The stars and moon were high in the sky, the evening breeze was slightly chilly, and it was already late at night.
On a newly built wooden lookout on the outskirts of the town of Figari, several serf conscripts waiting here couldn't help but shiver in the gusts of wind at high altitudes, and put on their slightly thin cloth military uniforms.
It was wrapped a little tighter.
"I said, there's no need for us to stay here all night, right?"
Late summer is already a season of scorching sun and cold nights. Apparently, a soldier couldn't bear the cold wind on the high platform and complained to his companions around him:
"I heard that the governor's army is still besieging the outermost fortress. It takes ten and a half months to reach us."
"Hey, that's right." The other person rubbed his hands, squatted on the ground and curled up, looking very depressed:
"I hope the governor can call in quickly, so that we don't have to be so worried all day long, and... I heard that the farmers under the governor's rule live a life like paradise. I don't know if it's true or not.
..."
"Who knows..." Although the soldiers said this, they all dreamed that they could live in the rumored land.
While several people were chatting away the long night, one of the soldiers glanced at the road shrouded in darkness, seemed to notice something was wrong, and suddenly reminded in a startled voice:
"Wait a minute, I think I heard the sound of horse hooves, you all listen!"
Several people immediately stopped chatting, closed their eyes and listened.
Sure enough, in addition to the howling of the evening wind, a series of clearly audible sounds of horse hooves could be heard, and there was also the faint sound of the footsteps of a large group of infantry advancing together.
Everyone hurriedly grabbed the edge of the railing and leaned out, looking for the riders in the dark night.
However, by the time they could clearly identify the rider, it was already too late.
More than twenty light cavalry were seen galloping from the northwest road. Before even giving the soldiers on the lookout some time to react, these light cavalry spread out to form a semicircle and surrounded the entire lookout tower.
The soldiers who were resting under the tower just woke up from their sleep and saw the steel knife across their necks, so they chose to surrender without any hesitation.
The soldiers on the watchtower were also instantly confused. They looked at the cavalry who suddenly rushed in front of them in disbelief, and murmured to themselves:
"Impossible! Where did these people come from?!"
"Is it the governor's army...But shouldn't they still besieging the ancient fortress?"
"Damn it...but it's okay, I'm finally free."
Seeing that the high tower they were in was surrounded by enemy troops, the soldiers on these towers felt a sense of relief. This absurd and painful farce was finally going to be staged today.
One of them picked up the musket in the corner and tried to resist, but his companion held his hands down:
"Are you crazy! Bonaparte's army has appeared here, and the war is about to end!"
After saying that, he picked up a bayonet and cut out a piece of white cloth like a dagger, hung it on a musket and shook it desperately at the cavalry below to express their willingness to surrender.
...
At the same time, Lawrence, who was riding a white horse and marching with the soldiers at small steps, was receiving an urgent report from a cavalry captain:
"Reporting to the Governor, the six outer watchtowers have been controlled by our side, but... the soldiers at the last watchtower seemed to have discovered us in advance. They sent people on horseback to report the news to the town."
Looking at the guilt-ridden cavalry captain, Lawrence waved his hand magnanimously without any intention of blaming him:
"It doesn't matter, we can reach the center of Figari in just over an hour, and the other party doesn't have much time to react."
Major Serurier took out his gold pocket watch and looked at the time under the silvery moonlight, and said with great approval:
"Your Excellency Bonaparte, it will be dawn in more than an hour, which is also a good time for a frontal battle."
In the era of line infantry, fighting at night has never been a regular option. Except for night attacks and other surprises, most commanders would avoid commanding troops to fight at night, because line infantry itself is based on discipline and order.
Fighting at night can easily cause the entire army to fall into chaos and become a mess.
This is undoubtedly what the National Defense Forces, which have a higher degree of training, do not want to see. After all, when both sides enter a state of chaos, the superior combat qualities of the National Defense Forces soldiers cannot be brought into play.
Judging from the current marching speed, Lawrence can just start the decisive battle with the landlord group at dawn and sunrise.
