Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1565 - 1471: Seeking Life Amidst Death

“That’s absolutely impossible.” Kosciuszko instinctively shook his head, “Without cavalry, the Madalinski Corps is powerless to fight the enemy blocking their retreat!”

In this era, if a large corps goes into battle without cavalry, they are easily stretched out by the enemy and then cut apart by cavalry.

Moreover, the Russian Army has most likely already set up an ambush, and the Polish Army’s vanguard will face a tough battle.

But Saint-Cyr said in a relaxed tone, “Then don’t engage with the enemy.”

“How is that possible? The Russians are certainly on their way back to Yartsevo waiting for him…”

Saint-Cyr said, “That’s right, the Russians think so too, so General Madalinski won’t take that route.”

Vavretsky exclaimed excitedly, “That’s how it should be! We’re not retreating, we’re continuing to march towards Moscow!”

He stopped halfway, noticing that the surrounding officers were glaring at him with fierce eyes, and quickly shut his mouth.

Saint-Cyr had the attendant bring a map: “If General Madalinski forgoes all cavalry and most of the cannons, they could reduce the logistics they’re carrying by 90%.

“After which they can advance lightly along here…”

Kosciuszko frowned and interrupted him, “Colonel, if we do that, the Madalinski Corps would immediately encounter enemy interceptions. You mentioned before that the Russians might plan a three-sided encirclement.”

Saint-Cyr nodded, “There’s a significant risk, but retreating directly to Yartsevo is even more dangerous.

“And another advantage is that we don’t have to wait at Yartsevo to support General Madalinski.”

Kosciuszko contemplated for a moment and then silently nodded his head.

He still had 30,000 soldiers here, and with nearly 10,000 guarding Smolensk and Orsha, they also needed to return home quickly.

The Polish Army’s logistics were already exhausted. Leaving a day early could give them a slightly better chance of survival.

Saint-Cyr added, “Actually, besides slaughtering some of the abandoned cavalry for food, they could also serve as ‘cover’…”

After he finished speaking, Kosciuszko finally hesitated no longer and instructed the staff officer, “Immediately draft an operational plan as Colonel Saint-Cyr suggested and send it to General Madalinski.”

“Yes, Marshal!”

Kosciuszko glanced at the large camp by the Vop River and said to Saint-Cyr, “Shall we also retreat to Minsk immediately?”

But Saint-Cyr shook his head, “Marshal, I wouldn’t recommend that.

“The towns and villages along the Minsk to Dorogobuzh line have certainly been ‘cleansed’ by Kutuzov’s orders. We will find no supplies on our way back.

“With the continuous harassment from the Russians, we would be worn down before reaching the right bank of the Dnieper River.”

Hmm, these are situations that were mentioned in the Regent’s stories.

Kosciuszko said gravely, “Do you have a plan?”

Saint-Cyr nodded, “Kutuzov couldn’t have emptied all the towns in Russia. We need to go where there are still supplies.”

On the way here, he had analyzed the battlefield situation predicted by the Regent countless times—he had long concluded it wasn’t just a story, but a precise simulation of the battlefield by the Regent—finally coming up with a single method to free the Polish Army from their predicament.

“We must also abandon all unnecessary baggage to ensure we can march at the fastest possible speed…”

…

February 3, 1801.

Vyazma City, 160 kilometers east of Smolensk.

The church had been converted into the Russian Army’s command post. In reality, apart from 30,000 Russian soldiers, there were no residents left here.

Kutuzov sipped his vodka in small amounts, spreading out the report on the table, and a smile soon appeared on his face.

40,000 Polish Army were stepping into his death trap step by step—in a range of over 300 Russian miles ahead of them, there wasn’t even a single potato.

Even if the Poles managed to reach Moscow, it would still be a dead end. The Tsar had authorized him to evacuate this great city too.

Of course, he wouldn’t wait for the Poles to penetrate so far.

He had calculated many times that, according to the current intensity of Cossack Cavalry’s raids on the Polish logistics convoy, the Polish Army could only make it to Vyazma before running out of food and fodder.

And he was waiting here to give them a crushing blow.

He wouldn’t seek to annihilate the Poles, but follow them slowly and watch as winter gradually claims their lives.

Kutuzov poured the last drop of vodka from the glass into his mouth, muttering with relish, but he didn’t order his attendant to pour more.

Never getting drunk was one of his most vital life principles.

He finished reading the battle report and then picked up the casualty statistics just submitted by the staff, frowning.

Last week, as many as 142 soldiers froze or died of illness.

He knew this was after considerable concealment by the officers, and the actual number was at least double.

He turned to shout to the staff at the door, “Tell those guys at the Quartermaster’s Office that if they don’t fully deliver the winter clothes and bread I need this week, I’ll personally write to His Majesty the Emperor!”

He wasn’t afraid of death, but they had to die on the battlefield, in combat with the enemy.

As soon as that staff had left, a courier hurriedly came, handing a battle report to Kutuzov: “General, the Poles left Dorogobuzh yesterday morning.”

Kutuzov nodded indifferently, “Then they should almost be at Pereyaslav Village by now.”

He was speaking when he suddenly froze. The report clearly stated that the Polish Madalinski Corps was retreating westwards.

“These cunning fellows!”

Kutuzov stood up a little annoyed, “They must have noticed the logistics situation.”

He glanced at the map and waved to the Order Officer, “Casanova, order Vitgenstein and Tolmasov to launch a pincer attack, slow down the Poles’ retreat, but don’t rush into a decisive battle.”

These two corps, deployed south and north of Dorogobuzh, were key components of his encirclement plan.

“Also, have Uvarov lead the cavalry in pursuit immediately.”

After issuing the commands, Kutuzov muttered a series of “damns.”

To know, he had emptied all the villages from the Dnieper River to Moscow. And the Madalinski Corps retreating halfway meant that the losses in nearly the 200-kilometer region east of Dorogobuzh were all wasted.

However, good news came the next day.

Tolmasov’s cavalry spotted a large group of Polish Winged Cavalry 30 Russian miles west of Dorogobuzh, numbering over 5,000, which should be Madalinski’s main force.

However, before Kutuzov could breathe a sigh of relief, a courier rushed in with a report, saying that the main Polish rear troops originally stationed at the Yartsevo Ferry had suddenly disappeared.