Descending On France 1780
Chapter 265: France requests that you fulfill your duties with utmost dedication.

Chapter 265: France requests that you fulfill your duties with utmost dedication.

Austrian Brigadier General Ferdinand observed the enemy’s formation through his telescope.

"What the devil? They’ve actually dispersed all their troops into skirmishers?"

Colonel Bacon, the Chief of Staff, shook his head, "Is it a stroke of genius or have they really rounded up that many criminals to rush them onto the battlefield?"

Ferdinand: "Even so, without privates in the rear to back them up, the skirmishers will quickly collapse. This is the inherent limitation of skirmishers."

He paused, then shook his head, "These French fools will make our victory utterly lackluster. Such a victory deserves no glory, no!"

Colonel Bacon flattered, "Once you defeat that leatherworker, you will naturally receive the honor you deserve."

Ferdinand burst into hearty laughter.

After laughing, he waved his hand: "Attack!"

**

Clay Bell hurried to his own position and then found that the enemy was leisurely forming up.

After all, it takes some time for more than twenty thousand people to deploy into a sufficiently broad offensive formation.

Clay Bell’s task was relatively simple since there was no need to line up; it was enough to scatter the soldiers like scattering petals.

He rode his horse back and forth among the dispersed skirmisher formations in the fields, loudly exclaiming: "The Republic needs us to fulfill our duties!

"Think of your families!

"France is large, but we have no room to retreat because Paris is behind us!"

Shouting this seemed quite out of place, as Paris was far from here, and this battle wasn’t about protecting Paris.

But who cares, as long as it boosts morale, anything goes!

If dancing would boost morale, Clay Bell would undoubtedly dance.

The enemy assault began.

Lines of white advanced towards the French Army’s scattered positions in the fields, and the enemy’s martial music even drifted over to the French side.

Each country has its own preferred martial music; for example, Russians like to use solemn drumbeats, sounding like the footsteps of General Winter.

And the music of the Austrians carried a taste of courtly elegance.

Clay Bell shouted, "Austrian music is truly awful to hear. Come on, let’s sing ’Hymn of Rome’!"

Clay Bell had heard many rumors on the battlefield; it was said that Frost’s troops’ morale and courage greatly increased when they sang ’Hymn of Rome.’

At this point, Clay Bell couldn’t care if it was true or false; he just had to use it.

The French soldiers began to sing, initially uneven, but soon everyone was singing together loudly.

The enemy drew closer, and the skirmishers fired the first volley.

Clay Bell: "Aim for the officers! Hit the officers!"

Because the formation was so dispersed, the smoke from firing didn’t completely block Clay Bell’s view; he could see quite a few Austrians going down in their lines.

He suddenly laughed: "Hahaha, I see! The enemy is on the down slope!"

Being on the down slope, the Austrians arranged in three columns broadened their silhouette from the French perspective, doubling the area that could be hit.

Clay Bell: "Quick, reload and fire! Deal as much damage as possible before the enemy finishes descending!"

The French Army fired bullets with a crackling sound, and Austrians in the ranks kept falling.

Suddenly, some Austrians at the front couldn’t take it and began to quietly break ranks and run backward.

Seeing this, Clay Bell was dumbstruck: "What the devil? The enemy is running already?"

The last time he had been in battle was at the Marne River, and he actually didn’t get to fight much, just guarding his position and shooting at the enemy, who didn’t even cross the river.

This time, Clay Bell was astonished: "The enemy collapsed so quickly? Is warfare... really this simple?"

It’s not Clay Bell’s fault for being surprised; after joining the army, all he heard were stories of Frost’s French Army experiences, where Frost’s troops had high morale, often engaged in hand-to-hand combat, and could suffer extremely high casualties without breaking.

So Frost still thought all armies were like this.

But the Austrians had barely suffered any casualties before their morale collapsed.

Clay Bell had already made up his mind that, once hand-to-hand combat began, he would charge like the General himself and rescue the crumbling morale. And now, wait, what?

**

Old Dumas wasn’t as relaxed as Clay Bell.

He knew that such a large number of skirmishers could indeed disintegrate the momentum of some linear infantry, but after breaking the first line, the enemy still had the second, the third.

The fact that the enemy was closing in hadn’t changed.

The real test would come after the enemy reached the charging distance.

Based on Old Dumas’s past experience, not to mention the loosely formed skirmishers, even well-trained linear infantry, arranged in dense formations, could also collapse at the mere charge of the enemy.

Old Dumas’s expression was solemn, he commanded the artillery to focus fire and blow up the enemy’s second line, and now the enemy’s third line had reached the charging distance.

Old Dumas took a deep breath.

The Austrians stopped.

After a round of drumbeats, they raised their guns.

The volley fire was not very effective, as the French were in a skirmish formation and took cover behind various shelters.

The Austrian volley fire did not cause much attrition.

But Old Dumas knew that the real test was yet to come.

The Austrian officers raised their sabers and gave the order to charge.

The enemy’s formation immediately turned into waves, rolling towards the French lines.

**

Clay Bell knew that now was the moment.

He drew his long knife, shouting, "For France!"

Seeing this, the surrounding French soldiers also let out a roar: "For France!"

The soldiers of the 68th Brigade, emerging from various shelters, charged head-on into the oncoming Austrians.

**

Ferdinand laughed loudly: "Hahaha! They are actually engaging us with a skirmish formation in a frontal assault! These fools will shatter completely on our bayonets like the waves crashing against the shore’s rocks!"

Colonel Bacon remarked, "Congratulations on your victory, sir."

"At times like this, one needs a bit of wine..." Ferdinand turned to look for his orderly, "Robert, hurry up, bring the wine."

"Right here, General."

Ferdinand: "That leatherworker, they say he likes to drink on the battlefield, huh, as a leatherworker, he certainly can’t appreciate the beauty of fine wine, it’s nothing more than a pretentious act."

Suddenly, Ferdinand noticed a change in his Chief of Staff’s expression.

"What’s wrong with you, you look as if you’ve seen God incarnate," he teased.

Colonel Bacon raised his hand, pointing in the direction of the battlefield: "General, look, General!"

Ferdinand turned his head doubtfully, only to see his own troops disintegrating from the frontlines.

Ferdinand rubbed his eyes hard, suspecting he had seen wrong.

**

Moro’s emotions were exceptionally high.

General Frost was right, the Republic’s armies are not like those of the old Nobles! They have inexhaustible courage, they can pulverize the armies of all the old Nobles!

Moro shouted: "Brothers! For France, for the Republic!"