Chapter 221: Victory over the Many with the Few

Chapter 222: Winning with fewer troops

When the Albanian commander Semiz saw the French infantry line move, and then looked at the messy infantry group on his side, his face suddenly turned pale.

What are the cavalry doing? ! He raised his telescope angrily and looked at the north side of the battlefield, and saw hundreds of Albanian cavalry charging at the thin French infantry.

And the French stood in place like a reef and launched a round of volleys. The twenty or thirty cavalrymen in the front row immediately rolled to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

Then, there was a faint sound of cannon. Semiz didn't find where the cannon was, but saw something like an arm with half a shoulder flying into the air in a puff of blood.

Because the Albanian cavalry didn't form a formation at all, the attack team was sparsely dragged for more than 200 meters. The cavalry who were a little further away from the French army were obviously frightened by the sound of the cannon and the screams of their own people, and immediately turned their horses and fled to both sides.

Semiz saw some dead horses rushing into the French flank defense line under inertia, causing some chaos. Some cavalrymen who failed to control their horses also rushed up, but were immediately stabbed to death by French infantry with bayonets.

But no more cavalry followed behind, and the French line quickly closed again.

Semiz cursed in a low voice: "These cowardly Albanians! If they rush forward another 50 steps, the main force of the French army will have to retreat to support the right wing!"

But morale involves too many factors. Once it collapses, it is extremely difficult to recover unless it can withdraw from the battlefield for repairs.

Then, the French cavalry completed the formation and rushed over from the gentle slope on the north side.

Seeing this, the Albanian cavalry fled faster. The four-pound cannon was replaced with solid bullets, which kept bombarding behind them, smashing out pieces of sweet blood mist.

On the front of the battlefield, the infantry line of the Guards Corps was still advancing steadily. The nearly 1,000-meter-long front line almost remained in a straight line, exuding an unstoppable and captivating pressure.

At this time, the left wing of the Albanians was left with only a pile of broken meat and blood under dozens of rounds of fierce bombardment by the French artillery, and a huge gap had already formed.

A skirmisher company of the Guards Corps walked out of the queue. After checking the weapons according to the drill manual, three drummers beat the military drums and walked forward with their heads held high.

Hundreds of soldiers immediately followed in sparse formations.

Lefebvre on the right wing commanded his men to follow the enemy cavalry and fired two rounds of volleys. He found that the enemy had run far away and he could not catch up at all. He turned around and saw that a general attack had been launched on the front.

He immediately ordered the formation to be reorganized, and after asking his battalion commander for instructions, he led his skirmisher company into the frontal battle.

The soldiers on the Albanian side looked at the approaching French army in horror. They had no time to line up and began to shoot at the opposite side in panic.

However, with the accuracy of the flintlock, if you don't use dense volleys, you can only rely on faith to hit the target.

The infantry line of the Guards Corps kept approaching the enemy until it was 70 steps away, and then stopped at the command of the officers and quickly sorted out the queue.

Immediately, the company commanders of each company gave the order in unison: "Ready!"

"Aim!"

"Shoot!"

The infantry line immediately burst into neat fire, and nearly a thousand bullets drilled into the formation of the Albanian mercenaries.

"Reload! The second row, step forward three steps!"

"Ready!"

"Aim..."

The narrow and long line of the Guards Corps was like a precision-operated machine. A row of soldiers took three steps forward, fired a round of volleys, and then reloaded on the spot.

The row of soldiers behind them immediately stepped forward, fired another volley, and reloaded.

The soldiers behind stepped forward again...

In this way, under the pressure of dense firepower, the infantry line quickly approached the mercenaries within 50 steps.

The terrible power of the percussion cap gun was fully demonstrated-each time the infantry line fired a volley, it could take away the heads of nearly a hundred mercenaries.

The huge casualties caused the Albanian army to continue to flee in front of the soldiers, and the unformed line suddenly became more bumpy.

The most tenacious few centurions were still resisting on the spot, while most of the soldiers began to retreat under the pressure of bullets, and some others had already run to the rear and were pulling with the supervisory team.

The entire formation has completely turned into a rag spread on the Atlas Mountains.

In the gap on the left wing of the Albanian army, a French skirmisher company spread out more than 40 meters wide, crouched and slowly approached forward, and stopped from time to time to fire cold shots.

