The battle to attack the Oliul Pass went smoothly. In less than a morning, the Naples fleas (soldiers) were basically driven back to the Malbosque Fort, and the enemy only had one stronghold in the entire mountainous area.

After lunch in the barracks, I took the orderly soldiers and rode toward Oliuer, on the pretext of inspecting the front line, but in fact I wanted to greet my idol, a cavalry guard team of more than 50 people formed by farmers in the Marseille plantation to provide security for the special commissioners.

Although I have practiced equestrian hard for many days, my skills are still not good. The rugged mountain roads and bumpy horseback make me embarrassed and slowly land at the end of the entire team. The special commissioner guards are all full of energy and passion, and even my orderly soldiers look more sophisticated than me. So the Marseilles naturally show some disdain in their eyes when they look at me.

Although I was a little angry, I did not reveal it. After all, the soldiers only appreciated their capable bosses and were not afraid of the authority of the commissioners like officers. Thinking of this, I felt relieved and forgot about the unhappiness just now. I began to fantasize about the scene of meeting Napoleon later.

…

"Report to the Special Commissioner Representative, Captain Napoleon Bonaparte was ordered to report."

"Very good, Captain, I welcome you as the representative of the plenipotentiary commissioner of the Public Security Commission's Front Army in Toulon. The Republic looks forward to your contributions in Toulon."

…

Haha, old man, can you believe it? Your idol brother, the first emperor of France, actually paid tribute to your son. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but start to be stupid again, with a strange expression on my face.

"Telecomman, specialcommand, are you uncomfortable?" My little entourage pulled my clothes and called me gently.

"Oh, nothing, I'm just thinking about something interesting. By the way, where are we going now." I came to my senses. Fortunately, my ugly appearance was not seen by the Marseille farmers, otherwise the soldiers should have circulated all kinds of rumors about the commissioner.

"The flea hill ahead, the commissioner representative," the answer was my chief guard, Captain Shade, who slapped his horse to me, pointed to a hill and said, "Oh, it's the defense of the Naples. Listen, it's the sound of artillery, and it must be Major Martin and his artillery bombarding the enemy's positions."

Following the sound of cannons, we soon found Major Martian and his cavalry artillery company 200 meters below the flea hill, and there was also an infantry company, fully armed and ready for attack.

"Hello, commissioner representative," Major Martian Artillery and Lieutenant Hodell infantry ran to my horse to salute.

"Please be casual, officers, I'm just here to inspect. You are the combat commanders," I lazily said, and after a brief reply, I climbed down from the horse's back with difficulty, shaking my body, trying to recombine the bones that were about to fall apart.

"As for orders, the commissioner representative," said the two officers.

"How is the battle?" I asked, and when the discomfort felt a lot, I began to care about the war again.

"It's very smooth, the commissioner representative," said the major, "All the main roads of Oliul have been occupied by our army. Currently, there are only more than 50 Naples defenders on the flea hills that are fighting stubbornly, but judging from their resistance, they will not support them for a long time. Therefore, we just use cavalry guns to scatter the guns. If they do not surrender within 5 minutes, Lieutenant Hodel's troops will launch a charge. But I believe that my artillery will make the fleas surrender."

The major's arrogance made me feel a little uncomfortable. Just as I was about to ask a few questions, I heard the soldiers shouting "Ula". It turned out that the enemy on the top of the mountain hung a white flag on the flagpole.

"Lt. Hodell, now your people can accept surrender." Major Martian gave the order to the captain, then turned to me and said, "Representative of the Commissioner, are you willing to catch fleas with us?"

"I'm sorry, Major, I can't take away your merits, but I will mention your record in the report." I refused the invitation. I was not here to accept the captives. Waiting for my idol here is my real purpose. In addition, I was a little worried because it was this Major Martin who was injured that Napoleon took over the command of the army's artillery and began the Battle of Toulon. Historical books record that Major Martin was seriously injured in the battle of Oliul. Now the entire battle is basically over. The enemy's defense has returned to the fortress near the coastline. Could it be that this place is a fraudulent surrender? I feel a little nervous. Although I don't like this arrogant major, I will not let him die in vain.

So I stopped the major who was about to leave and said, "Major, can you confirm that the enemy is not a fraudulent surrender."

"Fake surrender?! Haha," the major began to laugh unscrupulously: "Starting this morning, I have accepted such surrender 5 times." After that, he turned around and left, ignoring me, and even saving the minimum military salute.]

Damn it, do you want me to tell you historical stories? Yes, even if you surrender, an elite infantry in a company will sweep the defenders. No, there must be some ghosts here, I firmly believe it.

Is it the enemy's reinforcements? Impossible! There are steep cliffs on three sides of the enemy's position, and the only intersection leading to the hill is already at our feet. Looking around, there is no movement in the direction of Toulon, except for the sea of ​​the small anchorage, which is moving several British-flagged ships.

