The train moved slowly north.
Dry autumn leaves rolled along the railway tracks as the wind pushed them across the ground. Outside the window stretched the hills of Serbia. Small villages appeared from time to time, their red roofs standing among fields already harvested.
The war had ended only a few weeks earlier.
Yet its traces were visible everywhere.
Along the railway line abandoned trenches could still be seen. In several places broken artillery positions stood near the tracks. At one station Skoropadskyi noticed wagons loaded with damaged gun carriages and crates filled with empty shell casings.
The train stopped.
Serbian soldiers stood on the platform. Several artillerymen were unloading the frame of a field gun. Nearby horses stood quietly beside a battery wagon, eating from canvas feed bags.
Skoropadskyi remained seated by the window and watched the scene.
A few minutes later the door of the compartment opened.
A Russian officer entered.
—"May I?"
—"Please."
The officer removed his gloves and sat across from him. For a moment he studied Skoropadskyi carefully.
—"Colonel Skoropadskyi?"
—"Yes."
—"I saw you in Belgrade among the military observers."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"You were at the front?"
—"For several weeks."
The train began moving again.
The officer looked out the window.
—"I spent most of that time with the Bulgarian army near Adrianople. Their artillery impressed me."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"Yes. The Bulgarian batteries were well organized."
The officer continued:
—"They used heavy guns against the Ottoman fortifications. First they shelled the positions for hours, then the infantry advanced."
—"A classic method."
—"And it worked."
For a moment both men watched the landscape passing by.
Broken trenches appeared briefly between the hills.
The officer spoke again.
—"But the second war changed everything. Bulgaria struck too early."
Skoropadskyi answered calmly.
—"And immediately against four armies — Serbia, Greece, Romania, and the Ottoman Empire."
The officer shook his head.
—"Even a strong army cannot survive that."
He paused.
—"Still, Bulgarian infantry fought stubbornly."
—"Their officers are well trained."
—"Especially their artillery."
The train entered a short tunnel.
For a few seconds the compartment went dark.
When they emerged into daylight again, the officer continued.
—"Did you notice how quickly they moved their batteries?"
—"Yes. Light carriages, good horses, and careful reconnaissance."
—"The Serbian army also fought well."
—"Their infantry is disciplined."
—"And they used machine guns effectively."
Skoropadskyi looked at him.
—"Machine guns change the battlefield."
The officer smiled slightly.
—"It seems they decide half the battle now."
—"Sometimes more."
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then the officer said quietly:
—"Wars are becoming very expensive."
Skoropadskyi looked at the railway map hanging on the wall of the compartment.
—"They will become even more expensive."
—"Why?"
—"Because armies are growing."
He traced a railway line on the map with his finger.
—"The larger the army, the more artillery, ammunition, and food it requires."
The officer nodded slowly.
—"So the next war will depend on railways."
—"And on factories."
The train stopped at a large station.
On the neighboring track stood a long freight train loaded with wooden crates.
The officer looked out the window.
—"Ammunition?"
—"Most likely."
—"There is a great deal of it."
—"In the next war they will need far more."
The officer turned back toward him.
—"Do you think such a war is coming?"
Skoropadskyi answered calmly.
—"Europe is preparing for one."
The officer was silent for several seconds.
—"I hope you are mistaken."
The train continued north.
Two days later Skoropadskyi arrived in Saint Petersburg.
Cold autumn air hung above the city. Gray clouds covered the sky. Carriages moved slowly along the streets, and the noise of traffic echoed between the stone buildings.
Within an hour his carriage stopped before the building of the General Staff.
The structure was large and austere. Inside the corridors were quiet. A duty officer checked his papers and led him into a meeting room.
Several officers stood around a large table.
A detailed map of the Balkan Peninsula covered most of its surface.
One of the officers turned toward him.
It was Yuri Danilov.
—"Colonel Skoropadskyi."
—"General."
They shook hands.
—"We received your written reports from Belgrade, but I would like to hear your observations personally."
Several other officers were present in the room.
Among them stood General Alexei Brusilov.
He watched the map silently.
Danilov began the discussion.
—"Let us begin with the Serbian army. You observed their operations directly."
