Holy Roman Empire - Chapter 191
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Chapter 191: Chapter 78: On Which Bureaucracy Has the Strongest Techniques
Translator: 549690339
The flames of war reignited on the Balkan Peninsula, and this grand battle was the largest in the history of the European Continent, with total forces exceeding one million deployed across a front more than four hundred kilometers long.
The campaign destined to make history unfolded in an almost comedic manner. Logically, the Allied Forces, being ill-prepared, should have been at a serious disadvantage, and as the initiators of the battle, the Russians should have easily locked in victory.
The reality was tragically absurd. As the aggressors, the Russian Army also descended into chaos.
Artillery Battalion Commander Preston cursed, “Damn it, we’re an artillery unit, and you’ve delivered a bunch of bullets to me. Are you suggesting I feed bullets to the cannons?”
The officer responsible for transport replied robotically, “I apologize, Colonel. This is the order from above. If you have any issues, please contact the command. Now, if you’d be so kind as to sign for the supplies.”
Preston’s Artillery Battalion had just arrived; the infantry battalion previously stationed here had already advanced forward, but the logistical department was still distributing supplies according to the original plan.
Preston frowned and answered, “We have reported this to the higher-ups, Major. Right now, these supplies are of no use to us at all. You’d better take them back!”
The Major replied seriously, “I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir. My orders are to deliver these supplies here to the garrison forces. Please sign for them.
As for what to do with these supplies, you’ll have to decide for yourself. You can deal with them privately or find a place to dump them. After the battle, just report them as combat losses.
These supplies are enough to sustain an infantry battalion for the next week, and there are a lot of good things inside. You won’t be at a loss, Colonel.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Preston still affixed his signature. After all, an opportunity for easy money should not be missed.
In any case, the artillery was the darling of the command, not like those worthless grey beasts. With a report, their supplies would still come through.
This time, the main forces of the Russian Army split into two, with Fitzroy Somerset leading four infantry divisions, two artillery battalions, and one cavalry regiment, totaling over seventy-three thousand men, to launch an attack on the Sofia Region.
The battlefield was ever-changing, with frequent troop movements, and the logistics system couldn’t keep up. Unlike the last battle, which took place in the Danube Basin where resupplying was easy and mistakes could quickly be corrected,
now it was different. The front had moved forward two hundred kilometers, and the transportation of logistics took several days, and without telegraphs, only messengers could deliver notices, causing the military supply section to receive delayed information.
That’s when the rigid bureaucratic system of Russia proved its effectiveness. The officers transporting logistics had to deliver the supplies to the designated locations.
Even if the original units were gone, they still had to transfer the supplies. The incident where Colonel Preston’s artillery received infantry supplies was not an isolated one.
Fitzroy Somerset was a competent general who had to handle such matters. How could he fight without resolving logistics problems?
“Order the logistics department to increase the frontline units’ supply to one month. From now on, supplies should not be delivered to a fixed location but must be handed over directly to the units involved.
Sub-divisional units should no longer transport supplies individually; they should all be delivered to the division headquarters for centralized distribution. The artillery battalions and cavalry regiments will receive supplies directly from headquarters.”
A middle-aged officer reminded, “Chief of Staff, sir, this goes against the regulations and could lead to…”
Fitzroy Somerset shook his head and said, “Don’t worry, I will explain the situation to the home front. Now, send someone to contact Commander Menshikov; I believe he is facing the same problem.”
By changing the logistics supply model, the Russian Army’s logistical chaos was somewhat mitigated. Of course, the supplies lost in transit were never to be found again and were simply written off as combat losses.
The Sofia Campaign kicked off, with the Russian Army only thirty kilometers from Sofia, and both sides had begun to exchange fire.
At the Allied Command in Sofia, Montes asked, “Have we clarified the enemy’s strength?”
“Commander, sir, we have clarified it. The Russians have deployed 4 infantry divisions, 2 artillery battalions, and 1 cavalry regiment, totaling 73,000 troops.
In addition, there are about 20,000 Bulgarian guerrillas. However, it seems they have had a disagreement with the Russians and are not acting in concert.”
An Ottoman officer replied. Scouting the enemy was naturally the job for these sly serpents. If they sent out British soldiers, they wouldn’t know how to return with language barriers and getting lost.