"Not bad." Lawrence thought for a moment, and then ordered to the left and right:
"Order the entire army to slow down its marching speed and begin to advance towards the town of Figari in combat formation. Let the commanders of each battalion pay attention to the enemy at any time."
"yes!"
Looking at the backs of several messengers running away, Lawrence couldn't help but hold the reins tightly in his hands, looked up at the town of Figari in the distance, which was still hidden in the night, and said slowly:
"Those decadent fools are probably still immersed in a dream of life and death, but it doesn't matter. It's time for them to get off the political stage in Corsica. In the end, political dramas are still the best one-man shows."
...
At the same time, the Wehrmacht troops were advancing towards the town of Figari under the cover of night.
Town center, Master Justin’s stone building
"Come here, the wine is here, please pour more wine!"
The entire banquet hall echoed with Master Justin's shouts of joy. He was half lying on the seat, with a pair of polished buffalo leather boots raised high, and his originally sallow complexion turned pale under the influence of alcohol.
reddish pink.
Even though he and the other gentlemen had already drank an unknown amount of wine, Mr. Justin kept shouting and ordered the servants to continue carrying the wine barrels up from the cellar.
After learning that Bonaparte's army had begun to besiege the ancient fortress, Mr. Justin was finally relieved after being in suspense for a few days. This meant that he did not have to worry about the Wehrmacht's sharp blade stabbing Fegari for more than a month.
Already.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! It is precisely because of this that Mr. Justin, who had restrained himself for many days, began to enjoy his revenge and held a rare all-night banquet.
The gentlemen drank wine while devouring their food. If anyone felt that his stomach could not hold it any longer, he would vomit outside with the help of a servant. After emptying his stomach, he would return to his seat and continue to enjoy the delicacies. This was quite similar to the ancient Romans.
style.
Sir Robert didn't have much interest in this boring banquet. He didn't drink much wine. He just leaned on the back of the chair and dozed off, but he would soon be awakened by a drunken and loud landlord.
While all the gentlemen were enjoying this customary feast, the old housekeeper barged in in a panic.
He crawled into the banquet hall and tripped several times over the empty wine bottles and whipped cream scattered on the floor, just like a circus clown.
The drunk Mr. Justin couldn't help laughing when he saw his funny appearance. The other gentlemen also laughed in agreement, and for a while the entire banquet hall was filled with joy.
Until the butler walked up to Master Justin with a smile that was uglier than crying, the drunken master was still laughing:
"Oh hahaha, brother, what are you doing, performing? I must say that the performance was very successful, hahaha..."
The butler was not in the slightest joking mood. Seeing that his master would not be able to stop laughing for a while, he had no choice but to hold onto Master Justin's shoulders and his words were full of bitterness:
"Sir... our guard tower has been seized... it seems like Bonaparte's army is coming!"
This short sentence was like a silencing curse, causing the huge banquet hall to instantly fall into silence.
Master Justin's smile froze, and Sir Robert suddenly woke up from his nap and looked at the butler suspiciously.
Seeing everyone looking at him, the housekeeper added without tears:
"A soldier has just returned from the outpost on horseback. He said that he saw Bonaparte's army. It is estimated... that it will reach us at dawn."
Master Justin stood up in fear. His face was like a big stain, mixed with pale and wine red, as well as natural waxy yellow.
"Mr. Justin!"
Sir Robert also stood up immediately. Behind him were several serious-looking foreign instructors serving as escorts. He sternly scolded: "We don't have much time left. You should know that you can't afford the price of failure, right?"
"Yes, yes...Sir Robert." Mr. Justin leaned back on his seat with some dizziness and answered Sir Robert subconsciously.
His alcohol-addled mind was unable to think at this moment about how Bonaparte could have destroyed the defense of the ancient fortress in just a few hours and marched almost all of his army into the outskirts of Figari.
At this moment, he only knew that, as Sir Robert said, he absolutely could not afford the price of failure.
Sir Robert and the superiors behind him funded him a large amount of supplies, but they were all waiting to be repaid slowly after he took over Ajaccio.
