He Became Napoleon’S Genius Son [EN]: Chapter 114

(114) Napoleon’s Magic Makes Its Debut

La Mob-sur-des-Lérieres.

Rear Maneuver Strike.

In later years, war historians would refer to this simple maneuver with such terms.

Napoleon’s [Magic], they called it.

At this moment, Napoleon himself was convinced.

“Behold! This is my magic!”

Napoleon roared, tossing aside his expensive telescope.

Finally, Eugène, and perhaps Lannes and Masséna, had arrived as expected.

As Dalmacy hastily reached for the telescope, Napoleon looked around.

Excited, Napoleon exclaimed,

“Now, did you see that, Junot!”

“He must be on the highlands, probably running with General Eugène.”

“Damn it. Marmont, Duroc, or even Hippolyte! What, is no one here? My adjutants? Berthier?”

The core adjutants of the [Napoleon Club], who had been with him on the night of Fructidor [September 4, 1797, when Napoleon helped the Directory seize power] in Paris.

None of them were here now.

Of course, it wasn’t that he had no orderlies or attendants, but all the confidants with whom Napoleon wanted to share his joy were out on the field.

Only Berthier stood beside him, perfectly calm.

Napoleon, enraged, shouted,

“I need to recruit new adjutants. No one is around when I need them!”

“It’s because the Commander sent them away.”

“Shut up, you goose! Then you should have recruited new adjutants in advance! Anyway!”

Napoleon pointed forward, as if scolding the composed Berthier.

“This is like breaking eggs to make an omelet. It’s so obvious, but no one can think of it in a crisis!”

Napoleon’s state of mind was like that of a soccer player who had just scored a goal.

No player is ever certain they will score.

But when they finally score after outmaneuvering the defenders according to plan, their heart swells with excitement.

In fact, he had countless images in his head, but Napoleon hadn’t been sure it would turn out this well.

But now that certainty had become reality.

Berthier calmly replied to the jubilant Napoleon,

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Look! At the magic I created!”

“I am watching. You gathered all the military units you wanted, at the time and place you wanted.”

Berthier stared ahead, his voice as cold as pouring cold water.

“In a situation where you have completely isolated, fixed, and left the enemy alone.”

This is what would later be recorded as Napoleon’s magic.

Freely manipulating place, time, and troops.

He would not hesitate to engage in direct confrontation if necessary, but he would avoid direct clashes of main forces as much as possible.

Fix the enemy, maneuver the allies, and strike the enemy’s weaknesses with the allies’ strengths.

Berthier had very sharply grasped what Napoleon had envisioned.

Napoleon nodded excitedly.

“Yes, that’s it. Würmser must have thought he was trapping me. But!”

“Rather, he became so constricted that he couldn’t maneuver.”

“Next, he deceived the enemy’s march with all sorts of obstacles!”

Of course, Napoleon didn’t plan all of that.

In fact, he only set the broad strokes, and the actual implementation was done directly by the division and brigade commanders.

Even a genius strategist cannot execute a strategy unless commanders move at the tactical or operational level.

Masséna, Augereau, and Eugène had lived up to Napoleon’s expectations.

Berthier nodded calmly and said,

“Finally, you strike the enemy’s rear and flanks very quickly. Isn’t that the method Your Excellency has used?”

Suddenly, Napoleon frowned.

“You know very well. Then what don’t you know?”

“I don’t know about the omelet.”

“What?”

Still with a cool face, Berthier stared at Napoleon and asked seriously,

“What does the omelet have to do with it?”

Of course, it was just a figure of speech.

But the serious Berthier seemed more curious about the metaphor.

Speechless, Napoleon opened his mouth wide, then shouted at Dalmacy,

“Get that stupid goose out of my sight right now!”

“Then it will be difficult to command.”

“Damn it! Then get rid of him after the war, Berthier! Until then, stay by my side! Understand!”

While Dalmacy hadn’t said a word, Berthier suddenly smiled and replied,

“It won’t take that long, Your Excellency.”

The stalemate was broken, and a full-scale firepower battle was beginning.

***

The battle plan of the Horse Grenadier Brigade was to retreat as quickly as possible after the initial strike.

To put it bluntly, hit and run.

Running away from the enemy is the core of the grenadier’s battle method.

Eugène had also returned immediately after delivering the initial blow.

Suddenly, Eugène, who had returned to Masséna’s side, frowned.

“Ugh, I didn’t know they would use cannons like this!”

At that moment, a cannon fired nearby.

-Bang!

The cannonball flew in the wrong direction, hitting a place where there were no enemies.

It was being fired as a kind of distraction.

Of course, the greater effect was separate.

Masséna listened to the cannon fire like music, then chuckled.

“It’s not for nothing that I brought a fully equipped unit. The number of artillery pieces doesn’t matter much at times like this.”

“Then what matters!”

