Holy Roman Empire - Chapter 83

Chapter 83: Chapter 83: Survival Guide on the Battlefield

“There’s no damn conspiracy, the enemy across from us is clearly just a bunch of greenhorns, rushing in to attack and scattering in retreat—a bunch of rare specimens indeed!”

Grig made a swift judgment, if it was not for the insufficient number of troops in his hand, he really would have ordered a sortie right now, such good opportunities were rare.

“Commander, I noticed the enemy left behind quite a few weapons, why don’t we send someone to pick them up? We could even make a profit!” the young officer pondered before saying.

Grig glared at him fiercely, speaking in a tone that was frustrated with his lack of understanding: “Ambrosius, sometimes I really want to split open your head to see what’s inside, why you have so many muddled thoughts!

All you think about is making money, do you think the enemy is stupid? Why don’t you try going up and see if the enemy will take your life?

Our mission is to hold the line, what use is picking up a few broken guns?”

In this era, the treatment of military personnel in various countries wasn’t all that great, seeking fortunes primarily depended on looting and battlefield seizures.

This war was being fought on Austrian soil, looting was out of the question; no matter how crazy they were, they couldn’t just mess around on their own turf, so seizures became their main source of income.

Of course, the promise of land rewards by Franz also played an important role in motivating them to fight calmly.

In the past, obtaining land rewards mainly meant becoming nobility and receiving a fief, an exceedingly difficult achievement; apart from a few lucky ones, most people had no chance.

This time Franz made changes, the traditional enfeoffed nobility required even a Knight to have thousands of acres of land, but now regular soldiers could also obtain land for their military merits.

(1 hectare 2.5 acres = 15 mu)

However, this land wasn’t part of noble fiefs and carried no noble privileges; it was akin to the government paying military salaries and rewarding military achievements with land.

Since it wasn’t part of nobility, the threshold was naturally much lower, and it was much easier for regular soldiers to obtain land. Basically, just by fighting a battle, they could get several acres, and with good luck, even several hectares.

Ambrosius wanted to make money, mainly because he worried he wouldn’t have enough military merits and could use the money to redeem land later, after all, his aim was to become a farmer.

This was a preferential treatment for soldiers, and to restrict land monopoly, Austrian land redemption laws stipulated that the average redemption area per person couldn’t exceed 2 hectares, and rewards obtained on the battlefield were not included in this limit.

“Uncle Grig, you know I have many brothers and sisters, being a younger son I have no right to inherit the title and property, so I’m just trying to grab whatever I can!” Ambrosius said unconcernedly.

Grig said irritably, “Damn it, why don’t you try to earn a title for yourself?

I bet you that even if you were to attain the lowest, non-hereditary rank of

Baron, old John would be happier than if you made 100,000 Rheinshields!”

In this era, the main officers in European armies were basically the offspring of nobility, especially the younger sons without the right to inherit titles; they would join the army upon reaching adulthood to strive for success.

These individuals received a good education and quickly stood out in the military. The colonial movements of various European countries were spurred on by these nobles’ offspring eager to obtain titles.

Ambrosius thought for a moment and said, “I too desire a title, but with my rank, it’s just too difficult to earn the military honors required for ennoblement now.

Uncle Grig, how about we lead a raid on the enemy camp tonight? If we succeed, maybe I’ll achieve my goal!”

Grig rubbed his forehead and gave up on the idea of continuing to mentor Ambrosius, his distant nephew. Even if one were to consider a night raid, shouldn’t practical circumstances be taken into account?

He acknowledged that the enemy was dreadful; in all his years of military service, he had never seen an army fight like this, but how could one disregard their overwhelming numbers?

The enemy force opposite them comprised two divisions; he only had one regiment at his disposal, not even one-fifth the strength of his opponent—was this not tantamount to marching to their doom?

In the Sardinian Army camp, Major General Wil severely reprimanded the soldiers who had fallen on the battlefield that day and also selected a few unlucky targets to establish his authority by carrying out military justice.

The battle resumed, and perhaps it was due to the assertive display of authority, or maybe because the old soldiers of the Kingdom of Sardinia were braver, the fighting in the afternoon became much more ferocious.

Picking up his binoculars and observing the carnage, at one point there were soldiers charging the enemy’s position; Major General Wil nodded in satisfaction. This was war. If everyone acted like the fools from the morning, where would that lead?

In the camp, undercurrents were already stirring.

A soldier, covered in dirt and excitement, said, “Tom, the knowledge in the ‘Survival Guide on the Battlefield’ is really useful. See those idiots? Always strutting around arrogantly, and now they’re foolishly charging to their deaths, so satisfying to watch!”

“Of course, this was something Mr. Guerazzi spent a lot of money on, buying from an old mercenary. It’s meant to reduce our casualties on the battlefield.

Raul, be careful not to let the People of Sardinian catch on. We still need them to lay down their lives in this war! If everyone becomes smart, who will fight the Austrians?” said Tom, a middle-aged man, with caution.

“Right, let the People of Sardinian and Austrians bite each other, and once they’re both weakened from fighting, our Lombardy Republic can achieve independence!” Raul said excitedly.

Obviously, a book as sophisticated as ‘Survival Guide on the Battlefield’ wasn’t written by an old mercenary; it was something Franz had prepared specifically for the Kingdom of Sardinia.

It was based on his studies of the history of warfare in Italy, so he had marketed it to the Sardinian Army in advance. After all, it was an Italian innovation, so there was no concern about it being unsuited to the local conditions.

He even included a sixteen-word policy: If you can win, fight; if not, run; if you can’t run, surrender!

It contained most of the life-saving skills for the battlefield. For example: initiating a charge and then looking for advantageous terrain to play dead halfway through.

Choosing the right spot was crucial—you couldn’t charge too far, nor stay too close to the main camp.

The best position would offer cover to shield from random enemy fire and also consider comfort since lying down for too long could cause numb limbs.

Another example: during defense, avoid sticking your head out; just firing bullets haphazardly was fine since the chances of hitting the enemy were slim anyway. If there wasn’t a mortal grudge, there was no need to risk your life.

Franz wittily compiled thirty-six strategies, colloquially known as the

“Life-saving 36 Strategies,” all of which were lifesaving masterstrokes on the battlefield. They came with explanations, all in the most straightforward and simple language, without a hint of literary flair..