Holy Roman Empire - Chapter 232

Chapter 232: Chapter 119, Reluctant Choice

Translator: 549690339

After more than two months of hard fighting, the Allied Forces finally defeated the Greek “civilian armed forces” and secured the British Army’s first major victory since the outbreak of the Near East War.

Major General Oliver’s hanging heart also fell to the ground, and he finally had commendable battle achievements. With fewer than five thousand casualties on his side, he had killed 18,000 enemy troops and captured another 14,000; any way you looked at it, it was a resounding success.

The fact that the enemy forces were a ragtag bunch had been decisively ignored by him; as long as he continued to defeat the Montenegro Army, he would have completed all his combat missions.

A young officer reported, “General, we’ve received military orders from home: we are instructed to continue pursuing the enemy. If the Kingdom of Greek harbors these enemy forces, we are authorized to take necessary measures.”

Necessary measures? In essence, that meant finding an excuse to enter the Kingdom of Greek and to teach the Greece Government a lesson. Clearly, the London Government had become very dissatisfied with the Otto I Government and wanted to make an example of them.

“Understood,” replied Major General Oliver calmly.

He had no fondness for the Greek people; if it hadn’t been for their surprise attack, forcing the Ottomans to divert their front-line troops, they wouldn’t have lost the Battle of Sofia.

Although he shifted the blame onto others, Major General Oliver was clear in his mind that he could not shirk his responsibility for that defeat, which would follow him for the rest of his life as an indelible stain.

Now that he had the opportunity to settle scores with the Greek people, he naturally wouldn’t let this chance slip by.

There would always be an excuse, even if Otto I acted submissively. The London Government, wishing to give a lesson to this unruly junior, would still take action.

It was clearly impossible to bluff one’s way through. Since the Greece Government did not acknowledge this military expedition, the British, publicly, could not use this as a reason to do anything to them.

All of Europe was watching, and if they went too far, others would still intervene. John Bull could not yet cover the sky with one hand.

Even within the United Kingdom, there was no belief that Greece’s attack on the Ottomans posed any major problem; it was only the timing of their choice that was seen as wrong.

The Greece Government had a change of heart at the last moment and did not join the Russians’ camp, leaving room for maneuver. Clearly, Otto I’s political sense was still up to par.

At the Russian Army headquarters outside Constantinople, General Menshikov once again received a letter of reprimand from Nicholas I.

After such a long offensive and the loss of hundreds of thousands of casualties, Constantinople was still in enemy hands with no sign of falling imminently, and the St. Petersburg Government was naturally anxious.

The pressure on Menshikov greatly increased. If he could not come up with a solution, the St. Petersburg Government would replace him, and the glory of capturing Constantinople would slip through his fingers — an outcome Menshikov could not tolerate.

A middle-aged officer suggested, “Commander, you might consider the Austrians’ proposal. As long as we can capture Constantinople, the rest will be easy.”

Menshikov shook his head and said, “The Austrians’ proposal is too costly. They don’t want to capture Constantinople, but to bomb it flat with heavy artillery.

The heavy artillery they recommended, beyond being used for sieges, would afterwards only serve as coastal batteries. If we followed their suggestion and brought in a few hundred heavy guns, we’d consume thousands of tons of ammunition daily.

Let alone our inability to afford it, even if the Austrians produced at full capacity, they might not be able to meet our demand.

Spending millions of rubles worth of ammunition each day, the capture of Constantinople would require the expenditure of several hundred million, even upwards of a billion rubles. Do you think we can afford that?”

And that wasn’t the worst of it. The real problem was that even after spending all that money, Constantinople might still not fall.

The huge guns recommended by Austria were very difficult to move on the battlefield, and if the enemy managed to destroy the artillery positions, the situation would be even more dismal.

The middle-aged officer reminded him, “But, Commander, this seems to be the only somewhat viable method for breaching Constantinople.

The enemy is exceedingly stubborn, defending with the aid of fortifications. Our six-pound cannons are nothing but an itch to them, and even twelve-pound cannons can only deal with ordinary fortifications.

Without destroying these fortifications, what will we use to capture Constantinople? If we miss this opportunity, we’ll be Russia’s national sinners.”

That was precisely the most compelling argument. No matter how unreliable the method might be, it was the only one that seemed to have a chance of success.

The Tsarist Government wouldn’t consider the consequences, and neither would the public care. With the troops at the foot of Constantinople, if they failed to take the city, how could they face their ancestors?

After inspecting the camp and seeing the rapidly declining morale and hearing the agonized cries, even Menshikov, with his heart of stone, couldn’t help but waver.

He knew that things couldn’t go on like this. If they continued to fight in this manner, he estimated that the Russian Army would mutiny even before Constantinople was conquered.

Even the greyest of beasts were human, and when casualties reached a certain level, they too would collapse — a consequence Menshikov simply could not afford to bear.

In a corner of the camp, a few soldiers were conspiring in secret.