Skoropadskyi stepped closer to the map.
—"At the beginning of the war Serbia mobilized approximately two hundred thirty thousand soldiers."
He pointed to northern Macedonia.
—"The army was organized into three main formations — the First Army with roughly one hundred thirty thousand men, the Second Army with about seventy thousand, and the Third Army with roughly sixty thousand."
One of the officers asked:
—"How would you evaluate their condition?"
—"Strong infantry and experienced officers, but limited heavy artillery."
He pointed to the map.
—"The decisive engagement occurred near Kumanovo."
Danilov asked:
—"Numbers?"
—"About one hundred thirty thousand Serbian soldiers against roughly sixty to seventy thousand Ottoman troops."
Another officer said quietly:
—"Almost double."
Skoropadskyi shook his head.
—"The Serbian command initially believed they faced only advance forces."
He continued:
—"The battle lasted two days."
—"Serbian losses were around three thousand killed and wounded."
—"Ottoman losses were significantly higher, roughly ten thousand."
Brusilov spoke.
—"What decided the outcome?"
—"Infantry discipline."
Skoropadskyi answered calmly.
—"Serbian battalions advanced repeatedly under artillery fire."
He moved his hand across the map.
—"After Kumanovo the Ottoman army began to retreat and Serbia quickly occupied most of Macedonia."
Danilov remained silent for a moment.
—"And the Bulgarian army?"
—"The most organized army in the Balkans."
Skoropadskyi pointed toward Thrace.
—"Bulgaria mobilized nearly six hundred thousand soldiers, almost fifteen percent of its entire population."
One of the officers murmured:
—"That is an enormous burden."
—"Yes."
He continued.
—"Around three hundred thousand Bulgarian soldiers operated in Thrace against the Ottoman army."
He indicated Adrianople.
—"The fortress garrison numbered roughly sixty thousand men."
—"After the siege approximately thirty thousand Ottoman soldiers were taken prisoner, while the rest were killed, wounded, or escaped the encirclement."
Brusilov nodded.
—"So heavy artillery decided the battle."
—"Yes."
Danilov asked another question.
—"How many divisions did Serbia deploy at the beginning of the war?"
Skoropadskyi replied:
—"Ten first-line infantry divisions and several reserve formations."
He pointed again to the map.
—"Most of these forces were concentrated in the three armies. Each division contained roughly twenty thousand soldiers."
Another officer asked:
—"And their artillery?"
—"About six hundred field guns."
He paused briefly.
—"Serbian artillery was lighter than the Bulgarian batteries but operated effectively. Their main weakness was the lack of heavy guns."
Brusilov said quietly:
—"That is a common problem."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"Yes."
He then looked at the map of Europe.
—"But even these armies are already large. Serbia alone mobilized around two hundred thirty thousand men."
He moved his finger toward Germany.
—"For comparison, Germany in a general war could mobilize more than three million soldiers."
The room became silent.
One officer said slowly:
—"That is fifteen armies of Serbian size."
Skoropadskyi replied calmly.
—"Which means the next war will be entirely different."
Danilov closed the folder on the table.
—"Thank you, Colonel. Your observations will be included in the General Staff report."
He then took another document.
—"There is another matter."
He looked directly at Skoropadskyi.
—"For your service as military observer and the reports you prepared, you have been recommended for an award."
Skoropadskyi nodded slightly.
—"Thank you."
Danilov continued.
—"The official announcement will follow shortly."
He paused briefly.
—"We can provide you with only two months of leave. This is a small expression of gratitude for your service, and I ask you to understand our limitations. After you receive your new appointment, you will need to assume your duties immediately."
Brusilov smiled faintly.
—"You spent several years in the Balkans. A few months of rest will not harm you."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"Thank you, gentlemen."
The meeting ended.
A few minutes later he stepped outside the building of the General Staff.
Evening was falling over Saint Petersburg.
Carriages moved slowly across the square, and officers stood near the entrance speaking quietly.
Skoropadskyi stopped for a moment.
The Balkan Wars were over.
Yet the discussions he had just heard made one thing clear.
Europe was studying that war very carefully.
Because everyone understood that the next one might be far greater.