He Became Napoleon’S Genius Son [EN]: Chapter 74

(74) The Italian Command is a Mess

Even in the age of revolutionary wars, abandoned command posts are not uncommon.

“Another commander change? Good heavens, isn’t this the fifth already!”

In January 1795, in Nice, near the French border, a man looks up to the sky and laments.

His name is Andre Massena.

A former smuggler, a navigator who crossed not only the Mediterranean but also the Atlantic to reach South America.

Native to Nice, he has been serving in the Italian command since the revolution began.

However, with five commanders having come and gone, they haven’t even managed a proper advance, merely marking time here.

Using a desk as a chair, he crumples the new commander’s appointment order.

His colleague, General Augereau, inspecting the command headquarters, chides him.

“What’s wrong? At least you’ve achieved some merit, Massena.”

“What merit! Is repelling the attacking enemy a merit? Winning battles and occupying land, that’s merit!”

“Well, as you said, this is the fifth commander; how is that even possible?”

Pierre Augereau, a division commander one year older than Massena at 38, scratches his head and smiles bitterly.

“Lapoype, Dumerbion, Schérer, Kellermann, and now Bonaparte again.”

François Lapoype, Pierre Dumerbion, Joseph Schérer, François Kellermann.

All generals of the Revolutionary Army who have cycled through the Italian Army command.

In any case, none of them were particularly incompetent like [Jean-Baptiste] Carnot of Toulon or [Jean Antoine] Rossignol of the Vendée. (These were generals known for their failures in specific campaigns.)

Their command was reasonably good, they were quite diligent, and they fought hard.

But that alone yielded no significant results.

Massena himself advanced to Loano, right in front of Genoa, but that was the extent of it.

Ultimately, they failed to cross the Republic of Genoa, and they never even saw the Duchy of Savoy beyond it.

They remain in Nice, unable to break through the coastal defenses at the southwestern end of the Alps.

That is all the Italian Legion has accomplished in the five years since the revolution began.

Now, the commander is changing again.

There is no expectation.

That goes for everyone in the command.

Just as Massena was about to scoff, a middle-aged general entered from outside and hesitated.

“Bonaparte? That political officer is coming?”

“Oh, Senior Sérurier. Are you just hearing about it now? Well, haven’t they all been political officers until now? I guess that’s the same.”

“It’s not the same. Bonaparte is someone who got promoted through politics from the very beginning, isn’t he?”

Now 53, a soldier who has served since the Seven Years’ War, Jean-Mathieu Sérurier, shook his head.

“You worked under General Lapoype during the Toulon campaign, didn’t you, Massena? Have you forgotten what Bonaparte did back then?”

Massena was here when Lapoype was the commander of the Italian Legion.

He has been serving in the Italian Legion the longest among the command headquarters members.

He also participated in the Toulon suppression campaign under Lapoype.

He roughly knows the situation of the commander replacement drama.

Something a conventional soldier could never imagine.

However, Augereau, who seemed quite diligent, retorted disrespectfully.

“Does it matter?”

“Augereau, what do you mean?”

“Even if one of us becomes the commander, can we break through this situation, General Sérurier?”

Augereau shouted with a stiff face.

“It doesn’t matter who it is. As long as they get us out of this frustrating Nice!”

Sérurier was speechless and couldn’t say anything.

The character and ability of the commander are the most important issues in the military.

Because thousands, or even tens of thousands, of lives can be lost with a single order.

If the new commander is a man who only relies on political connections, isn’t that truly dangerous?

At that moment, the smuggler Massena laughed heartily and jumped off the desk.

“Puhahaha! Good. As expected of you, Monsieur Augereau. Prepare diligently.”

“Where are you going, Massena? Shouldn’t your division be inspected?”

“Entrust that to our diligent Augereau as well. Senior Sérurier? I’ll be going now!”

Watching Massena leave with a playful salute, Sérurier sighed deeply again.

“Acting as he pleases. When is the quartermaster general supposed to arrive?”

Augereau shrugged, setting aside the commander’s appointment order.

“He’s already here.”

“What? When? He didn’t even report to us?”

“He stopped by the headquarters earlier. He said he was going to inspect the supplies. Well, he has quite the impressive background. A participant in the American Revolutionary War, a staff officer in the Versailles Guards, a chief of staff in the Vendée suppression army, and a chief of staff in the Alpine Army.”