Montes responded calmly, “Our reinforcements will arrive tomorrow night. Order our troops not to engage with the enemy too eagerly, leaving only a few units to slow down the enemy’s advance.
Besides a few critical positions that must be defended, the rest should fall back. We will face the enemy in a decisive battle once the reinforcements have arrived.”
Montes had no choice but to remain calm. He was one of the few “veterans” in the British Army, having commanded a battalion and suppressed a hundred-strong colonial rebellion.
What could be done, considering the Great Britain Empire enjoyed peace and prosperity for the last decade or so? Without major wars, the British Army had no more to do than suppress Irish rioters and bully the indigenous people of the colonies.
The largest battles they saw remained at the battalion level. High-ranking officers like Montes, who had actual combat experience, were rare, which is why he was catapulted to the position of commander of the British Expeditionary Force.
Lacking experience was no excuse not to learn. Montes was doing just fine now, following the military texts to the letter. If he wasn’t getting the better deal, at least he wasn’t suffering significant losses.
Dusk
Within a camp, soldiers gathered in small groups to look up at the starry sky.
A man with a Genoese accent asked, “Arturo, what do you think they brought us from Sardinia to the Balkan Peninsula to fight the Russians for?”
Arturo said nonchalantly, “Didn’t those lords tell us? They say we’re fighting the Russians for revenge. I heard that during the last war in Ausa, the Russians supported Austria, and they are still allies now.
Ahongzo, why are you asking such questions? We’re all here to scrape by. If we could find jobs back home, who would come here to suffer?”
“No reason, just asking. I always feel like there’s something off about this. Sending us to the Balkan Peninsula to fight the Russians for no apparent reason doesn’t make any sense.
Even if it’s about vengeance, it’s the nobility and capitalists who need revenge, not us poor sods. Why should we come all the way here?” Ahongzo shook his head.
Despite their doubts, they were uneducated and couldn’t think too deeply. They had all joined the army just to make a living.
“What are you guys chatting about? Hurry up and get tomorrow’s food rations; if you miss the time, you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
A familiar voice came, and the two stopped their conversation and ran as fast as they could to join the queue for supplies.
After collecting the food, Ahongzo’s face turned sour, and he complained, “Damn those Brits, do they really enjoy eating salted beef and hardtack so much?
They don’t even offer a piece of bread; it’s downright inhumane. They’re deliberately mistreating us; these supplies are probably even worse than what the Ottomans get!”
In this war, the cost of the Sardinian Army was borne by the British, and logistical support naturally came from them as well.
It wasn’t exactly deliberate mistreatment; the British soldiers’ rations were the same as theirs. It was a uniform standard of 2 pounds of salted beef and three hard biscuits per person per day, and that was it. (1 pound is equal to 0.4536 kilograms)
Don’t even talk about vegetables and fruits; there wasn’t even any brown bread. The British didn’t do this to cut costs; beef is not cheap, and switching to brown bread would be much more economical.
The cause of this tragedy was—the bureaucratic system. The bureaucrats at the UK military supply section believed salted, dried beef was easy to transport, and with a slap on their backsides, decided that it would be the main supply for the British during the war.
At first glance, having beef every day doesn’t sound too bad. But if it’s dried beef every single day, the experience isn’t quite so pleasant; the first test is whether your teeth can handle it.
The beef wasn’t only hard; the issued biscuits were even harder; these might have been the earliest version of hardtack. If you didn’t soak them in water first, you would need teeth of steel to bite into them.
For Italians who pursued delicious flavors, these foods were a complete disaster.
Even if the Kingdom of Sardinia was poor, their army never skimped on the food expenses, and the quality of their food was much higher than that of the British.
“Stop complaining, Ahongzo; if the Ottomans knew about this, they wouldn’t mind trading with you. Would you really want to switch with them?” Arturo said with a chuckle.
Happiness is relative; at most, the food provided by the British was unpalatable, but at least one didn’t have to worry about going hungry.
These pieces of dried beef could be further processed; if there were the means, one could get some vegetables to boil together with them, without even needing to add salt.
The supplies of the Ottoman Army, on the other hand, were truly woeful, with some even required to bring their own provisions into battle. Getting enough food to be three-quarters full was considered having a good time.