Just when they had advanced thirty or forty steps, a rough laugh came from behind: "Anatole, you are too dogmatic. There are no enemies on the opposite side, we should get in as quickly as possible!"

The captain named Anatole turned his head and saw Lefebvre's skirmisher company lined up in five columns, passing by him quickly and heading straight for the Albanian position.

"You... We are skirmishers..."

Lefebvre left a sentence: "The only creed of skirmishers is flexibility, goodbye!"

Anatole watched Lefebvre's men rush in from behind and plunge into the gap in the enemy's formation. He stood up and shouted to his company: "Gather into a column! Quick attack!"

Lefebvre's company was almost in the face of the Albanians, and then he ordered them to deploy on the spot. During this period, more than a dozen fierce mercenaries rushed over with spears in hand. The second lieutenant in charge of covering led a battalion to shoot down several people, and then separated them with bayonets.

Two minutes later, Lefebvre's company had formed an uneven line.

"aim!"

"shooting!"

Following Lefebvre's loud orders, more than 30 percussion cap guns fired a volley.

The seven or eight Albanian mercenaries who were closer suddenly seemed to have been hit by an invisible fist, and they fell back with a groan. Several other people turned around and fled in a hurry.

Lefebvre commanded his company to advance dozens of meters deeper into the enemy, and then ordered the line to turn to the south, which was the left edge of the Albanian position, and began to fire and compress inward.

At this time, Anatole's company also followed, forming a line behind him to join the battle.

The Albanian army, which was on the verge of collapse on the frontal battlefield, immediately worsened. The nearly 10,000 mercenaries were beaten by the 3,000 Guards Corps and were unable to fight back. They kept retreating to the southwest.

This is not only because the latter's tactics are used more rationally, but also because of the huge gap in the quality of soldiers and weapons and equipment.

The artillery of the Guards Corps also began to bombard the center of the Albanian position under Berthier's order. Nearly ten thousand people were spread out in the open wasteland, and there was almost no need to aim to ensure that the shells would hit.

Soon, Seimetz saw that his left wing collapsed completely, and the French army had formed a flanking attack, squeezing a large number of soldiers into the center of the battlefield. That was where the French artillery fired heavily.

With a livid face, he said to the attendant: "Let Fats go up. Give the order for the whole army to retreat!"

Fats's unit is the general reserve of the Albanian army, with about 1,200 people. They had been staying at the rear of the main battlefield, but they had already completed their formation and now began to move forward in an orderly manner.

However, Berthier would not give them a chance to leave calmly.

He saw the enemy's chaotic state through the telescope and said to the herald: "Take back the cavalry and prepare to pursue and defeat the enemy.

"Let the infantry lines launch a bayonet charge."

"Yes, sir!"

Joseph saw the two companies cutting into the enemy's left wing through the telescope, and nodded approvingly: "Whose company is on the north side?"

Berthier said: "Your Highness, the smoke is too thick and we can't see the flag clearly."

Joseph observed the situation on the battlefield and put forward his own opinion: "The enemy seems to be retreating. Perhaps we can let the two companies go deep into the enemy's rear and cut off their retreat."

Berthier hesitated. After all, they were only two companies with only 200 people.

"Your Highness, if we go back, we are likely to run into the enemy's reserve team. Their number is too small."

Joseph nodded: "I'm just talking casually, don't let me interfere with your judgment."

On the frontal battlefield, the infantry line of the Guards Corps fired the last round of volley less than thirty steps away from the enemy, and then installed bayonets on the muzzles of their guns.

As the sound of the military drums became more rapid than ever, the officers on the frontline waved their swords and pointed at the enemy troops, shouting loudly: "Charge! For His Majesty the King!"

"For His Royal Highness the Crown Prince!"

"Come on!"

The white infantry lines immediately hit the Albanian mercenaries like surging waves. The latter had long been in chaos and did not have the courage to fight - even if they had the courage, their loose and bumpy formation could not do it.

The mercenaries at the front were instantly knocked down by bayonets, and wailing sounds came one after another. The people who had retreated before were so frightened that they turned from retreating in small steps to turning around and running wildly.

On Lefebvre's side, they were still firing and advancing in an orderly manner, but suddenly they found that the enemy had given up resistance and began to flee quickly to the west.

