Chapter 251 The Horse Bandits Must Be Eliminated

Hungary.

A team of cavalrymen coming from Graz attracted special attention. They noticed that the horses of these knights were not the local hot-tempered mixed-blood horses, but a kind of gentle and quiet horses.

However, it was easy to identify that this was a war horse from the strong hind legs, strong back and waist.

Yes, Holstein horses were one of the best war horse breeds in the 19th century, with both explosive power and endurance.

However, this thing could not tolerate roughage. If you want it to run, you need to feed it with black beans and rapeseed oil, and the food treatment is better than that of ordinary citizens.

Albrecht looked at the well-equipped troops behind him and couldn't help feeling emotional.

"It would be great if those weapons hadn't been invented!"

Three days later, at a royal estate on the Great Plain of Hungary.

Itamar is a retired cavalry colonel. To be honest, he never thought that a group of "serfs" would be so difficult to deal with.

Although he had served for twenty years, Itamar had never participated in a battle. He thought it would be a pleasant thing to take a group of young people with revolvers to shoot a few serfs, but he soon found that he would pay the price for his wrong judgment.

Many people had said that this was a simple "hunting" before, and he thought so at the time. But who would have thought that he had lost more than a dozen people at once in the first fight, which made him want to cry without tears, fearing that he would not be able to report to his superiors.

Itamar had a hundred men under his command, all of whom were a group of young people with blood and vigor. Each of them was equipped with two revolvers and a saber. The first two attacks were successful, but the third one was not effective. "I don't know where those German immigrants got the rifles from." He thought to himself.

The result of the revolver and rifle shooting can be imagined. Fortunately, the level of both sides was very poor, and no large number of casualties were caused.

This time, Itamar brought two cavalry cannons. He thought it would be more fun to chase and kill those headless flies running around.

The caliber of the cavalry guns was very small, but it was enough to deal with those simple wooden fences.

A few shells blasted the wooden fence to pieces. Just as several young people were talking and laughing and preparing to continue shooting, several figures suddenly appeared behind the fence, holding rifles and aiming here.

Itamar couldn't help laughing at the scene in front of him. Not to mention a group of serfs, even trained soldiers would have a fantasy to hit their own targets 200 meters away.

However, his smile froze the next second. Several bullets accurately hit the people near his cavalry guns, and a puff of blood mist emerged after penetrating the human body.

Seeing their companions fall, the other "horse bandits" immediately took out their revolvers and started to fight back. Everyone had used up the bullets in their guns.

Several "farmers" 200 meters away changed bullets very calmly. Soon the second round of bullets came again, and several more "horse bandits" fell.

At this time, Itamar suddenly realized.

"It's a rifle! Idiot, don't shoot at them! Get on your horse and charge them! Quick!"

The group of young Magyar nobles were still very courageous. They immediately climbed onto their horses, squeezed their legs against the horses' bellies and rushed towards the wooden fence.

In a church not far away, Albrecht was observing the situation on the battlefield with a telescope.

Seeing this, he couldn't help but sigh.

"Are they here to die?"

Just before the hot-blooded bandits were about to rush into the manor, a caravan blocked the door.

It was obvious that the war horses could not cross the caravan and could not rush through. Now there were only two choices before them, either turn around and go back, or dismount and fight on foot.

If they chose the former, turning around and going back would inevitably become the target of the sharpshooters on the parapets, and the result of choosing the latter would be no different.

Just when they were in a dilemma, the light cavalry who had been ambushed on the flanks rushed out. But all this was only seen by Itamar, who was sitting in the rear, and he was immediately horrified and secretly cried out that it was not good.

The chaos ahead continued, and Itamar's shouts were hard to distinguish on the battlefield with gunfire.

When the horse bandits finally found themselves ambushed, the distance between the two sides was less than 100 meters. This only took a few seconds for the warhorse.

Since ancient times, the result of cavalry battles has always been that before the two sides came into contact, one side could not withstand the pressure and directly collapsed, and then was chased by the other side.

This time, the horse bandits played the latter role. As "hunters", they became "prey" to be hunted.

What's worse is that most of the horse bandits have not undergone formal cavalry training. Most of them are just some hot-blooded nobles and young people.

When these former "hunters" found that the knights of Franz's dragoon regiment were charging at them, their brains were still thinking about why lowly serfs had cavalry.

The light cavalry of the dragoon regiment used long spears. Lancers, a type of troops that should have disappeared in history, can only be seen in Austria and the extinct Poland.

However, the reason why Lancers were eliminated was not because they were not strong enough in impact or posed little threat to cavalry.

In fact, Lancers were the most powerful type of troops in this era. Under the leadership of a skilled commander, they could cause effective damage to infantry formations or cavalry clusters.

