He Became Napoleon’S Genius Son [EN]: Chapter 107

(107) Pull Wurmser Out of Brescia

Wurmser was certain he had rushed there as fast as he could.

“Unbelievable. Who lost? Quosdanovich? Why!”

On August 20, 1795, Wurmser entered Brescia in less than a month.

Leading 30,000 troops from Tyrol this quickly was exceptional.

Especially considering the road conditions of the time, which often turned into mud pits.

Yet, the news that greeted him upon arriving in Brescia was devastating.

The vanguard, Quosdanovich’s army, was annihilated.

Clearly, he should have gone to Mantua first.

Or at least stayed near Brescia.

Unable to believe the news of the annihilation, Wurmser grilled Kleenau, the adjutant who had returned alive.

Kleenau, with a wretched face, cried out, covered in blood.

“It’s not just a defeat. Everyone except the Hussar cavalry at the rear was either killed or captured!”

“The cannons! What happened to the artillery!”

“All of it, in the enemy’s hands.”

Only 1,000 Hussar cavalry had returned without even fighting.

If they had at least scattered and engaged in individual battles, it wouldn’t have been so frustrating.

But Quosdanovich had been caught before he could even properly use his forces.

Speechless, Wurmser looked up at the sky and shouted.

“Quosdanovich! Give me back my artillery! No, my infantry too!”

It is said that Augustus, the first emperor of the ancient Roman Empire, shouted this.

After losing 20,000 troops to the Germanic tribes, towards the dead commander.

Demanding the army back.

Wurmser was not an emperor, but his despair was no different.

He had spoken loudly to the Imperial War Council and marched south with massive support.

He had created a thorough plan, ensuring every operation moved on a daily schedule.

He had even placed the experienced commander Quosdanovich in the vanguard to handle any on-site changes with improvisation.

But the very Quosdanovich he had trusted had been caught off guard and annihilated.

At that moment, an old general standing behind Wurmser spoke.

“Commander, we need a plan for the next step.”

Major General Bahlix von Bahazar, 61 years old.

Originally from Dalmatia, he was a master of commanding Grenzer light infantry [light infantry units from the Military Frontier regions of the Austrian Empire].

Another veteran who had fought on the battlefield since the Seven Years’ War, Wurmser had brought him along for his familiarity with light infantry maneuvers.

Wurmser turned around.

Major General Paul Davidovich, Count Anton Ferdinand Mittrowsky, Major General Anton Schwirz von Csobini of the Hussars.

Generals who had achieved victories with Wurmser several times on the Rhine.

Wurmser still had his forces intact.

Finally regaining his composure, Wurmser took a breath and turned his fox-like face.

“Kleenau, did you see it? The speed of the enemy?”

“Yes. It’s truly extraordinary. They appeared at unexpected moments!”

“Yes. Then they must be lacking supplies!”

Even in the face of 20,000 annihilated, Wurmser sharply identified the enemy’s weaknesses.

Clearly, giving up supplies would increase the speed of both infantry and cavalry.

However, there was one thing Wurmser didn’t know.

That was the existence of canned food.

But for now, Wurmser, like the old veteran, carefully gathered information.

“Roselmini, what about you? Did you see anything? You’re a survivor, so you must have seen something? Did the enemy seem to have supply wagons?”

General Roselmini, who had also survived, stammered.

“N-no, I didn’t see any.”

“What are you saying? Not in that mumbling voice! I can’t hear you! Speak clearly, accurately, and truthfully! Did you see them, or didn’t you!”

“N-n-no, I didn’t! Commander!”

Then, a young officer standing on one side of the fortress headquarters spoke up.

“I saw them!”

Wurmser turned his gaze towards the young officer.

“Who are you?”

“Radetzky, sir! Major!”

“Oh, a survivor. Good! What was it like!”

Major Radetzky swallowed hard.

This time, just surviving wouldn’t be enough.

An officer who had repeatedly suffered defeats would hardly be given another chance.

The key was to deliver the most accurate information possible.

Recalling his memories, Radetzky shouted in a clear tone.

“They have almost no supply wagons! They carry food in some kind of strange [containers]. Small cans!”

Very accurate information had come in, but Wurmser failed to grasp the reality of that information.

“Probably dried meat. Or smoked meat?”

“Still, Lombardy is fertile. Or, if they plunder the vicinity, they can secure enough food.”

“Major General Davidovich, you know as well as I do that it’s still summer! It’s not the time when wheat is plentiful! The same goes for meat!”

