One thousand against ten thousand, one is ten, and it is a real warrior.

One thousand to one hundred thousand, one is a hundred, and eight hundred is also.

A thousand against a million, a ride is a thousand.

After many days of travel, their food bottomed out. As for the reason, it is one thing to have a long time, and it is another thing to deliberately delay or do things unfavorably.

In short, during the high-intensity march, the food supply of the Italian coalition army was in a state of shortage or shortage for a long time.

Wherever a group of hungry men passed, it was inevitable that there would be a lot of resentment, especially in the areas that had been under Austrian rule.

But because of this, the leaders of the coalition forces were given a very good excuse - to collaborate with the enemy and betray the country.

As a result, the rebels who participated in the jihad had not even reached Austria to the point where everyone shouted and beat them like rats crossing the street.

The long march was boring and tedious, and the Coalition soldiers at this time had long since lost their excitement, and most of them looked listless due to fatigue and hunger.

As the leader of the army, Pollar was naturally unhappy to see the soldiers all look like this.

At this time, some old officers who were good at observing words and expressions came over.

"Mr. Pollard, what bothered you?"

"Knowingly asked! Something to say! There's a fart! ”

The former small shopkeeper already has a bit of the prestige of a general at this time.

However, these old officers in Central Italy have long been accustomed to being inferior, so they still said to Pollard with a smile on their faces.

"Your Excellency, Marshal, we have a way to make these slackers grow their spirits."

"What a way! Say it! Pollard asked impatiently, not wanting to disgrace him by the listless soldiers.

"This." The officer handed over a horsewhip.

Pollard shook his hands and pointed at the officer's face, causing him to retreat in fright.

With a flick of his hand, Pollard threw the whip to the officer and smiled.

"Hehe, it's kind of interesting. Let's get to work! ”

The officer cautiously took the whip and asked after a moment's thought.

"What do you mean?"

This officer also has his own careful thoughts, and he doesn't want to carry the black pot when he doesn't know the character of the other party.

As for whipping soldiers, he's not a sadist, and who would want to do such a thing if it weren't good.

"Let them grow their spirits."

Pollar said casually.

Several officers looked at each other, and it seemed that the other party did not want to carry this black cauldron, and they did not even have the benefits of verbal promises.

But they are helpless to be stronger than others, they can only work obediently, and they can't show dissatisfaction.

So they vented their grievances on the soldiers, and it was such an army that was full of negative emotions that was suddenly attacked by the Belening Division.

True, the side with only a thousand people launched an active attack

In fact, the main reason was that Brenine didn't know how many coalition forces there were in the valley, but he knew very well that the vanguard of the other side was defenseless.

At first, the Bellens thought it would be a tough battle, but when the shots rang out, the battlefield turned one-sided.

The tired team was startled by the sudden sound of gunfire, and they looked blankly at their companions lying in pools of blood, somewhat bewildered.

At this moment, the frightened war horse raised its hooves high and let out a neigh, and an officer fell off his horse and shouted, "Enemy attack!" There is an ambush! ”

As soon as these words came out, the crowd immediately exploded.

Obviously, only a few people fell, but the impact was like dozens of shells hitting at the same time.

"Run! The Austrian army is coming! ”

"It's a trap!"

"Help!"

"God forbid!"

"Call the priest! Let them protect us"

The chaotic crowd was undisciplined, more like a brawl than a war, and they were met by the patrolmen.

Blening and his men didn't know what was happening, but it seemed as if they had won, and they even launched a charge.

The follow-up units of the Italian coalition were scattered by their own men before they could meet the enemy, and rumors appeared that the main forces of the Austrians had arrived.

Bolard's horsewhip could not stop the rout, so he simply fled with him.

This farce was repeated over the next few days, when Major Belling and his troops repeatedly defeated the Italian coalition, which claimed to be one million, but was actually around 250,000.

This convinced Pollard that the commander of the other side was Archduke Albrecht, and that the battle was so difficult because there were at least 100,000 Austrian troops stationed in that small fortress.

In fact, the tactical literacy of both sides is not very good, the battle is very boring, and there are almost no bright spots.

Major Brening and others did not know how many there were on the other side, but simply hid behind the fortress and fired at the enemy with rifles and cannons.

As for the exhausted soldiers on the side of the Italian coalition, they just wanted to go home, and the officers were not subordinate to each other, and everyone wanted to preserve their strength.

As a result, the fighting took place almost 300 meters away, and the Austrian side still hid behind cover.

At this distance, not to mention the smoothbore guns commonly installed in the army at this time, even modern assault rifles cannot do a hundred shots against targets with cover.

(In fact, assault rifles in modern warfare have a hit rate of less than 1% at a distance of 300 meters.) ）

In the first three days of fighting, the total number of casualties on both sides did not exceed four figures, and on the fourth day, Pollard, as the commander-in-chief, sent his own cronies to fight in earnest.

However, whether it is Pollard or his cronies, they are actually not much different from those before them, and they are more involved in war and drama than war.

But even so, on the sixth day, Major Brening found that the cannonballs in the fortress had been exhausted, and there was not much gunpowder left.

As reinforcements were delayed, deserters began to appear, and the wounded soldiers drank all the wine in the fortress.

In order not to be affected by the moans of pain, Brening had to find someone to send them out, but most of the soldiers who gave them away would not return.

The rest of the soldiers were complaining about why reinforcements hadn't arrived yet, and they were also thinking about a question.

How many people are there on the other side?

Because the other party dialed and dialed away, and after so many days, there was no duplicate.

At this point, Brenine did not want to withdraw, he was not an aristocrat, nor was he a nationalist, nor was he an Austrian.

But he didn't want to withdraw, because he was a soldier, and the only identity that belonged to him, whether it was a nobleman's status or something else, it was someone else's.

Only the identity of a soldier was chosen by himself, but at this time he did not have much hope for reinforcements.

Major Brening said as he looked like the actors on stage.

"Soldiers, you have done your best, and I now allow you to withdraw to the rear with your weapons."

The soldiers looked at the stumbling major with some helplessness, this commander did not have any bad habits of deducting military pay or beating soldiers except for slamming the door and liking to put up the stinky shelves of the elders.

(End of chapter)