I Became A Hidden Powerhouse Of The British Empire [EN]: Chapter 231

< The Age of War (3) >

Like most nations, there’s rarely harmony between a navy and an army, each showing consideration for the other. They’re usually at each other’s throats.

This was especially true in the British Empire, where the navy held a distinctly higher status than the army.

However, the army’s role in this war was undeniably crucial, as important as the navy’s.

Though only a third the size of the French army, they were the ones facing the Russian army in direct, bloody combat.

Given this, it was natural for Nightingale to side with the army.

Indeed, the army was where the highest risk of death lay, not only from battle wounds but also from rampant disease.

If she’d joined the navy, I could easily monitor her activities, but the different chain of command made that impossible.

Regardless, thanks to her remarkable success in quelling the cholera outbreak that erupted upon their arrival in Gallipoli, Marshal Fitzroy wore a beaming smile throughout the meeting.

He was so pleased that he simply laughed and brushed aside Admiral Parker’s subtle jabs.

Well, I understand his reaction.

In the past, a cholera outbreak in a military unit was a descent into hell.

In severe cases, cholera’s destructive power was so great that it could force a retreat.

She contained it with only a dozen patients; naturally, he’d be ecstatic.

He could easily overlook a few blown-off doors.

Still, I warned him that this could happen again.

Fortunately, Marshal Fitzroy listened attentively, likely because my medical staff already had a strong reputation before the war.

“I will turn a blind eye to post-reporting on the removal of medical supplies after taking preliminary measures. Formally approving it is impossible.”

“That’s enough. Oh, and…”

Knowing how many wounded Nightingale would save in this war, I had to actively support her more than anyone.

This was a war I was personally invested in, not just an observer.

It was crucial to secure an overwhelming victory that would galvanize all British Empire citizens, not just a marginal win.

To achieve that, the death toll had to be significantly lower than other countries’.

No matter how much we pressured Russia, 100,000 casualties would inevitably spark discontent.

We couldn’t afford a victory marred by the sacrifices and blood of our people.

If there was a way to reduce the suffering of our soldiers, we had to explore it.

After reaching an agreement with Marshal Fitzroy, I summoned John Snow and Nightingale before departing Gallipoli.

But why was there an uninvited guest?

“Your Highness! What an honor to see you in Gallipoli! Thank you for summoning me!”

“To be precise, I didn’t summon you, but it’s good to see you.”

“His Excellency the Marshal has assigned a dedicated person to oversee the medical staff, and I have been chosen for this glorious task.”

In reality, it was a position to manage the medical staff in the rear, but even that seemed like bliss to our love-struck Robert.

Logically, no general would send the heir to the Marquess of Salisbury and a rising political star, likely to become the future Prime Minister of the Conservative Party, to a dangerous location.

If something happened to him, you’d risk incurring the wrath of that family for life. Who would want that?

Besides, Robert seemed almost deliriously happy with his assignment, so in a way, it was a win-win situation for everyone.

“…Um, Nightingale. Are you comfortable with this arrangement?”

Of course, I didn’t know what she thought, but she glanced at Robert, who was beaming, and shook her head.

“It’s fine. They’re taking good care of me, ensuring I have everything I need.”

“Well… that’s a relief.”

“Your Highness! Don’t worry! If Miss Nightingale needs anything, I’ll break down any iron door!”

“No, Marshal Fitzroy has already authorized the removal of supplies. From now on, leave the locks and doors alone and just take what you need.”

Even for the Saintess of the Lamp, being known as the Saintess of the Hammer might be a bit much, right?

“Did Your Highness personally intervene?”

“It’s only natural to empower those who deliver results. And I emphasized your earlier points to Marshal Fitzroy, so permission will be granted soon.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Even before the war, Nightingale’s primary focus was improving military hygiene.

Using my access to data on military unit deaths, she quickly identified poor hygiene as the leading cause of soldier mortality.

With the cholera outbreak contained, her credibility within the military had soared, making it easier to implement her recommendations.

Once the Marshal’s permission was granted, changes would begin immediately.

“But I heard the budget was tight. Has that been resolved? I sent a request for government support, but…”

“Marshal Fitzroy mentioned that as well. So, I told them I’d cover the expenses, so don’t worry. It’s an investment in saving soldiers’ lives. How could a member of the royal family be stingy?”

I’d already telegraphed the story to newspapers back home, ensuring a prominent article would soon appear in London.

A Crown Prince witnessing the dire state of military hygiene on the battlefield and proactively adopting medical staff recommendations to improve ward health at his own expense? That’s a headline I couldn’t resist.