Reprimanding Davidovich, who was practically the second-in-command of the corps, Wurmser’s eyes gleamed.

“Good, we’ll hold out in Brescia. And tell Alvinczy’s reinforcements to come via the opposite route! East of Lake Garda!”

Davidovich’s eyes widened.

After all, this was the authoritarian Austrian Imperial Army.

So there was no reason to be angry for being reprimanded.

Although the fact that a superior’s orders were not absolute was also a trap.

The problem was different.

Even though the vanguard had been annihilated, were they going to face the enemy as originally planned?

“Are we proceeding as originally planned?”

“The vanguard was merely annihilated! Our main force is still 30,000 strong, and if Alvinczy’s reinforcements come, it will increase to 70,000! They are ultimately human beings, and they use the same weapons as us. With more than twice the numbers, what will happen?”

“Ah, that’s!”

Wurmser nodded and shouted loudly.

“The only reason Bonaparte has won so far is because of numbers. In the end. If we have more numbers, we will win! Absolutely!”

This time, it wasn’t just shouting because he was hard of hearing.

He needed to inform everyone after the defeat.

That the war wasn’t over yet, and there was still plenty of chance of winning.

Just as the officers in the headquarters were all nodding, Wurmser slammed his hand on the desk at the fortress headquarters.

“When Alvinczy arrives, that’s when we go to Mantua. That’s the only way to match their speed!”

If that happened, Wurmser would be able to realize what he had originally planned.

That was the decapitation encirclement of the enemy commander, Napoleon.

***

Napoleon’s strategic objective had only reached the starting point.

“Wurmser has stopped. This is another unexpected event.”

Napoleon’s Italian Army had set up a temporary headquarters in the town of Lonato.

The joy of defeating 20,000 troops and acquiring about 30 cannons was fleeting.

If they couldn’t annihilate the enemy’s main force, the Holy Roman Empire, this expedition would fail.

But the enemy’s commander-in-chief, the veteran Wurmser, had stopped in Brescia.

Even if more enemy troops were to come, they had to defeat Wurmser at the very least.

That was the only way to break Austria’s will to wage war.

This was the grand strategy that Napoleon was thinking of, and the war principle of the new era.

Suddenly, Chief of Staff Berthier, who was inspecting the map, strategic reports, and supply situation, coldly stated.

“Brescia is literally a fortress. It will be difficult to capture.”

“Fortress warfare is not in my French dictionary, Berthier.”

“It must be a defective product. Anyway, it’s definitely difficult. Moreover, if we get tied up there, we might be ambushed by mountain maneuvers at any time.”

Eugene briefly pondered whether Napoleon’s words would be recorded in history.

But the others seemed to be casually dismissing the French dictionary remark.

In any case, Napoleon’s French vocabulary usage was not accurate, to put it mildly.

The spelling errors were so numerous that even Eugene could see them.

Ironically, in the original history, it was Napoleon who established standard French.

Anyway, Napoleon seemed to have just said it, as he looked around with fire in his eyes.

“We have to draw him out. How can we draw Wurmser out? Anyone have any good ideas?”

Napoleon’s club members, Adjutant Eugene, Junot, Marmont, Duroc, Ippolito.

Major generals in the corps, Massena, Augereau, Lannes.

Including Chief of Staff Berthier and Guard Commander Dalmagne, and other generals, all became speechless.

How to draw Wurmser out?

He was such a cunning fox that he wouldn’t fall for just any trick.

Suddenly, Massena clicked his tongue.

“If I had known this would happen, I would have left some prisoners.”

“What are you talking about, Massena? You were the one who led the pursuit most enthusiastically.”

“Oh, Augereau. What’s wrong? You killed even the friends in your division who wanted to surrender back then. I know you suffered during the march, but.”

Just as Massena and Augereau were having a light argument, Chief Adjutant Eugene shook his head.

“No. Even if it’s cruel, annihilation is the right choice. If we carelessly leave prisoners, it will put too much burden on our army. We don’t have the capacity to protect prisoners or land right now.”

At the chilling words, Massena, Augereau, and Lannes all raised their eyebrows.

On the other hand, the adjutants who had been with Eugene since Toulon nodded.

Even Napoleon himself just nodded and didn’t blame Eugene.

“It can’t be helped in war. Then, instead of exchanging prisoners, what’s the plan to draw out the enemy? [Sharpshooter] Eugene?”

Freischütz, meaning sharpshooter, was a term Napoleon used as a nickname.

Napoleon was just throwing out a word with a nickname without expecting anything.

But Eugene bit his lip and suddenly blurted out.

