Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1441 - 1347: Flames of Vengeance

Chapter 1441: Chapter 1347: Flames of Vengeance

“I’ve already sent someone to expedite it, sir.”

Before the staff officer could finish his sentence, a young soldier, looking around seventeen or eighteen years old, not very tall, with a face reddened and dried by the cold, came running over energetically.

After being stopped by the guards, the young man quickly took off his cap and stood at attention toward Yanni, shouting, “Colonel, sir, are you sending me to seize the artillery position on the south side? Rest assured, my men are…”

The staff officer signaled the guards to make way, then looked at the young soldier and said, “Waldemar Zamojski, Sergeant of the 14th Company, 6th Skirmisher Battalion?”

“That’s me, sir.”

Yanni also looked over and said in a deep voice, “Your surname is actually Vizcek, isn’t it? You have violated the conscription regulations, do you know that?”

Vizcek was taken aback, stepped back half a step, and said softly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Yanni put away his binoculars and walked over: “When you enlisted in Lublin, your brother had already been dead for more than a year. According to conscription regulations, as the only male in your family, you cannot become a soldier.”

Vizcek was visibly flustered and took two more steps back: “I… I didn’t intend to conceal it…”

He suddenly pointed toward the distant Russian defense line: “Colonel, I must witness the moment when the Russians are defeated! Please, after we capture Minsk, I’ll immediately report to the Gendarmerie!”

“You won’t be punished, but you must return to your home in Vizna now.” Yanni rubbed his forehead; yesterday, the General Staff had directly ordered him to send Vizcek back.

This sergeant’s father died defending Poznan. His eldest brother participated in the raid on Cremea, and his body is still on the ice field south of Kursk. His second brother was killed by a cannonball when taking Els Fortress.

His family is now under the special care of the Military Affairs Department, yet this guy changed his name and enlisted in Lublin.

“I… I can’t go back.” Vizcek’s voice was not loud, but it was very stubborn.

Yanni sighed and advised, “Your mother is alone at home. Are you willing to see her starve?”

Vizcek lowered his head and, after a while, said, “My mother said she just wants to hear the news that the Russians have been defeated… If I go back like this, she’ll beat me…”

He paused for a moment and then added, “Uncle Gosinevskaya said he would help take care of the family. Although he’s missing a hand, he can still manage fifty acres of potato fields alone…”

“Damn it.”

Yanni suddenly thought of the letters his mother wrote to him when he first joined the army, and he found himself unable to tell this young man to go back.

He turned around and waved to the staff officer: “Tell the General Staff we couldn’t find that guy named Vizcek.”

“But… yes, sir.”

Vizcek was overjoyed and again stood at attention forcefully, shouting loudly, “Thank you, Colonel!”

Yanni replied without turning his head, “Stay in the camp, and return to Vizna right after we conquer Minsk.”

“Yes!”

Not long after the young sergeant left, a courier came rushing from the west, reining in his horse a short distance away and excitedly shouting to Yanni, “Lieutenant Colonel, sir, more than 600 reinforcements from the Palma will arrive in two hours. They are bringing a large amount of oats, 26 wagons of canned food, and three heavy cannons!”

Yanni was overjoyed.

He had only heard of canned food, which supposedly contained cooked meat and vegetables and could retain their original flavors even after three or four months of transportation.

Unexpectedly, the French allies directly sent 26 wagons this time!

Yes, now only France in Europe can produce canned food in large quantities, and it was evident where this batch of supplies came from without asking.

As for the heavy cannons, they were desperately needed.

In the past few months, the Russians, due to lack of supplies, had most of their artillery unable to fire. This allowed the Polish Army, which also lacked cannons, to maintain a decent offensive rhythm.

But in the past few days, the Russian artillery suddenly became fierce, causing more severe casualties among his soldiers, with two more Russian defense lines to cross before reaching Minsk.

Now, with additional cannons, he could finally go all out!

On the way to greet the reinforcements, Yanni somewhat proudly said to the officers beside him, “See, you were worried the French allies would abandon us and make peace with the Russians?”

“How many times have I said there are no ceasefire talks, it’s just a tactic by the Crown Prince to buy us time.”

Some officers nodded in agreement, while others lowered their heads in shame, “May the Crown Prince forgive our reckless thoughts…”

“I’m such a fool to have doubted our best ally…”

That afternoon, all the soldiers of the 12th Infantry Brigade rested against the parapet, enjoying a delicious stew of fish with carrots and potatoes—each getting at least three pieces of fish.

Since the signing of the Treaty of Prague, they had hardly had a decent piece of bread, and this sumptuous dinner lifted everyone’s spirits.

The next morning, three twelve-pounders suddenly roared at the Russian right flank, operated by the Palma Royal Artillery Battalion, with the fifth test shot accurately sweeping across the Russian infantry line, instantly creating a large blood mist.

The Polish soldiers cheered, launching the first wave of assaults before the Russian artillery could retaliate.

On the front lines of Minsk, in the Russian temporary command post, Kutuzov listened to the staff officer reading the order just received from His Majesty the Tsar, yet his eyes were always fixed on the Polish artillery firing in the distance.

He had submitted multiple reports to the Tsar, proposing that a ceasefire agreement with France was essential, but those lords in Saint Petersburg not only ignored it but also arrogantly walked out in Milan.

He could already foresee that the Polish logistics would improve, and new recruits would continuously arrive on the battlefield.

In comparison, although the British sent some supplies, the reinforcements from Saint Petersburg had yet to depart—perhaps the troops were diverted to Transcaucasia first.

In any case, he had to hold on in Minsk for at least two more months, waiting for the moment when the balance of forces would change.

Meanwhile, these Poles were fanatically assaulting his lines. In just over a month, he had already lost more than 5,000 soldiers.

Mind you, he was on the defensive.

After hearing Alexander I’s handwritten letter read out, Kutuzov immediately stood at attention and shouted, “Ula, Ula, Ula!”

Then he turned to the courier and said, “Order Vorobyev to construct a defense line along the Svislach River.”

The latter was stunned. The Svislach River was at the rear.