The retreat of the Russian army immediately relieved the French troops who came from afar. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

They knew their strength best, and they also knew that the Turkish troops in the fortress were quite qualified to defend the city, but they had no ability to fight the Russian army in the field, so they had no intention of pursuing at all, and let the Russian army retreat calmly from the fortress of Silistra.

After the scout cavalry sent out to make sure that the Russian troops had withdrawn, Lucien marched with his troops all the way to the foot of the fortress.

It wasn't until they came to the fortress that Lucien and his men realized how fiercely the Russians and Turks had fought before. Under the city, the original neat trenches have been filled in with mud, abandoned weapons, and even human bodies, and most of the battlements and cannon holes of the fortress have been destroyed, fragments of masonry and stone are scattered all over the ground, many places have been stained black and red by gunpowder and blood, and corpses and stumps are everywhere, and the whole scene is like hell on earth.

At this time, it was already dusk, the sun was slanting in the west, and the dusk sun burned half of the sky red, and the whole earth seemed to be dyed with a layer of blood, and a large group of emaciated and emaciated Turkish soldiers walked through the potholed ground, gathering the remains of their comrades, and burying those Russian soldiers by the way.

It's not that they are pitiing the Russians, but in the middle of the summer weather, a large number of dead humans and horses, if left unchecked, may bring a terrible plague and add more victims to this war.

With the efforts of the convergence team, the remains of the dead Russian soldiers were piled up in a large pit formed by several remaining trenches, and these peasants, who had been recruited from distant Russian lands, were now buried in a foreign land. Bodies or mutilated bodies filled the trenches, forming gray hills. Their expressions were calm or frightened, but they had all begun to rot to varying degrees, maggots rolling around their eyes and skin, accompanied by the strong smell of blood, the scene was truly terrifying.

Looking at this bloody scene, one can imagine how fiercely the lone Turks and the Russian army fought during this time.

After seeing this scene, Lucien finally understood why the Russians lost confidence to continue the attack after seeing reinforcements appear outside the fortress, and chose to retreat in stride, thinking that they had lost a lot of troops in the months of siege, and their morale had become low, and they no longer wanted to continue to fight the British and French reinforcements here.

The commanders of the Turkish army in the fortress greeted the French officers as if they were heroes, and despite their efforts to clean up their appearances, the Turks looked disheveled and smelled of sweat and blood.

"Thank you, friend from afar!" As soon as he saw Lucien, the leader of the group, a middle-aged man with a large beard wearing a Turkish-style military cap, embraced him. "I am Khaled, the commander of this fortress, and on behalf of all of us, I thank you for saving us."

He spoke Turkish, which Lucien certainly did not understand, but judging by the enthusiasm of the other party, he could understand what the other party meant, and when the interpreter who accompanied the army translated the words into French for himself, he forced himself to resist the choking smell and hugged the other party as well.

"It is your own bravery and persistence that will save you, Commander." Lucien praised the other party in an unpretentious manner, "It is you who have resisted here for so long, who have saved this fortress and your country, and who have made great achievements, and I earnestly hope that your Sultan will be able to recognize your merits!" ”

Of course, his words are a bit exaggerated, after all, as long as there are British and French troops in place, Turkey will not face the disaster of losing its country, but these Turkish officers and soldiers have held out in the fortress for so long, delaying the pace of the Russian army for so long, and it has indeed delayed the coalition army to calmly mobilize troops for more time, and it has also made their own troops take a lot less risks.

Lucien's sincere praise made the Turks even more excited, and they were ready to celebrate their victory with great fanfare, and invited Lucien and other French officers to join in.

Considering the alliance between the two armies, Lucien did not refuse their request, but he also knew that it was not yet time to celebrate, so he asked his men not to drink excessively and return to the barracks within the allotted time.

That same night, the defenders took out all the wine and food that had been left in the cellars of the fortress, and the officers and men of the two armies celebrated their victory together.

Soon, the siege of Sillistra had been lifted, and the news that the Russians had begun to abandon their offensive and retreat reached the Anglo-French headquarters at the port of Gallipoli.

They rightfully hailed the victory, but then they immediately began to discuss what to do next.

"It's a bit disappointing that the Russians retreated like that!" The commander of the British Expeditionary Force, Baron Raglan, sighed in disappointment, "Suvorov and Kutuzov's souls in heaven will not be at ease!" ”

"Kutuzov can escape more than his current juniors, at least the current Russian army has not returned to Moscow." Field Marshal Tréville replied unceremoniously. "We still have to fight."

Because he had suffered a big loss in Russia before, he has always been angry with the Russians, so he spoke unceremoniously.

"We have defeated the Russians, at least they have retreated now, and it seems as if we have suddenly lost a reason to continue fighting them - because they have given up the attack." Baron Raglan suddenly said ambiguously, "Now we have to leave a little time for diplomacy." ”

"Why give them a breather?" Marshal Trevel was curious, "We want to fight, that's a good reason, what other reasons do we want?" Didn't you agree to continue landing strikes on the hinterland of the Russian army when they retreated? Why did you suddenly change your mind now? ”

"After all, we in Britain are a country that cannot act arbitrarily, our military operations need the support of public opinion, and continuing diplomatic activities can fully expose the ambitions of the Russians and give our people more determination to continue fighting." Baron Raglan smiled slyly, "Of course, that's not the main reason. ”

"What is the main reason?" The marshal hurriedly asked.

