Holy Roman Empire - Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Chapter 82: Humor on the Battlefield

Translator: 549690339

If you don’t court death, you won’t die. Mahler had clearly overlooked the fact that the Tuscan Army was lacking in combat ability, and they were suppressed by the Austrian Army as soon as the battle began.

“Attack for me!”

“Damn it, get up and attack for me!”

Mahler cursed angrily. The young officers displayed great valor, but the soldiers were very Italian in their performance.

They shouted slogans loudly, but before even seeing the shadow of an enemy, they were all lying on the ground playing dead, which was infuriating.

Without a doubt, the lower-rank soldiers did not want to fight the Austrians.

Before the Anti-French War broke out, Tuscany was still a part of the Holy Roman Empire, and their ancestors had once been loyal to the Habsburg family.

Even now, Austria still had a strong influence in Tuscany; an influence that could not be eliminated in a short time. The soldiers’ feelings towards Austria were complex.

This was a tragic issue. The anti-Austrian movement in the Italian area was initiated by the bourgeoisie for their own interests.

Even if the public was deceived, they didn’t suffer personally. It was one thing to shout slogans regularly, but quite another to lay down their lives.

The ones who truly wanted to defeat Austria and unite the Italian area were the capitalists, intellectuals, and nationalists.

To speak bluntly, after being fragmented for a thousand years, everyone had grown accustomed to this kind of life.

Otherwise, in the history of 1848, Austria would not have been able to defeat the Italian countries’ Allied Forces so easily and rule over Venice and the Lombardy Region again.

“General, we have been attacked by the main force of the Austrian Army. We should ask our allies for help!” a young officer suggested.

Not everyone was out of their mind. Even if they had a temporary lapse of reason earlier, the recent fight had brought everyone back to their senses.

The Tuscan expeditionary force, from top to bottom, was incompetent. The high-ranking commanders could only strategize on paper, and the junior officers were all too immature. They might do as members of a Death Squad, but leading the troops was out of the question!

“Very well, send someone to Marshal Badoglio immediately for reinforcements and prepare the troops for a strategic retreat!” Mahler made his decision swiftly.

A great man can bend and stretch. If we can’t provoke them, can’t we at least avoid them? This has also become a tradition in Italy: if you can’t beat them, run; if you can’t run, surrender.

No one knows whether it started hundreds or even a thousand years ago, but the combat ability of the Italians has become unreliable.

On the European Continent where mercenaries were prevalent, the Italian mercenaries were acknowledged as the least combat-capable, in stark contrast to their neighbors, the Swiss.

As the Tuscan Army was taking losses, General Messe, who was responsible for the attack on Trento, also encountered trouble on the other front.

Of course, they were the aggressors, with forces several times that of the defenders, so there wasn’t a risk of annihilation. However, the possibility of capturing Trento was gone.

“General, the enemy’s firepower is too fierce. The Second Division has suffered heavy casualties, and Major General Will is requesting support!” the adjutant said solemnly.

With a “bang,” the water cup in Major General Messe’s hand went flying.

“Useless, the battle has just begun, and they have suffered heavy losses. Have they encountered the main force of the Austrians?”

No one answered his question, but it was certain that the forces opposite could not be the main forces of the Austrian army, otherwise the situation between attack and defense would have been reversed.

“General Messe, why not hold off the attack for now and launch an offensive once the artillery arrives?” Major General Manstu suggested.

In the end, unwilling to deplete his precious troops, General Messe reluctantly said, “All right, slow down the offensive, and after the artillery arrives tomorrow, we’ll launch a full-scale attack!”

Major General Will breathed a sigh of relief as he had not received reinforcements but had gotten the order to postpone the attack. Losing nearly a regiment’s worth of soldiers in one morning was a loss the second division could not sustain.

Watching his soldiers fall one after another on the charge path, Major General Will’s heart ached immensely, and he gave the order in frustration, “Command the troops to retreat!”

As the retreat horn sounded, a bizarre scene unfolded on the battlefield: one by one, the Sardinian soldiers who had fallen on the charge path feigned death.

Originally grief-stricken, Major General Will became so furious he was nearly smoking with anger. If he didn’t know what was happening by now, he didn’t deserve to be the leader of a division.

“Damn it, this bunch of bloody bastards, I’ll take them to military court!” Major General Will roared.

Major General Will couldn’t help but be angry. Thinking about the report of heavy losses that had just been submitted to the headquarters, and then watching the soldiers faking death with vigor, it was too much of a slap in the face.

After counting the casualties, Major General Will’s heart bled—not because the losses were too great, but because they were too slight.

Having attacked all morning, twenty-something dead and over seventy injured —could that really be called heavy losses? This was a division’s force, not a battalion!

The soldiers’ casualties weren’t many, but the loss of weapons and equipment wasn’t small at all.

When they ran back, the Austrian army certainly didn’t forget to shoot from behind; for safety, a lot of soldiers returned empty-handed.

A preliminary count showed that over the course of the morning, the second division had lost more than thirteen hundred rifles. If it wasn’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers, Major General Will felt like shooting those damned idiots himself.

Victories? Well, perhaps they had depleted the enemy’s ammunition and weapons. They hadn’t even come within a hundred meters of the enemy’s position—what kind of victory was that?

“General, most of these soldiers are recruited from the Lombardy region; they are a bunch of cowards. In the afternoon, if we put in our old soldiers, it certainly won’t be like this!” one officer reminded him.

Major General Will nodded in resignation. He could only hope that other soldiers would be braver. If everyone emulated the cowards from the morning, there was no point in fighting this battle.

Not only were they frustrated, but the Austrian defenders were even more upset.

Colonel Grig, who was responsible for defending the first line of defense, was very pleased watching the enemy falling one after another. He thought his soldiers had all become sharpshooters.

Little did he expect, by noon, a change occurred—the supposedly dead enemy soldiers faked death again, leaving him with an iron blue face.

He was so close. The documents for claiming victory and reporting good news had been prepared, and fortunately, he had not submitted them yet. Otherwise, he would have been punished for falsifying reports of his achievements.

Colonel Grig could not understand what the enemy was doing and could only guess privately, “Could the enemy want to deplete our ammunition? But this commander is too funny, as if Trento is short on weapons and ammunition!”

“Commander, does the enemy have some kind of conspiracy? Could it be they are trying to lure us out and then take the opportunity to strike back and seize our positions?” a young officer speculated with wild imagination..