Descending On France 1780
Chapter 165 - 158 Vukcevic’s Surprise Attack

Chapter 165: 158 Vukcevic’s Surprise Attack

Austria’s Marshal Boliue did not underestimate the new Italian legion led by General Frost.

Before declaring war, he had already sent out his spies early on, and after the declaration, he employed many Italians to gather intelligence for him.

Now, the old Marshal had basically mastered the number of enemies and the composition of their commanders.

Now, the Marshal was convening his staff in a meeting.

The Chief of Staff Condore dismissively said about Frost’s forces, "They are just a mob. Those officers under Frost are all greenhorns, and he even let a Captain command a division! A Captain!

"Here, even our battalion commanders are Majors or Lieutenant Colonels!"

The other officers at the headquarters, including General Bo Tengdaofu, commander of the General Reserve, all nodded repeatedly.

Marshal shook his head: "Yet he led such troops and defeated Lafayette. I’ve met that Lafayette, an excellent officer who understands what war is! He even defeated Cornwallis in the New Continent!"

The officers looked at each other.

At that moment, Major General Vukcevic, who had hurried back for the meeting, said jokingly, "Perhaps General Lafayette, like you all, underestimated the enemy because they were all lower-ranking officers, and thus he lost."

Condore: "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said," Vukcevic replied mockingly.

Noble officers come in types, some simply rise through the ranks by their families, a common phenomenon in both Austria and France, and such people generally don’t get along with those real working officers.

This could be said to be the norm for European armies.

Vukcevic disliked Condore and those showing off.

Just as the officers were about to quarrel, Marshal Boliue spoke up: "Alright! Everyone must collaborate. Vukcevic is right; Lafayette was probably defeated because he underestimated Frost.

"We must take him seriously, consider him and his men as perfectly trained, qualified officers and soldiers! Only thus can we ensure absolute security!"

Vukcevic nodded, "Of course, I have never underestimated him. After today’s encounter, I believe my direct enemy is still the original Italian legion, that of General Lombard."

"How did you figure that out?" asked Condore.

"Of course by the number of staff officers; noble officers are like peacocks on the battlefield, very recognizable."

Condore looked down at his own outfit: he was dressed in an Austrian white general’s uniform, his shoulders adorned with a pair of shiny gold epaulettes, the tassels long enough to brush horses.

These tassels were from the most famous tailor in Vienna, made with solid materials and fine stitches.

Beneath the tassels were flashy medals and sashes.

Vukcevic: "Right, just like that!"

Condore immediately started grooming his meticulously trimmed beard.

Vukcevic: "And the beard! Only nobles with two orderlies can maintain such a handsome beard on the battlefield!"

Marshal Boliue spoke, "Alright! I know your immediate enemy is the original enemy."

Just then, a captain entered the command post and saluted, "Report! The scouting cavalry has returned, they caught a French officer who came to surrender!"

All the officers in the command post immediately stood up, and the old marshal, a bit slower, also stood up, "What? Quick, bring him in!"

Moments later, several French officers were brought in.

Vukcevic spoke first, "Where are your tricolor insignias?"

The leading officer spat, "To hell with the tricolor, long live the King!"

The remaining French officers also started chanting together.

The Austrian officers all showed delight on their faces.

However, Marshal Boliue still maintained a stern face, as the old man took a step forward, "Stop shouting! Start from the beginning, what happened? Someone, get him a glass of water!"

Water was immediately handed over.

The French officer who first shouted ’long live the King’ took the water, drank it in one gulp, then let out a sigh, "That damned Frost! As soon as his army arrived, he immediately labeled all officers as potential traitors and directly ordered his Guards, what he calls the ’Instruction Troops’, to start capturing officers! Anyone of noble birth was arrested!

"Can you imagine? Just being of noble birth, and they were all arrested!"

Condore, overjoyed, exclaimed, "What? Does that mean, the original Italian Legion now only has sergeants, with no one higher than a sergeant left?"

In France, it is mandated that only nobles of three generations can become field officers—this is because France is the most feudal country in Europe. Since the days of Louis XIV, there had accumulated a pile of nobles, and without such regulations, there would be too many officers.

Commoners in the French army could at most climb to the rank of sergeant; it was extremely rare for them to become lieutenants, usually only if they had performed great deeds or had familial connections, like marrying a daughter from an impoverished noble family.

Without such external factors, a commoner could only ascend as high as sergeant through regular promotions.

Condore, as an Austrian noble, of course, was very familiar with the French system, as France was the model of feudalism studied by all countries during the Feudal Era, and nobles from various countries generally spoke French.

French, in this era of Europe, was somewhat akin to the status English held globally after the establishment of Anglo-Saxon hegemony.

Condore was very excited, "Does that mean, the enemy that Vukcevic is facing is also plunged into chaos?"

The fugitive French officer nodded, "I came from there, abandoning my unit. Luckily, our garrison was far from Savona, otherwise, I could never have escaped!

"That Frost, he sent a devil with a smoking pipe, chasing after the nobles who had fled Savona. The detained nobles might still be breathing, but those who ran were mostly hacked to death!"

Condore turned to Marshal Boliue, "We should attack immediately! If we set off now, after marching through the night, we can launch the attack at dawn!"

At this moment, Condore’s suggestion of a night march reflects his great confidence in the training and organization of his troops.

However, Marshal Boliue, experienced as he was, knew that marching at night would lead to a significant number of stragglers. In this era, losing one-tenth during a night march was considered well-organized, and night battles would certainly be chaotic, the victor being whichever side was braver and luckier.

The typical raid tactic of the age was to march rapidly during the night and then strike at dawn when the enemy’s night guards were most fatigued.

Such assaults were risky; if unsuccessful, the troops that ran all night would be pursued by the energetically refreshed enemy.

Marshal Boliue stroked his beard, pondered deeply, and then spoke, "We must seize the opportunity. Vukcevic, lead your division, depart tonight, and strike Valaz at dawn!"