Sérurier, who was listening to the story, widened his eyes again.

“Could his name be Alexandre Berthier?”

“Oh, do you know him?”

“Of course, I know him. That friend is suspected of helping Madame de Polignac and the princes escape.”

[Yolande de Polastron, duchesse de Polignac] Chief lady-in-waiting Madame de Polignac, the Count of Provence and the Count of Artois (brothers of King Louis XVI), and even King Louis’ aunts.

All of them are the highest-ranking members of the former royal family who are rumored to have been helped to escape by a soldier named Berthier.

From the Republic’s point of view, he is nothing short of a traitor.

Such a dangerous person is being assigned to the legion?

Clearly, they must have sent him because he was too troublesome to send anywhere else.

The revolutionary soldier Augereau clicked his tongue at the news that the chief of staff, following the political soldier commander, was also a subversive element.

“That’s just great. I heard that the ‘Knight of the Princess’ is coming this time.”

“What? Wait, are you talking about that boy who threw ink on Robespierre’s face during the Queen’s trial?”

“You know him. I heard he washed away his sins with his outstanding performance in Toulon. I didn’t see him, but Massena probably did.”

In the end, the middle-aged man Sérurier lowered his head in despair.

“Oh, this is a disaster. Well, maybe the royalists left in our army will like it. Isn’t he the savior of the Vendée?”

This is the reality of the French Revolutionary Army’s abandoned card.

The state of the Italian command.

***

In reality, the problems run even deeper.

“The savior of the Vendée is coming!”

The Nice command consists of barracks, temporary buildings, and houses that were originally civilian residences.

There has been no time to construct a proper military headquarters, so the temporary setup has continued for five years.

Still, it’s quite usable, and it hasn’t collapsed yet.

For example, Division Commander Massena can lie on the roof of the barracks and enjoy his leisure time.

However, it’s not soundproof, so the voices of the soldiers below the roof can be heard.

“Didn’t he save us from almost dying in Toulon too?”

“Oh, did he? Well, I was forcibly conscripted back then.”

“Ugh, military life is killing me. I should have just died back then. Tch!”

After the soldiers left, chattering noisily, it became quiet.

“Phew, savior my ass.”

Finally feeling peaceful, Massena smiled, chewing on a blade of grass.

He feels like smoking a cigarette.

But the impoverished Italian Legion doesn’t even have a proper supply of tobacco.

“It’s winter, but the weather is nice. It would be best to go hunting on a day like this.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to go hunting.”

“What, the commander is coming, right? Huh? But, who are you?”

Glancing under the roof of the barracks, Massena tilted his head.

Short stature, neatly arranged uniform, stern-looking face.

He looks to be in his forties.

It’s a face he’s never seen before, and he’s not afraid of Massena.

Because of his rough life, people are usually intimidated by him at first glance.

“45,000 men, three divisions with no pay, let alone weapons.”

The middle-aged soldier clicked his tongue, looking around the barracks.

“The uniforms and shoes are a mess. It’s no wonder the soldiers have low morale.”

All accurate observations.

Anyway, since it’s conscription, there’s naturally no pay.

However, supplies aren’t properly provided either, so they have to resort to [requisitioning] from nearby civilian houses. (Taking supplies by force, often without compensation.)

Since they haven’t won any victories, there’s no chance of spoils of war.

But who is he to rummage through the command headquarters and discuss the situation?

Lightly scratching his beard, Massena asked with an intrigued look.

“So, who are you?”

“You should have seen me. Division Commander.”

“Me? When? Oh, wait.”

Massena snapped his fingers.

“Ah, the quartermaster general who came from the Alps? What’s his name?”

To be precise, he came from the Alpine Army in the Swiss region.

He did greet the command headquarters, but Massena wasn’t interested and didn’t remember his face.

The middle-aged soldier, Berthier, gave a polite salute.

“I am Brigadier General Alexandre Berthier. Just call me Berthier.”

“The last name is easier to pronounce. You can call me Massena. By the way, is the inspection already over?”

“The inspection is easy. Identifying the problems is a bit more difficult, but possible. Solving them is difficult.”