Due to the common practice of corrupt officials taking their cut from soldiers’ rations, the Ottomans had also developed the habit of shortchanging, according to regulations. If a unit didn’t have any shortages, then prepare for the whole army to go hungry.
Ahongzo shook his head and said, “Forget I said anything, but those British logistics officers really should be shot. I bet that more soldiers died from their mistreatment than on the battlefield.”
Arturo laughed and said, “I don’t know about that. Maybe the Brits have different stomachs than ours, and they can withstand it.
Let’s not talk about this anymore. Remember, during the day, you picked some vegetables, and I still have two potatoes. We’ll mix them with the dried beef tomorrow and stew it; we’ll just have to make do!”
The two looked at each other and smiled. Even if the logistics were poor, the Italians could still utilize their talents to improve their meals as much as possible within their limited resources.
In this regard, the Sardinian Army did contribute. Their arrival directly improved the living standards of the British soldiers and reduced the number of cases of scurvy among them.
The British soldiers who traveled with them quickly learned these valuable skills and spread them as quickly as possible. Before, they used to plunder only wealth and goods, which was a complete waste.
Now everyone has become adept, the crops in the fields, the cattle and sheep on the hillsides, could all be turned into spoils of war. Many soldiers even learned to cure food, using every condition to store provisions.
As a result, the direct consequence was that the marching speed was greatly reduced, and military discipline became even more lax. With the Sardinian Army, these old hands around, no matter what the officers commanded, they did as they pleased.
There’s safety in numbers, facing a group of soldiers who stood on the principle of unity, the officers did not dare to handle them harshly.
It even led the British astray, everyone discovered the power of solidarity. As long as they were united, the officers did not dare touch them.
In the end, the arrival time in Sofia was a full two days later than Montes had predicted. On this battlefield where time is life, two days were enough to change things.
The most direct outcome was that the Russian Army had already pressed forward, and due to insufficient forces, Montes did not dare to assign too many troops to defend the surrounding strongholds, which were now nearly all lost.
With the delay of the reinforcements’ arrival, the Allied Forces had already lost the best opportunity to attack, intending to launch a counter-offensive while the Russian Army was not yet stable; now it was already too late.
Montes roared furiously, “You bunch of incompetents, to actually delay two days for such a short distance, were you on an excursion on the way? Do you not know what military law is?”
Major General Mantuya of the Sardinian Army lied through his teeth, “Commander, Your Excellency, we were ambushed by guerrilla teams on the way, which caused dozens of casualties. We delayed to exterminate the guerrillas.”
No one was a fool; to avoid military discipline, everyone expressed that they indeed encountered guerrilla attacks, and the wounded were proof.
“The guerrillas are so rampant that despite so many troops, they dared to ambush you?” Montes asked, puzzled.
Mantuya quickly came up with an answer, “Commander, Your Excellency, the guerrillas are extremely cunning. They do not confront us head-on but sneak attacks from the shadows.
“They dig traps on the road, shoot cold arrows at night, and are very difficult to deal with; their numbers are not small either. To prevent these people from cutting off our army’s rear, we eradicated them.”
He wasn’t just making this up; indeed, soldiers had fallen into traps, but it was while they were searching for game in the mountains that they accidentally fell in. The cold arrow incidents were real too, but they happened when encountering Ottoman hunters in the mountains.
Montes had never before come across such a high-caliber individual who could lie without batting an eye. British officers were relatively honest compared to Italian officers—it was a completely different concept.
Mantuya had not done this for the first time; when he had been with Marshal Badoglio, they had collectively deceived their country before; now duping the inexperienced Montes was a breeze.
Montes snorted coldly, “Hmph!”
Then he berated, “Even so, you should not have delayed for such a long time. Couldn’t you leave behind a small force to suppress the guerrillas and bring the main force over promptly?
“Do you realize how much your delay has cost our army, and we even missed the best opportunity to counter-attack!”
However, at this moment, he didn’t mention military law, and everyone couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Mantuya also didn’t continue to argue; what was there to fear from getting scolded? It wasn’t going to cost him a piece of flesh.
After the failure of the Ausa War, there were not many Sardinian generals who managed to keep their titles, and Mantuya was one of them, not because he was good at fighting—in fact, his military capability was very limited.
His greatest talent was his eloquence, his ability to read people, to place all the blame on others, and to quickly align with the King and gain his trust, thus securing the chance for a comeback.
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