Is it because I support the fleet from the sea? My face turned pale and I hurried to come to Captain Shade's monocular lens and look at the sea. Sure enough, those ships were five huge British main battleships, with three decks, equipped with 100 or more artillery first-class main battleships, and 5 just formed a standard battle sequence, which could cover any area uninterrupted artillery fire within its range. Damn, there were less than 20 such giants in the UK, and they actually sent at least five in Toulon.

After looking carefully, I found that the fleet had already hung a battle flag and the side of the ship was aimed at the flea hill. When I turned my vision to the hill again, I really noticed that at the bottom of the white flag, there was a string of colorful flags composed of various colors, which were very eye-catching. I understood that it was a signal flag for the fleet, and it was a complete trap. What a fucking bastard, why didn’t I look carefully just now?

"What's the matter, the commissioner representative," Captain Shade asked in confusion when he saw me feeling anxious.

I pointed to the sea and the hills and handed him the monocular mirror.

"Damn it, this is a shameless murder. I will inform the major immediately." The captain saw the enemy's conspiracy and wanted to run to the hill.

"It's useless, it's because the enemy on the hill has guided the attack of the British fleet." I was a little discouraged because the huge sound of naval guns had already come.

Soon, on the road leading to the hill, balls of black smoke continued to arise one after another, and countless 24-pound cannon shells hit the heads of infantry without any defense. The sound of explosions, life-saving sounds and scolding sounds intertwined. The air waves generated by the explosion threw up living or dead creatures high and put them down heavily. The entire hillside was filled with flesh and blood flying across the scene.

I looked at these and felt the cruelty of the war. The people who were still talking to me a few minutes ago disappeared in front of me and disappeared forever. I tried hard to curb my urge to vomit, and my red eyes stared fiercely at the mountain 200 meters away.

"Commissioner, look," the orderly man pointed to a team that appeared behind and said to me: "That seems to be our baggage convoy."

"It's the Italian Front's supply team that has arrived. They are going to cross the mountain pass," I confirmed it and shouted at my guard captain: "Captain, what is the maximum range of the British first-class battleship."

"It's more than 3,000 magic feet," the captain replied, but he immediately understood what I wanted to know, "Damn it, the supply team is now only more than 2,500 magic feet away from the warships. Under the threat of naval guns, the commissioner representatives, what should I do?"

What to do? In a moment, I made the most decisive decision I had ever made: order the soldiers of the cavalry and artillery company to aim all the gun heads at the top of the mountain and implement unlimited firepower coverage; then let my orders ride horses to warn the baggage convoy, so that they can leave the evacuation dangerous area as soon as possible; finally I ordered all the guards to get on the horse, unsheathed the saber, and prepare to charge towards the top of the mountain.

"Brave soldiers, I'm sorry I'll give this suicide order," I said very heavy, and continued: "But the enemy's artillery fire does not allow us to hesitate at all. In order to win time for the supply team, for the final victory, for the tricolor flag to fly forever, let us sing the Marseille song and rush to the enemy's position." With the respectful and tragic eyes of the 56 Marseille people, the commissioner rushed out first.

"Forward, advance, the son of the motherland, that glorious moment has come.

Autocratic tyranny is oppressing us, and our motherland is full of blood. Do you know that the fierce enemy soldiers are killing the people everywhere!

They kill your wife and children from your arms.

Citizens, get armed!

Citizens, go into the battle!

Move forward, move forward, unite and eliminate the enemy!"

This is a war song written by an ordinary soldier. It was designated as the French national anthem in 1795. On July 14, 1789, the people of Paris in France conquered the Bastille, and the vigorous bourgeois revolution began. In 1792, the feudal monarch of the Pu'O feudal monarch organized a coalition army to conduct armed interference. At this critical moment, the mayor of Strasbourg, who was fighting on the front, called on people to write war songs to resist violence. The poet and composer, the engineer lieutenant Ruge de Lear of the Rhine Camp, immediately wrote a song, originally named "The Battle Song of the Rhine Legion". After singing, it quickly spread among the Republican army. The country-saving volunteers in Marseille sang this war song into Paris and renamed "The Song of the Marseille". As a symbol of the French Revolution, this song had a huge impact on the subsequent revolutions of European countries.

On the slope leading to the hill, the knights singing war songs waved their swords hard and rushed towards the enemy bravely. I ignored the hard branches on both sides and cut my face, and dense bullets passed through my arms and thighs, and terrifying giant shells kept exploding beside me. I grabbed the reins firmly and bent down as much as possible, hoping that I could live more time. Watching my comrades around me fall down from the horse one by one, lying in front of me in a bloody state, I was already in tears. The bloody scene did not make me afraid or surrender, because my heart was blank, and only one thought strongly dominated my behavior: that is, to exchange my life for the safety of my comrades in the rear.

200 meters is like the actual distance between me and hell; 40 seconds is the time when I race with the god of death. Finally, the moment the Naples were about to hang the signal flag again, I rushed to the top of the mountain. I waved the saber and cut the flagpole with all my last strength. The others followed, and a piece of silver light flashed, and the enemy's heads flew up one after another, and a ball of dirty blood rolled under the horse's hooves.
Chapter completed!