"I have just received news from home that the Austrians want us to give them a little time to make the most of their diplomacy." Baron Raglan replied in a low voice, "They are now putting pressure on the Russians to give them full guarantees that they will no longer act recklessly to destroy peace in Europe......"

"No wonder the Russians retreated so happily." Marshal Trevil suddenly realized. "I see."

It is conceivable that the Russians were already struggling to cope with the combined forces of Britain, France and Turkey, and when the Austrians began to put pressure on them, they would surely find it difficult to support them, which is why they withdrew their troops from the Balkans so quickly.

"Therefore, we can take advantage of the interlude of Austrian mediation to propose our terms of peace to the Russians." Baron Raglan said unhurriedly, "Of course, we will make some conditions that are unacceptable to the Tsar, so that he can choose between losing his honor and continuing to fight us, and in the meantime we can continue to calmly deploy our troops." ”

These Brits!

Marshal Tréville felt some secret admiration for the cunning of these Britons.

Obviously, because of the secret agreement between Britain, France, and Turkey, each country could not make peace with the Russians alone, but the shrewd diplomats in London obviously had too much excess energy to vent, so they were prepared to use the Austrians to communicate with the Russians, so that no matter what the outcome of the negotiations was, they would not be held responsible, and the pressure would be on the Austrians.

He was not angry, the British were indeed cunning, but France was not sincere in serving the Allies, and she was also secretly in mind, so he had no reason to blame the Englishmen, as long as they continued to cooperate with France in general.

"The Austrians will not be forgiven by the Russians, and their mediation will not help." After a moment of silence, Marshal Trever expressed his opinion, "So our military preparations must be completed as soon as possible, and we cannot give the Russians time to calmly mobilize forces. ”

"You're right, and I think so." Baron Raglan nodded, "And that's up to our efforts, Britain is now doing everything they can to increase their presence here, and although we've been in some trouble lately due to the weather and disease, I think we'll soon be able to regroup and launch the next attack, and this attack will show His Majesty the Tsar how powerful we are!" ”

"I'm glad you can be so combative." Field Marshal Tréville gestured, "We will devote all our strength to the next military operation with the same zeal." ”

Because the recent war has been quite smooth, the relationship between the British and French armies has become more and more intimate, and the mustard left over from the previous history has disappeared a lot because of the joint operation, at least the marshal and the baron have been a little more cordial when they meet, and they are no longer as tense as before.

After an amicable exchange of information, the private meeting between the two commanders ended, and Baron Raglan left the temporary house and returned to his headquarters, while Field Marshal Tréville remained here to hear reports from his officers.

As Commander-in-Chief, there are still too many things for him to take care of here.

The most important thing is, of course, the current situation of the various forces and the state of replenishment of troops.

The former is a bit of a concern, as the French troops now assembled in Gallipoli and Gallipoli have been attrition to varying degrees due to the invasion of disease, and some units have even been unable to carry out military operations because of this; The latter is a bit more optimistic, and under the vigorous organization of the imperial government, the French army is now continuing to accumulate in the east, and the number of replenishments far exceeds the number of attrition, so the strength of the French army is gradually increasing.

However, if the new arrivals are also afflicted by the same disease as the people who came before them, I am afraid that the situation will not be so optimistic.

Thinking of this, the marshal could not help but be a little worried, and ordered his adjutant to continue to report the current situation to the War Department in Paris, urging them to send more well-trained military doctors to help the expeditionary force reduce the attrition of the expeditionary force.

After months of engineering work, a telegraph line was already available from Gallipoli to the port of Toulon, an endpoint of France's vast telegraph network, which allowed information to be transmitted from the eastern end of the European continent to the western end in an instant, allowing Paris to get the information from the front line in the fastest possible time.

Under the careful notes of the adjutants, Marshal Tréville issued one order after another, which would be transmitted to the front and rear as quickly as possible, making the French army an organic whole.

By evening, when the marshal had finally finished his day's business, he was already very tired.

The voices of the adjutants in his ears seemed to be far away in the sky, vague and inaudible, and he stood up with a slight stagger, only to feel that his whole body was a little sore, and his originally almost infinite energy now seemed to have been consumed.

He walked to the window to take some breath, but it was very hot, and the hot wind on his face made him feel even more uncomfortable.

This is a foreign country, although as the commander-in-chief he enjoys the most superior treatment of the entire French army, but after all, there is still some unsuitability, in addition, the weather has been too hot recently, and in order to maintain the dignity of a marshal and the commander of an expeditionary force, he has always been well-groomed, and the marshal's outfit is put on, which also makes his body feel more difficult to adapt.

He felt a little dizzy in his head, and thought that something was buzzing in his ears, as if someone was whispering in his ear. Even though he knew that it was an auditory hallucination, the old man still couldn't help but feel sad.

The eyelids were so heavy that it seemed like it was so hard to keep them open.

"Your Excellency, are you alright?" Seeing the old man in such a decrepit appearance, the marshal's aide-de-camp, the young second lieutenant Georges de Dilliion, was shocked and hurriedly came over to support him.

This questioning was like a pebble thrown into a pond, and the old man woke up from his dream.

He calmed down and regained a little energy.

"I'm fine, don't worry." He replied calmly. "Go and tell me my orders."