Descending On France 1780
Chapter 266 - 259 Clay Bell learns about war in war

Chapter 266: 259 Clay Bell learns about war in war

After repelling the enemy’s attack, Clay Bell’s troops were hugging and celebrating.

Clay Bell, like the soldiers, was busy celebrating the victory, as the wars he had participated in before were only defensive operations at the Marne River, and what he had heard about were mostly the battles conducted by Frost.

Those battles had a characteristic; they generally had a decisive result and most campaigns ended quickly, with only a few minor episodes and sporadic pursuit battles left.

So at this moment, although Clay Bell had heard from others that battles often involve repeated tug-of-wars, he did not take it to heart.

He thought that defeating the enemy meant winning.

While he was celebrating the victory, a rider on a fast horse came shouting, "Quickly form up, keep your positions, the enemy’s second wave is coming!"

Clay Bell was taken aback, "What second wave? We have repelled the enemy’s three attacks already."

The Messenger Soldier shook his head, "No, no, Mr. Dumas sent me to tell you all, that just now was all one wave. The enemy’s second wave is gathering and will be here soon, look if you don’t believe!"

Clay Bell turned his head to look towards the coalition, indeed seeing the coalition not looking like they were in retreat, but lining up in formation.

Clay Bell was stunned: "How come they haven’t retreated? No, we had just defeated the enemy!"

The Messenger Soldier just shrugged, showing a disdain to explain to someone foreign to military strategy.

Clay Bell had no choice but to order those celebrating to return to their posts while pondering why this was happening.

Finally, when he saw the corpses the enemy had left in front of their formation, he understood.

Clay Bell clapped his hands forcefully: "Damn, because the moment we engaged, before we could engage in hand-to-hand combat, the enemy broke, so in fact very few of the enemy died. Including those we shot down earlier, only a few hundred, which is negligible compared to their entire army. So the enemy can quickly regroup the defeated troops!"

A nearby staff officer asked, "Then how can we prevent the enemy from regrouping quickly?"

Clay Bell rolled his eyes, "How the hell would I know? Frost should know, since his battles seldom had this back-and-forth, at least that’s not mentioned by those veterans when they boast to us."

Clay Bell shook his head, "Okay, quickly get back into formation, adjust the formation that dispersed due to the counter-charge!"

"Working on it!" A sergeant responded with a grim face, "Damn, I was just a chalkmaker deceived by passion, I am not good at this at all."

Clay Bell: "Put some effort in, it’s everyone’s first time."

Clay Bell struggled mightily to get his troops in order, and the enemy’s attack was also well-organized.

Seeing the enemy charge to the exact same tune as before, Clay Bell felt as if time was reversing.

If it weren’t for the corpses left by the enemy in front of the formation reminding him that the enemy had indeed just attacked once, he might think he was drunk and dreaming.

Clay Bell’s pep talk this time was much less spirited than the first time: "Anyway, the enemy is coming again, just like we crushed them before, let’s crush them again!

"Um, I... am done, just crush them, crush them!"

**

By 4 o’clock in the afternoon, Clay Bell finally realized that holding Babi Village wasn’t as easy as he had imagined that morning.

Although the French Army repelled the enemy’s attacks time after time with high morale, the enemy could quickly regroup for the next wave of attack.

Due to the coalition’s low morale, they quickly fell back each time, leading to insufficient casualties inflicted in hand-to-hand combat by the French Army, turning the low morale of the coalition into their advantage.

Clay Bell could not understand why they could so nonchalantly attack again after several routs.

Compared to that, the French Army, solely driven by patriotic enthusiasm, was worn down in these ongoing battles and started to show signs of fatigue.

After a whole day of fierce battle, Clay Bell deduced a critical principle: the French Army is suited for offensive battles, where high morale can swiftly crush the enemy.

In offensive battles, after crushing the enemy, they could sweep through the enemy’s camps and supply lines, preventing the enemy from organizing the next wave of attacks.

Thinking it over, Clay Bell realized, Frost’s victories, except for the initial defensive battle, were all offensive battles.

It turns out that the National Guard formed after the revolution is the most suitable for offensive operations—even though its name is "Self-Defense Army."

Clay Bell did not realize that his conclusion came from his limited perspective, only seeing how the French Army’s morale and vigor were being worn down by the enemy’s war of attrition.

He did not realize that an army, resembling a rabble, maintaining a dispersed formation against an enemy with twice their numbers for so many waves of attack, was an incredibly daunting task.