A young soldier with a grimy face said in a low tone, “Joey, is the route clear? If this continues, it won’t be long before we all fall on the battlefield.

Did you know? Just yesterday Losby was wounded by an explosion in his left leg. To avoid infection, it had to be amputated. Unable to bear the shock, he took his own life that night.”

The middle-aged soldier next to him warned, “Fukesi, don’t be like this. Leaving the route must be well planned, or else if there’s a mishap, we’ll be hanging at the main camp’s entrance!”

To kill one as a warning to a hundred and deter deserters, the Russian Army resorted to extremely cruel methods, hanging people from a pole, letting them die a slow death from exposure, thirst, and hunger…

Seeing everyone’s hopeful faces, Joey sighed and pulled out a map, pointing and explaining, “I’ve found a route, but it’s a tough one.

From here, there are guards along the way; you must avoid them and only once you enter the Balkan Mountains are you temporarily safe.

This is only the first stage of the escape; afterward, you still need to cross the Balkan Mountains to enter the Austrian-occupied area.

During this period, you won’t be able to get any supplies from the outside; you’ll have to find food in the mountains and forests. Besides being wary of venomous insects and ferocious animals, you’ll also have to worry about losing your way.

Reaching the Austrian-occupied area doesn’t mean safety either. They are our allies, but if you wander in by mistake, they won’t disarm you; most likely, you will be sent back here.

To slip through, you’ll have to pretend to be war refugees. Language is a big issue. Russian and Bulgarian are very similar, but there are still differences, and nobody knows what will happen if you’re found out.”

The middle-aged man said seriously, “We have no choice. You might not know, being in the logistics unit, but these days the casualties at the front have been disastrous; familiar faces leave here every day.

Half of our regiment is made of successive reinforcements; if we continue to stay, it won’t be long before we all die here.

Joey, whether we can escape or not, thank you.

You can rest assured we’ve already scoped out the situation. We’ll play dead during an attack and sneak away when it gets dark.

Even if we’re discovered, we can say we were knocked out by a bomb blast and got confused.”

A premeditated escape started; they were not the first group, and they wouldn’t be the last, as the grim casualties had already caused them to break down mentally.

Everyone would rather take a risk and flee, trying for an unknown life, than continue to stay here.

After all, their entire families were serfs, belonging to the property of noblemen; even if they were found out, there was no need to worry about implicating their families.

The middle-aged man asked in a low voice, “Hurry up, where’s Wallace? Why don’t I see the lad?”

Fukesi answered, “Uncle Mal, we didn’t see him follow, I’m afraid something has happened. Should we go back and look for him?”

The middle-aged man thought for a moment and said, “Never mind him. On the battlefield, life and death are fated. In this pitch darkness, where would we even start looking?

Now let’s move quickly; it’s not safe here. If we can’t make it through swiftly, none of us will escape by dawn.”

They were lucky, having been given a map of the route; they did not go the wrong way and safely made it through the first day of escape.

But not everyone was so fortunate; shortly after they left, another group of deserters were unlucky enough to encounter a patrol and, of course, were caught.

The military judge asked, “Your Excellency, Commander, seven more deserters were caught last night. Shall we proceed as usual?”

“Hmm!”

Though Menshikov seemed to casually say just one word, his heart was not at rest.

The number of deserters was growing, and as a high-ranking officer who was not a fool, he knew what this meant—the troops were reaching their breaking point.

Faced with reality, Menshikov quickly compromised. He was not ready to become a traitor to his country, so the war had to go on.

As for the money issue, he would let the Tsarist Government worry about that; right now, no one could back down.

Menshikov said, “Someone, use the Austrian telegraph network and send this telegram to the St. Petersburg Government!”

Since Austria took over the Two Principalities of the Danube, the telegraph lines were quickly laid out, and by the end of 1853, they had connected with the domestic network.

At this time, for messages that the Russians didn’t need to keep especially confidential, they often used the Austrian telegraph network, which could get the job done in two to three days.

To use their own communication network, they first had to travel to big cities in Poland or Ukraine to send a telegram. Without ten days to half a month, it was impossible to get the message back to St. Petersburg.

Clearly, Menshikov did not think this battle plan needed to be kept secret from the Austrians. And even if he wanted to, it was impossible—the canons still had to be purchased from them.

Menshikov was not prepared to rely on domestic military enterprises for supplies. By the time they produced the cannons and delivered them to the front, who knew if it would be a year or two years later?

In the matter of attacking Constantinople, Nicholas I fully supported his work. Anyone causing trouble here was opposing His Majesty the Tsarist.

Without the Tsar’s support, Menshikov would not have been able to change the logistical transport system of the Russian Army in the Balkan Peninsula. If it had not been changed, life would not have been so easy for the Russian forces at the front.

The ball was now in St. Petersburg’s court. Menshikov had explained all the situations in detail—how to choose was now up to Nicholas I to decide.