“There are three options. One is to move our entire army to Mantua.”

“That’s rejected. Conquering a citadel in the middle of a lake is more difficult than trying to occupy Brescia. Besides, according to the scouts, the firing range isn’t enough.”

“There’s also the option of giving up Milan.”

Napoleon whistled.

“That’s a very dangerous strategy. I like it, but I’m afraid I’ll get fired by the Republic’s Directors if I do that? Don’t you think? Marmont?”

The quick-witted Marmont nodded with a bitter smile.

“That’s probably right. What the General promised was the conquest of Italy, not the loss of Milan.”

“Yes. If I only think about winning, giving up Milan would work. But my position is based on only one thing. A victory that anyone can easily see. If there’s even a slight delay, my position is at risk of being dismissed.”

“Since Commander Marceau is acting as a proxy in Paris, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Napoleon shook his head.

“In such a turbulent period, you can’t guarantee anything. What’s the last option, Freischütz?”

Mantua was difficult to capture.

Milan was a big enough bait to lure the enemy, but it risked provoking the Directors in Paris.

Then what kind of method would work?

Eugene had been thinking about it since earlier, but he finally spoke the last resort that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“The Commander becomes the bait.”

Just as everyone’s eyes widened, Eugene explained quickly, like firing a cannon.

“Make the entire army embark on the conquest of Venice. This is something that both domestic and foreign countries, the home country and the enemy country, can understand. Seizing strategic locations is the common sense of the current battlefield.”

This was actually something that happened by chance in the original history.

It wasn’t something that Napoleon intentionally did, but he unintentionally remained isolated.

And that’s what the Battle of Arcole is about.

But Eugene was proposing to make this isolation of Napoleon more planned.

“By doing so, the Commander’s main force is reduced to the point where the enemy can come out. In that situation, when the enemy comes out, the scattered divisions will regroup.”

“A recreation of Lodi. Except that it’s on a wider scale.”

“That was accidental, but this time we’re realizing it as a plan.”

Then, Augereau, a cautious and principled general who couldn’t stand it, shouted.

“Commander, if anything goes wrong, you’ll be in danger!”

But Napoleon was already flashing his eyes.

He liked the boldness of the operation.

And the gambling-like results that would come back when it succeeded.

“Hahaha! Augereau, I think you’re provoking me knowingly.”

“Your Excellency!”

“Hey, ask Lannes. Am I someone who fears death!”

Lannes, who was looking at Napoleon with an absurd face, burst into laughter.

“He certainly wasn’t on the bridge of Lodi. That was the first time I saw a man bolder than me!”

In the end, Napoleon made a decision.

“Good! Everyone except Dalmagne, Marmont’s artillery, and Duroc’s postal regiment will march out.”

“Commander, please reconsider!”

“Augereau, your unit is also marching out. I hope you come back the fastest. Oh, send a messenger to have Laharpe advance too!”

That was the moment when the fishing operation with Napoleon as bait was decided.

***

The problem is that a deception operation has to deceive even your own allies for the enemy to be deceived.

“So, our division will be going with you guys?”

Massena smiled cheerfully and looked back at Eugene.

The fastest infantry division, Massena’s division, would be with Eugene.

Lannes’s Pyrenean cavalry was also attached.

Lannes tilted his head.

“Why do we have to be attached too? Is there a reason?”

Eugene said concisely.

“General Lannes, we have to take on the most troublesome mission in the deception operation. So, we’re only attaching the fastest people.”

“What is it?”

“We have to achieve actual results to deceive them. Other units can just pretend to move, but we really have to occupy a city. That’s the only way Wurmser will move.”

Eugene pointed to the map on horseback and declared.

“The target is Verona.”

Massena nodded and moved his horse to command his division.

Lannes also rode towards his brigade.

All that remained was Eugene’s Chasseur à Cheval [light cavalry] brigade.

Suddenly, Murat shouted from the front.

“Good, let’s march out! We’re the fastest in Italy!”

Looking at that, Ippolito asked Eugene in disbelief.

“Why is Murat shouting?”

“He’s motivated, has the loudest voice, and is also tall.”

“Next time, we should mass-produce megaphones. I used them in the Vendée before, and they were good.”

Eugene chuckled and grabbed the reins.

“We’ll think about that later. Now is the time to run!”

Eugene’s black horse began to run.

-Doo-doo-doo!

August 23, 1795.

Eugene, Lannes, and Massena advanced towards Verona.

For a corps-level fishing operation of 37,000 troops to catch the Holy Roman Empire army.