Even for those well-trained and led by numerous professional officers in a regular army, it would be difficult to achieve this.

The truth is that after the Great Revolution, the French Army was truly the first-rate force in Europe. Now, it still remains in its fledgeling form, its soldiers lacking in training, without enough experienced officers, and even less of qualified generals.

In a few more years, as the Revolutionary Wars continue, this army will grow into the leading force in Europe, tearing through enemy encirclements.

By six o’clock in the afternoon, Clay Bell finally heard the bugle sounds from the Austrian side.

He vaguely realized that this was probably the signal for the Austrian troops to start pulling back.

Clay Bell sighed deeply: "It’s finally over."

He found a beech tree and sat down with a thud, leaning against the trunk and looking up at the sky.

Seeing him like this, the French soldiers who had been tensed up all day also relaxed.

Many simply lay on the ground, stretching their arms.

"It’s over."

"Who has water? I’ve run out of water!"

"Has anyone seen my friend? He’s a painter, his name is Bu Wei, Auguste Bu Wei—has anyone seen him?"

Amidst the noisy chatter, a Messenger Soldier sprinted over, bellowing orders: "Each battalion, arrange for the troops in reserve to replace the frontline troops to guard the front, they will be stationed there tonight! Battalion leaders, arrange tonight’s patrol!"

Clay Bell: "This Black Devil, really considers himself the commander of this small unit, it won’t be long before we have to call him General Zhong Ma!"

Although he grumbled thus, Clay Bell didn’t really object to Black Devil being the commander; after all, he only knew how to construct artillery emplacements and wasn’t adept in the matters of marching and fighting.

Following the orders, he arranged the troop rotations and night patrols, when suddenly Moro rode up on a horse: "Hey, you survived today’s carousel battles too!"

Clay Bell: "Don’t mention it, this morning I thought the Austrian army was weak and we could win cleanly, but they turned out to be sticky like a toffee!"

Moro: "That’s why General Frost aims to annihilate the enemy, otherwise they will keep coming back like this. Every time we crush them, wounding hundreds, it wouldn’t be long before they surged up again."

Clay Bell: "If you ask me, we should send captured soldiers to serve labor duties, letting them work for us building fortresses, bridges, and dikes!"

Moro: "Make them dig canals!"

"Good idea." Clay Bell thumbs up, his mood lightened by the banter with Moro.

Moro: "Looking on the bright side, we held our ground today, farmers, fruit sellers, bakers, all blocked the well-trained armies of the Holy Roman Empire! Holy Roman is also Rome, rounding up, we’ve fended off a Roman legion!"

Clay Bell: "That rounding of yours is a bit too much, do all you lawyers count like this?"

Moro shrugged his shoulders.

Clearly, Moro was in very good spirits.

Probably because today’s battle showed him the superiority of the Republic.

At that moment, elderly Zhong Ma rode up to the two: "Gentlemen, how do you feel?"

"Feeling okay, but honestly, we should change our approach. The enemy attacks and we defend, unable to inflict enough casualties—even if we repel them with courage, it’s futile. I suggest we take the offensive tomorrow." Clay Bell spoke.

Old Zhong Ma: "Are you out of your mind? No, no, we can’t attack, not until these men can march in proper formation."

Clay Bell: "Why not? We just use skirmish formations, loosely charging forward, order them to fire upon nearing the enemy, followed by a bayonet charge, and the battle will be over."

Moro: "Skirmish formations can also avoid cannon fire, I think it’s feasible. Today’s enemy artillery fire didn’t cause me much damage, even if the cannonball rolled through our ranks, it only took one or two unfortunate souls; sometimes it rolled by without causing any injuries.

"By contrast, the attacking Austrian army was devastated by our cannons."

In this era, without triggering fuses and fragmentation bombs, the lethality of solid cannonballs plummeted against skirmish formations.

Black Devil sighed, throwing out the last reason against attacking: "How would the skirmish formation defend against cavalry? When the cavalry charges, this formation becomes a moving glory. Can you promptly transform your troops into staggered formations?"

Lawyer and architect exchanged glances.

Clay Bell: "You’re right, Sir Black Devil."

Old Zhong Ma: "I’m not a sir."

He sighed, changing his tone: "Forget it, let’s enjoy our dinner, after fighting hard all day, it’s time to reward our soldiers—and ourselves."

Clay Bell: "There’s a military depot here, I’m sure Sir Bertier wouldn’t mind us sharing some of the depot’s supplies."