“It’s important to disrupt the enemy with artillery and also to let our allies know of our presence. Freischütz [German for ‘free shooter,’ a skilled marksman].”

Calling Eugène Freischütz, or marksman, Masséna mounted his horse.

The time for the infantry to advance was approaching.

With a light wave, Masséna told Eugène.

“Hmm, the enemy is a mess one way or another. Your unit should fall back now.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The marksman only needs a chance to fire his magic bullets, doesn’t he?”

Suddenly, Masséna ran towards Lannes’s 13th Cavalry Regiment, which was preparing to charge from the side.

“Hey, Lannes! Have you ever learned about combined arms tactics!”

Lannes, who was already about to sortie, scoffed.

“Who would teach me that crap! I’m not from the military academy!”

“Then learn it from now on!”

“No way. No need to learn!”

Suddenly, Lannes shouted as he charged forward,

“Just advance on your own. I’ll adjust on my own!”

The opponent was the old general Würmser, skilled in infantry formations.

A reckless cavalry charge would obviously melt away in the musket fire.

Was Lannes stupid enough not to know that?

Masséna looked back at the division’s deputy commander, Brigadier General Serboni.

“Serboni, what do you think?”

“Lannes is not stupid. Maybe if it were Junot or Murat of the Horse Grenadier Brigade, but he will really come on his own.”

“Okay. Let’s see if he’s really a fool or a cavalry commander who will change the landscape of this battlefield?”

After exchanging words that slightly insulted Junot and Murat, Masséna ordered,

“Brune! Advance the entire division in column! Place the rifle units in the front line!”

Brigadier General Brune, a practical commander, formed the unit under Masséna’s orders.

“Now, let’s go! Warriors of the revolution! Overthrow the oppression of the empire!”

As the ardent republican General Brune roared, the soldiers who had not been able to fight until now responded as if answering.

-Woah!

Masséna’s division, numbering about 10,000, began to advance in column.

They ran in columns of three ranks for each battalion.

If they entered the musket range of the enemies in this formation, they would likely melt away in the fire.

The Austrian army, despite being virtually surrounded, was calm in its command.

They were beginning to form linear formations by regiment.

Serboni reported to Masséna while riding his horse.

“They are approaching within range!”

Masséna waved his baton.

“Change to line! Open fire!”

At that moment, something unbelievable happened from the Austrian army’s perspective.

The soldiers who had been running in columns, that is, vertically, stopped.

At the same time, the battalions spread out into lines as if forming a formation all at once.

The result of the Masséna division’s training in mixed formations had appeared.

The guns held by those at the very front were, of course, Ferguson rifles, breech-loading screw-in rifles.

-Bang! Click, clack. Bang! Click, clack. Bang!

It was not effective range.

But as they began firing as a threat, the Austrian army’s line wavered.

This was because it was within 200 meters, the distance where bullets could reach, even if it was not the killing distance of 80 meters.

As the number of soldiers hit by shrapnel increased, the formation became even more distorted.

Serboni reported on the situation.

“The enemy’s formation is wavering!”

Masséna smiled strangely, smoking a cigarette.

“Now, Lannes. It’s now. How about it?”

As if listening to Masséna’s words, the cavalry charged out from the side.

-Doo-doo-doo!

It was the cavalry that had sortied earlier than Masséna.

However, they had deliberately maneuvered around to match the speed.

The moment when the infantry engaged in combat and scattered the enemy’s lines.

Serboni, watching Lannes running, exclaimed.

“Corner breakthrough!”

Even in an era when the line infantry’s formation was the best defensive formation, there was a way for the cavalry.

It was to aim for the corners of the formation, the gaps in the square.

It was the point where the infantry formation was most vulnerable to the cavalry’s strike.

Masséna also whistled and asked.

“That’s textbook. How can that guy do that so well without even going to military academy?”

“I don’t think you went to military academy either, General.”

“I’m an extraordinary person!”

Serboni, who was laughing as if dumbfounded, looked at Masséna and nodded.

“That general seems to be an extraordinary person too.”

The man who was listening to Masséna and Serboni’s strange compliments, Lannes, whipped his horse and shouted.

“Run, you Gascony morons! If we don’t carve up those Alpine hillbillies today, we’re all going to the latrine!”

The cavalry from Gascony [a region in southwestern France] ran all at once.

The first attack was, of course, with pistols.

The entire cavalry aimed their guns forward.

-Bang! Bang! Bang!

A shootout broke out as if they were engaging in combat with each other.

The Austrian army also fired, and the cavalry fired four single-shot pistols in turn.

Neither side could fire continuously.

Eventually, the cavalry’s horses and the infantry formation collided.

“Hee-ho! The line has been breached!”

It was the moment when Lasalle, who claimed to be a hussar [a type of light cavalry], shouted.

“Break through to the right flank and get out! Don’t look back!”

As Lannes shouted, Lasalle followed and shouted.

“Is that okay!”