Massena raised the corner of his mouth and jumped down.

“Still, it’s fortunate that someone who knows that has come. Oof!”

A very light movement.

He is a man who once worked as a smuggler, almost a pirate.

But now he is an idle soldier, Massena, who has landed on the ground.

-Thud!

Standing in front of Berthier, Massena grinned.

“But, what to do? The new commander is a typical political officer?”

“Isn’t he the one who ended the Vendée rebellion? He conquered Toulon and saved Paris, right?”

“Hey, you’re just in the military, so you don’t know the ways of the world! That man is good at getting on the right side, the right side!”

A spark suddenly flashed in Massena’s eyes.

“This Italian battlefield is just a place to build a career before leaving again. The main battlefield isn’t here anyway, it’s the Rhine, isn’t it!”

Even without obtaining the latest military information from Paris, he can tell.

The front line of Revolutionary France, fighting against the anti-French alliance, is the Rhine River area.

The entire main force is on the Rhine.

Its scale is at least ten times that of the Italian Army.

At that moment, Berthier, who was calmly looking at Massena, said.

“General Massena, I believe you participated in the Toulon campaign.”

“What? Ah, I did. Briefly at the end.”

“Didn’t you see his command skills firsthand? Was he that terrible?”

Massena’s eyes widened at Berthier’s sudden question.

“I was in the Vendée for a while. Unfortunately, I was under Duke Biron, who passed away. What I saw in the Vendée at that time was miserable. It seemed like it would take ten years to suppress it.”

Massena decided to briefly withdraw the contempt he had felt until just now.

This middle-aged soldier is not just someone who has spent his years in the military.

He is someone who boldly displayed his skills by helping the royal family escape overseas, even after the revolution began.

He may not know the situation, but he is not a fool.

“The one who ended that place cannot be an ordinary soldier. I’ll ask again, General Massena. Is Commander Bonaparte really just a political soldier?”

Massena was also in Toulon.

He saw how the siege, which seemed like it would never end, changed in just two months.

That command was entirely due to Napoleon’s strategy rather than Dugommier’s.

At that moment, Massena gritted his teeth and shouted.

“Okay, I admit it. Bonaparte is no ordinary guy, and the young standard-bearer who came with him was also brave. Happy now? Even so!”

Nevertheless, there is a real reason why Massena despairs.

“This isn’t a battlefield of glory. The Rhine, or at least Flanders, is the battlefield of glory! This is just an abandoned place!”

In any case, the revolutionary government has no expectations for Italy.

No matter who comes, it is difficult to advance into Italy with only 45,000 men and three divisions.

Especially in a situation where supplies are not coming in properly.

At that moment, behind Massena and Berthier, a clear boy’s voice was heard.

“If you really want a battlefield of glory, you shouldn’t just sit around.”

Massena turned his gaze and widened his eyes.

“Young standard-bearer? No, when did he get here? Oh, he’s grown a bit?”

“You seem to know my face? General Massena, I am Colonel Eugene, the newly appointed adjutant to the commander. I will convey the commander’s words.”

“What?”

Now a 14-year-old boy, Colonel Eugene de Beauharnais, gave a salute and smiled coldly.

“Assemble in the drill grounds immediately. Anyone who is missing will be considered insubordinate. Whether they are division commanders or whatever.”

Napoleon has finally arrived at the Italian command.

***

Of course, not all soldiers gathered willingly.

“Damn it, I’m starving to death, why are they telling us to gather!”

Originally, the French Army of Italy, commonly known as the [Italian Legion], was based on volunteers from southern France.

However, Austria, the ruling power of the Holy Roman Empire, was also dispatching troops to northern Italy.

Therefore, volunteers alone were not enough, and large-scale conscription was implemented in southern France.

As a result, most of the soldiers here are full of complaints from the start.

Forced conscription, former royalists, and serving without pay for over two years.

Since the [Levée en Masse] National Mass Mobilization Conscription Order in 1793. (A policy of mass conscription during the French Revolution.)

However, since the food supply is not smooth, the soldiers are full of dissatisfaction.

“Ah, revolution, king, war. I wish they would just give us bread.”

“Aren’t they giving us meat? Ugh, do you know we couldn’t even eat a piece of meat during Noel [Christmas]?”