But this type of soldier has a fatal flaw, which is that it takes a lot of time to receive complex training. For example, the famous French cuirassiers have to go through the test of "passing five levels", the Scottish Greys have seven trainings, and the Prussian Skeleton Cavalry has nine.

However, the Polish Lancers have to go through 55 different trainings, 22 against cavalry, 18 against infantry, and 15 basic trainings alone.

The Austrian Lancers of the same period also need to go through 37 trainings to become a qualified Lancer.

A qualified Polish Lancer usually needs five years or even longer training, and some of them cannot master these 55 skills throughout their lives.

Historically, the Poles have a special liking for the elite route, so the consequences are that when they are glorious, the Winged Hussars are Ping Duzhenlu, and when they are miserable, they are the European stepping cloth.

The training of Austrian Lancers usually takes three years, while Prussian Skeleton Cavalry only takes one year, Scottish Grey Cavalry can be trained in six months, and French Cuirassiers during the Napoleonic era only need three months from enlistment to death.

But this is very suitable for Franz's dragoon regiment, because they have been studying combat all their lives.

Back to the point, the horse bandits who lost their mobility advantage and the initiative in fighting were stabbed by the opponent's spears before they even had time to struggle. However, in just a few dozen seconds, the battlefield that was so noisy just now became quiet.

Due to Archduke Albrecht's order of "only killing the enemy but not pursuing", the cavalry retreated after completing the defensive mission and did not charge towards Itamar, who was two hundred meters away.

"Let's run, Master Itamar." The old servant grew up with Itamar, and he had seen the world as he joined the army with his master.

He not only knew how powerful the cavalry was, but also understood that those hiding behind the parapets were not serfs, but "sharpshooters". If he did not retreat, he would probably die here.

(Note: The elite skirmishers at that time were called sharpshooters. Austria had only one sharpshooter regiment in Tyrol)

"Balaz, my legs can't move, help me." At this time, the old servant found that Master Itamar's pants were wet.

Obviously, the killing just now left him with an overly shocking impression. In fact, it was not his fault. A person who had never really participated in the war watched more than 60 lives disappear without a ripple in front of his eyes. It was difficult to remain rational.

Balazs had just helped Itamar onto the horse when a bullet pierced his head. At the same time, several young men who wanted to successfully take the cavalry gun away also suffered the same fate. It was obvious that the sharpshooters behind the parapets wanted to leave some war trophies.

Seeing their companions being easily shot and killed like prey right in front of them, the morale of the remaining bandits completely collapsed. They were like frightened antelopes being chased by lions, screaming impatiently and fleeing from the hunting grounds.

Seeing the enemy fleeing in a panic, the sharpshooters disguised as serfs in the royal manor raised their glasses.

"Cheers! Friends! We won!"

At this time, the German immigrants and Hungarian refugees who had been bullied before were all crying with joy. These people who had suffered so much finally didn't have to worry anymore. This was the time for them to vent their anger, and the enemy could no longer hinder them.

At night, people piled the dead bandits and horses together, put them on wood and lit a bonfire. A bonfire party began like this. Albrecht did not approve of this behavior, but he would not be too harsh on his men.

Albrecht divided the team into three groups to take turns to be responsible for the night guard work. The rest of the people were free to rest or revel, but they were not allowed to doze off when on duty.

However, as the saying goes, there are policies from above and countermeasures from below. As soon as Albrecht's order was announced, the people below had evil thoughts.

The Grand Duke was very strict in military discipline, not to mention that it was very rude to doze off in front of the royal family.

So they decided to pick a group of unlucky people to be responsible for night watch, and the rest of the people were partying all night.

Albrecht did not follow Franz's advice to gather the troops together, but divided them into six groups to be responsible for the defense of six manors respectively.

Franz was of course afraid that something would really happen to him, while Albrecht thought that it would be too inefficient to do so.

From the war reports from other regions and his own observations, there is no doubt that the so-called horse bandits who have been wreaking havoc on the Great Plains for a hundred years are completely a mob.

At this time, several brave girls came towards him. Albrecht's first reaction was to call the guards, but he found that the guards were staring at them with lustful eyes, so he had to kick them hard on the buttocks.

"Idiot!"

"Sir, why don't you celebrate?"

"This is just a tactical victory, not worth celebrating."

"Sir, you have been busy all night. Today may not mean much to you, but it is more worth celebrating than a holiday for us. Have a drink and relax!" said one of the sweet-looking and generous girls.

Albrecht thought about it and it seemed right. He was often said to be unkind, so he decided to change and took the wine glass and drank it all.

"Ladies, you can leave now."

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