“Yes!”

“There was no discussion with Division Commander Masséna!”

Lannes glanced at Lasalle, whom he had brought instead of Bessières, and whipped his horse.

“It doesn’t matter. Your superior, the boy officer, is waiting!”

After that, the Horse Grenadier Brigade came rushing in again like a wave.

-Whoosh, bang!

The last remaining Eugène grenades poured down.

***

The sight of the formation collapsing in various places can be seen.

“Is this the war of a new era?”

Würmser stood helplessly, watching the battlefield from the center of the camp.

He had clearly responded in a textbook manner, and he had counterattacked each time the enemy launched an unexpected strike.

However, the wave-like attacks of Masséna, Lannes, and Eugène, which had rushed in last, were overwhelming.

In addition, Napoleon’s main force had finally joined in from the front.

It was literally a situation of being crushed to death from both sides.

In the distance, in the lowlands, the sight of Schvirts’s light cavalry finally unable to withstand and retreating could also be seen.

Suddenly, Deputy Commander Davidovich shouted.

“It’s just a coincidence! It’s just that their follow-up unit came first by luck! Than Alvinczy!”

“No, Field Marshal Davidovich. That’s no coincidence.”

“Then what is it! How can they attack at this time, in this place, in this situation!”

Würmser looked at the sky.

An eagle seemed to be hovering in the sky.

Was the carrion hunter waiting for the number of corpses to increase on the ground?

However, the eagle was originally a symbol of the emperor.

For some reason, Würmser felt as if he was seeing an [eagle] being born on the battlefield.

Würmser, looking back at Napoleon’s side in the lowland base, lamented.

“That must be the real [magic] that Napoleon wields.”

There was no way to explain it.

Other than the word magic.

Davidovich gritted his teeth and turned around.

“The commander can do as he pleases! I will not give up!”

“Your Excellency Field Marshal Davidovich! Where are you going!”

“Shut up, Klenau! I’m not staying here!”

At that moment.

-Bang!

With the gunshot, Davidovich, who had been venting his frustration next to him, was thrown back.

Würmser was surprised and raised his head.

The cavalry with pistols in their hands was already rushing in.

His adjutant Klenau had already been caught in the gunfire and collapsed.

The soldiers around him were running away, being shot and killed.

Würmser, who was blankly watching the scene, asked the boy at the head.

“Are you the famous gambling prodigy?”

“Yes, I am.”

“It seems like you don’t have any bullets left.”

Eugène stared at Würmser, then aimed his gun.

“No, I have. This gun has two bullets.”

In an instant, before Würmser could move, the bullet was fired.

-Click, bang!

At the same time, silver letters appeared before Eugène’s eyes.

[Enemy Commander Würmser, deceased.]

This silver notification was the ability that had made Eugène a ‘commander killer’ in the meantime.

It was also the driving force that allowed him to rejoin the Masséna division while returning.

But all of this was originally planned by Napoleon, and also thanks to Masséna’s excellent maneuver.

He had killed three commanders, but Eugène was still not sure.

“Could I have done this?”

Eugène muttered without realizing it.

“The commander is dead! That’s what happened!”

“Damn it! I missed it again! Our brigade commander stole the credit first!”

“That’s it, the commander is dead!”

Junot, Murat, and Hippolyte ran up and shouted.

Eugène glanced at them and nodded.

The battle was not over yet.

“Take care of the rest, all of them. No need to keep them alive.”

Murat was startled and said to Eugène.

“No, originally there was prisoner exchange, or ransom, or something.”

“Murat.”

“Ah, I understand!”

The Horse Grenadier Brigade drew their sabers and slaughtered the terrified Austrian soldiers.

Eugène left the massacre behind and came down to the lowlands with only Hippolyte and Tournay.

Even in the lowlands, slaughter was taking place everywhere.

Napoleon turned his head, watching the scene of bayonets stabbing soldiers who had been hit by bullets.

It was a strange face, a mixture of joy, elation, and disgust at the massacre.

“Our son, are you only coming now?”

Eugène gave a heavy salute.

“I have returned safely. Your Excellency.”

“Call me Father. Who is the next opponent, then?”

“It’s Alvinczy.”

Eugène’s gaze was directed northeast, towards Lake Garda in the distance.

“Before Würmser died, he said that Alvinczy would come from the north. It seems he is already coming.”

Of course, Würmser didn’t say a word.

There was no silver letter notification either.

But originally, Alvinczy does come in the original history.

At Eugène’s report, Napoleon lightly flicked his hand.

“Good. Then, let’s make the stage to fight him Venice! We will defeat him and completely conquer Northern Italy!”

Lake Garda is no longer the place Napoleon wants.

Now, it was time to unleash a new [magic].

August 27, 1795, Castiglione.

Würmser’s 30,000 Tyrol Corps was annihilated.

It was the moment when Napoleon achieved a complete victory.