The money spent on improving the hospital was a small price to pay.

“You know what I expect from you, right? To provide the best possible medical environment so that factors other than combat don’t claim the lives of our British Empire soldiers. To that end, I’ll provide as much funding as needed and leverage my influence and reputation. Please, deliver tangible results.”

“I understand. Thank you for your faith in me.”

“I will also do my best to assist Miss Nightingale and Professor John Snow!”

Excellent. I had no doubt they would save countless lives.

Unlike in the original timeline, the optimal environment was being established even before the full-scale battle began, so the death toll would be significantly lower, right?

Then, only one thing remained.

Winning the actual battles.

* * *

The head of the Greek Legion, Constantine Zervas, sighed as he watched his subordinates revel in the news of their successive victories.

Originally, the Greek support group was an army formed in the Principality of the Danube with Russia’s approval.

However, this coincided with King Otto’s policy of reclaiming Greece’s ancient territories, leading to its incorporation into the Greek regular army.

Initially around 800 strong, it had grown to nearly 2,000, forming a legitimate military unit.

But how disciplined could a unit be that had never fought a real battle and had only experienced effortless victories?

“What was today’s target? Was it Macedonia?”

“Macedonia is freezing. Do you even know where Macedonia is? Our goal is to recapture Thessaloniki.”

“Ah. That’s right, that’s right.”

These ignorant fools couldn’t even read a map.

I was anxious about entrusting company command to such people.

Moreover, the fact that some companies lacked commanders highlighted the army’s disorganization.

The problem was that this barely-an-army continued to win.

The Ottomans were concentrating their forces on the Russian front, and local cities, hearing of the Greek army’s approach, welcomed them with uprisings and riots.

As a result, a bizarre phenomenon occurred: firing guns in time with the cheering and launching a few cannons was enough to open the gates.

Familiarity breeds contempt.

Initially, they had trembled at the thought of facing the Ottoman army, but now they treated them with disdain.

Some even mistakenly believed they were as strong as the Russian army due to their continuous victories.

However, an army without substance would inevitably be exposed.

Still, Zervas, the remaining battalion commander, wondered if it was time to retreat, but the higher-ups disagreed.

“Don’t withdraw until you occupy Thessaloniki and seize all of Crete… Are you insane? Are you confident you can handle the consequences?”

“Battalion Commander! What consequences? The Ottoman guys are too scared to do anything.”

“No… that’s not what I mean. Ugh, you crazy people. I don’t know. A soldier follows orders.”

Even so, the king was still the king, right?

He must have access to more information than I did, so there must be a rational reason for his orders, right?

I thought it was crazy until now, but following the king’s orders had led to continuous victories.

When I thought about it, was it really true?

Logically, unless the king was an idiot, he must have calculated that the Greek army could handle the war.

The very next day, the Greek army ambitiously began its march.

The Royal Navy of the British Empire appeared off the Balkan Peninsula.

And King Otto, who had high expectations and hoped for some kind of plan, was, of course,

Completely unprepared.

“Your Majesty! British warships have entered the sea off Piraeus!”

“What were our defense forces doing! The enemy’s warships are right in front of the capital!”

Piraeus had been the port of Athens since ancient times.

In other words, British warships arriving there was equivalent to holding a knife to their throats.

“Your Majesty! The Royal Navy of Great Britain has the strongest fleet in the world. How can we stop them!”

“Well, couldn’t we operate the coastal batteries! Immediately fire the cannons and drive them away!”

“…Are you suggesting we fire first at British ships?”

“Then are you suggesting we let them camp out in front of our sea?”

Having already declared war on the Ottomans by siding with Russia, it was practically declaring war on Britain, an Ottoman ally.

Wasn’t it obvious that if we didn’t shoot first, they would start shelling?

“Immediately recall the troops stationed in the north! What are those useless freeloaders doing while the British are attacking!”

I told you to occupy Thessaloniki, you idiot!

Leaving behind the shouting king, the chairman of the council asked the councilors behind him.

“I think we’re… screwed. What should we do?”

Of course, no answer came.

And sometimes silence is a more definitive affirmation than anything else.

The council members began to seriously consider writing a sincere letter of apology.

“Russia! Request reinforcements from Russia! We’re fighting a bloody battle with the Royal Navy at their request, but what are they doing!”

Let’s just ignore the king’s words…

Eighteen years since independence from the Ottomans.

The Kingdom of Greece faced its worst crisis.