“Tell them not to give us soup or water. I heard a rat came out from between the food last time. Ugh!”

The soldiers who barely gathered are Augereau’s, Sérurier’s, and Massena’s direct subordinates.

The remaining commanders couldn’t even gather them properly.

In addition, there are troops stationed in nearby barracks rather than the command headquarters, so only about 10,000 troops gathered in the drill grounds.

However, one of the grumbling soldiers tilted his head.

“What is it?”

Cavalrymen wearing black uniforms entered.

-Clack, clack, clack!

The color of the uniforms is different, but the quality is different.

Moreover, the cavalry and the mobile supply wagons that followed are entities that have never been seen in the Italian Army.

Anyway, the reality of the Italian Legion was that it was only composed of infantry and artillery.

For a moment, distracted, the man wearing the black uniform [bicorne] at the head opened his mouth. (A two-cornered hat, commonly worn by officers.)

“Soldiers of the revolution.”

He is not very tall.

However, he is riding a horse, the general’s hat is raised high, and above all, his voice has resonance.

Everyone tensed up for a moment and swallowed hard.

Commander Napoleon Bonaparte has arrived.

Napoleon looked around at the 10,000 soldiers and said.

“You are hungry. You have nothing to wear, and the country has done nothing for you. Despite fighting with all your might in this Nice and the high mountains of the Alps.”

The soldiers blinked.

Again, it’s an unexpected statement.

It is true that the country has done nothing for them so far, but no commander has ever acknowledged that fact.

What is this commander thinking?

“However, the country is asking you to fight again.”

The soldiers burst into anger at Napoleon’s blunt words.

“Fight again!”

“What do you want us to do!”

“Tell them to give us gunpowder first!”

At that moment, soldiers in black uniforms unloaded luggage from the wagons all at once.

-Thump! Thump! Thump!

The soldiers of the Italian Legion blinked, looking at the piles of sacks.

Uniforms, rifles, military boots.

Supplies that have never been seen anywhere are suddenly piled up on the drill grounds.

Napoleon indifferently told the soldiers.

“These are uniforms, muskets, and military boots that have just been airlifted from Marseille. Gunpowder and ammunition will soon be on their way as well.”

“Uh, uh, uh?”

“This commander does not give you unrealistic orders. I will take you to battlefields where you can win, and I will tell you to fight when you can fight.”

Suddenly, the baton in Napoleon’s hand pointed to the east.

“The battlefield we must go to is the most fertile land in the world, Italy.”

It is the place where the Italian Legion has fought so far.

It’s right nearby, but they haven’t even crossed the Alps once.

However, everyone knows that the Italian peninsula is behind the Alps far beyond the horizon.

It is a very prosperous land, they have heard.

Here, Napoleon ignited the fire.

“The city of God, Rome, the city of gold, Milan, and the city of silk, Venice, await you. Passionate Italian beauties and gold and silver treasures! And wine too!”

Among the soldiers gathered in the drill grounds, only Massena has actually been to Italy.

Massena has only been around the harbor, and has never been to Rome, Milan, or Venice.

Nevertheless, he has heard rumors.

Beauties, wine, gold coins.

A desire that they have never even thought of burns in the hearts of the soldiers.

-Gulp.

At that moment, Napoleon roared at the soldiers.

“Soldiers, let’s go and fight! Let’s share the glory together!”

A cry like a lion roaring.

The soldiers raised their arms all at once.

The complaints they had been shouting until now disappeared, and shouts filled the drill grounds.

“Waaaaah!”

“Wine! Beauties! Gold!”

“Glory! Victory to the Republic!”

Even the soldiers who did not gather here will all hear the news.

Realistic supplies.

Presenting a vision of conquering Italy.

The desire for spoils of war to be gained as a result.

Napoleon breathed heavily, not even wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Looking back at his chief adjutant Eugene, who was standing next to him, Napoleon said in a low voice.

“For now, it’s done.”

“There is still no cheering for the commander.”

“I know. In the end, one more thing is needed.”

Eugene looked at the 10,000 soldiers shouting and nodded.

“Victory.”

The first veterans who would later be called Napoleon’s Imperial Guard in the original history.

It was the day the Italian Legion and Napoleon first met.