If he was defeated at Figari, let alone Laurence Bonaparte who wanted his life, Sir Robert would probably be the first to question him.
His brain was buzzing, and Master Justin gritted his teeth, with a look of pain on his face, and shouted loudly:
"Come here! Go to the military camp immediately and ask all the soldiers to get up and prepare for battle. Tell them that as long as this battle is won, everyone... everyone will be rewarded with fifty gold coins!"
In the chaos, Master Justin no longer cares whether he can fulfill the reward he promised. For him, as long as he loses this battle, there will be nothing.
The old butler ran out of the banquet hall again. He still looked very funny, but no master could laugh anymore.
Whether they will be able to enter Ajaccio and be promoted to the next level, or whether they will be sent to the gallows by Bonaparte himself, will soon be known.
...
More than 20 minutes later, more than 8,000 serf conscripts, who had suffered enough training and torture during the day, were roughly pulled out of their sleep.
The barracks were in chaos, and many soldiers were still rubbing their sleepy eyes and not fully awake.
When they learned that they were about to fight the main force of the National Defense Force, they felt as if they were in a dream.
"What's going on? Isn't this really some kind of drill?"
"Don't they all say that the National Defense Forces are still besieging the ancient fortress more than forty miles away? How did they come here?!"
"Are we really going to the battlefield, or are we going to fight Governor Bonaparte..."
"You also said that if we win the battle, each of us will be given fifty gold coins? Will anyone believe such nonsense?"
...
Complaints abounded in the huge military camp. The soldiers reluctantly put on their clothes, received their muskets and ammunition, and followed their commanders and foreign instructors to the plains on the outskirts to gather.
Master Justin and Sir Robert also hurriedly rode two fast horses to the plain. As the two top leaders of this army, they of course had to come to the battlefield in person.
And when the serf conscripts saw the men appearing on the battlefield disheveled and smelling of alcohol, even the dullest soldiers knew that they must have just left a luxurious banquet.
The smell of food residues on the old man's body immediately made the surrounding soldiers frown. You must know that during these days of intense training, no soldier dared to say that he had eaten enough for the whole day.
Master Justin looked at his own army in front of him, at their uniform uniforms, muskets, and fairly neat formations, and he felt a little at ease in his heart.
The evening breeze also made his drunken head sober up. He looked at the soldiers, looked at Sir Robert with a slight uneasiness, and said incoherently:
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! "These soldiers should be able to stop Laurence Bonaparte, right? I mean, they were trained by your people. Of course, it's not that I don't believe in your people, they all
Great, very experienced...Sorry I got off track, I meant...are you confident?"
Sir Robert couldn't help but rolled his eyes, took off one of the black leather gloves on his hand, twirled his fingers and said in a deep voice:
"If I'm not wrong, Laurence Bonaparte must have divided his troops to guard the ancient fortress and let another army attack the town of Figari, as we had expected. After all, Bonaparte can't do it overnight.
No, we didn’t even capture that ancient fortress in one night, right?”
"Yes, yes, that's definitely the case." Although he didn't think about it at all, Mr. Justin couldn't help but nodded in agreement.
"In this case..." Sir Robert touched his chin and analyzed:
"The troops used by Bonaparte to attack are definitely not large in number, probably only three thousand or even less. In this way, we still have a great advantage in defeating the enemy with the eight thousand troops in front of us."
Although the drunken Master Justin did not understand Sir Robert's analysis at all, after hearing the conclusion that the advantage is mine, he couldn't help but get excited, and with the help of alcohol, he began to fantasize about capturing Governor Bonaparte alive.
"Haha, you little Bonaparte brat!"
Master Justin narrowed his eyes, raised his palm and waved it twice in the air. This was the scene in his fantasy of slapping the captured Bonaparte.
Sir Robert on the side rolled his eyes again. He also looked at the army in front of him nervously, and his palms couldn't help but start to sweat.
Of course, what the two people present did not know was that what they were about to face was not a small group of troops that had been divided into troops, but a main force of 6,000 soldiers composed of the Corsican Defense Force and the French garrison.