He was stunned for a moment, then turned to the company commander not far away and said: "Anatole, it seems the enemy is going to run away!"

"Then let's catch up!"

Lefebvre looked to the west, shook his head and said: "We are the deepest into the enemy's hinterland. We should try to cut off their retreat at this time."

"ah?"

"Would you like to come with me?"

"what are you up to?"

Lefebvre smiled, turned to the herald and said: "Order the whole company to gather into columns immediately and not to get entangled with the enemy. Let's go west as fast as possible!"

On the Albanian army's side, the General Reserves led by Fats formed a neat line and gave way to a few "Okes", that is, the soldiers of the regiment. Then they saw the Guards Corps in white uniforms charging with bayonets. Come up.

"Aim! Shoot!"

Fats didn't care that there were many of his own men in front of him and hurriedly ordered to open fire.

There was a burst of explosions, thick smoke rose into the air, and dozens of Albanian mercenaries and Guardsmen fell to the ground.

The attack momentum of the Guards Corps suddenly slowed down.

The battalion commanders on the front line frowned slightly when they saw that the Albanians had organized organized resistance.

Just as he was preparing to gather his troops and shoot at the opposite side, he heard someone from the south shouting: "Don't be afraid! They can only fire two shots at most! In the name of the Crown Prince, follow me!"

The battalion commander stood up with his stirrups on. Through the bursts of smoke, he saw a company rushing towards the Albanian defense line like a bison without slowing down.

"Davout?" When he saw the company's flag, he immediately tightened his grip on his riding whip, "This reckless guy! If the enemy..."

As his thoughts flashed through his mind, he heard echoing shouts from the right wing: "Let them see how powerful the police academy students are! All charge at me!"

The battalion commander turned around and saw that there were four or five companies following Davout, running towards the enemy's position in hand-to-hand combat.

He waved his hand vigorously to the messenger: "Order, shoot to cover them!"

The Albanian mercenaries are worthy of being one of the most combat-effective legions in the Ottoman Empire. Although they were shocked by the overwhelming momentum of the Guards, they still gritted their teeth to complete the reloading and raised their guns again.

Fatsi shouted anxiously: "Shoot! Shoot quickly!"

A dense burst of fire flashed instantly.

Dawu, who was running, heard something "chi" passing by his ear. He turned his head subconsciously and saw that half of his sergeant's face was gone. His body turned around in place under the impact of bullets and fell into a pile of weeds.

The shooting of the mercenaries caused more than 30 casualties. This was nothing for the Guards Corps of thousands of people, but it had a great psychological impact on the soldiers.

Dawu stared with bloodshot eyes, his speed did not slow down at all, and he shouted: "They don't have time to reload, everyone go up! Revenge for our brothers!"

In fact, they were still more than 50 steps away from the enemy, and the opposite side might be able to shoot again. But he knew that if he retreated at this time, he would suffer greater losses.

He could only fight hard!

The soldiers who had become timid heard Davout's words and immediately followed his footsteps. The police academy students not far away saw their sacrificed companions and rushed more fiercely than before.

The Albanian reserve team began to reload in a hurry, but when those white uniforms appeared twenty steps away from them, they could no longer remain calm.

Some people took a stance to resist with bayonets, and some turned around to greet the spearmen - yes, the Ottoman army still retained this melee soldier. And more people retreated tremblingly.

Fatsi personally killed two deserters, but was completely unable to curb the momentum of the rout.

Before Davout's bayonet touched an enemy, the Albanian army behind him had dropped their weapons and fled backwards frantically.

"Don't let them escape!" The young Davout waved his hand vigorously behind him, and he stared at Fatsi on horseback, pulled out his pistol and shot at him.

After the Guards cavalry dispersed the Albanian cavalry, they rested a little - mainly because the horses needed to recover their strength - and then formed a team to chase the enemy's fleeing soldiers.

In a pursuit, cavalry is always the main force.

After these hundreds of cavalry joined, the Albanian mercenaries were immediately overtaken in large numbers and knelt down to surrender.

The largest group of fleeing mercenaries, with a strength of three Okers, could no longer hear the shouts of the pursuers after retreating nearly a mile.

They were about to breathe a sigh of relief, but suddenly saw a white "thin line" on the hill in front of them.

It was the two companies of Lefebvre and Anatole, deployed in a line array there.