Holy Roman Empire

Chapter 93: Chapter 93: Fabricating Military Intelligence

Translator: 549690339

Dawn slowly lifted its curtain, and blood had dyed the land red, brilliantly juxtaposed against the great red lantern rising in the east; the air was still thick with the stench of blood, as if recounting the horrific brutality of the previous night.

The war had come to an end, and small groups of Austrian soldiers were cleaning up the battlefield, while occasionally, a group of prisoners was escorted past, proving who the real victor of this war was.

General Grig ordered, “Dispose of the enemy corpses as quickly as possible, we don’t have enough priests in our army to send them off!”

The summer of 1848 arrived unusually early, with temperatures rising to 32°C in May. To prevent an epidemic, there was no choice but to burn the bodies.

Giant flames began to burn, and a group of priests walked out from among the prisoners to partake in the farewell ceremony; General Grig did not stop them.

On the European Continent, faith is an inescapable topic. To offer the deceased the most basic respect is the fundamental moral integrity expected of the nobility.

While saying goodbye to the enemy, the Austrian army also bid farewell to their own comrades; General Grig’s mood sank as he watched familiar young men being buried into the earth.

For one general’s success, a thousand bones wither. The battle the night before had gone smoothly, yet the Austrian army still paid a heavy price.

Nearly a whole battalion was wiped out, especially the eight hundred or so who participated in the raiding party, less than half survived, and this included a hundred wounded.

The casualties were heavy, but the results were astonishing: over three thousand enemy soldiers killed, over seven thousand captured, and numerous supplies seized, marking the largest victory since the outbreak of the war.

With the victory in the Trento campaign, the situation on the Venice battlefield underwent a dramatic change, revealing the Sardinian Army’s true lack of combat strength.

The opposing Austrian army was greatly encouraged; many generals were rubbing their hands together, ready to seize the opportunity to make a major move.

Trento was a crucial part of the Venice war effort; Marshal Bardorio had deployed heavy troops there, leaving other places less fortunate. Even with a numerical advantage in troops, it couldn’t be several times greater.

The Trento campaign became the turning point of the Ausa war; after this battle, the tide of attack and defense reversed, and the Austrian army began their counteroffensive wave.

At the Sardinian Army headquarters, Major General Mantuya reported, “Marshal, the current situation is extremely unfavorable for us, the Papal Army is in retreat, having left the battlefield, it seems they are ready to withdraw from this war.

The Tuscans, after suffering a crushing defeat in the past few days, have become ostrich-like, now stationed fifty kilometers away from the battlefield in Brescia.

Even if we want to engage with the enemy, it would take two days of marching; we are now fighting a lonely battle.”

Marshal Bardoglio’s brow was deeply furrowed; mediocrity remains mediocrity, his military knowledge was just not sufficient to command so many troops in battle.

Not only him, but within the entire Sardinian Army, there was no general capable of managing an army of two hundred thousand in combat.

There was no other option; famous generals are made through battle. The Standing Army of the Kingdom of Sardinia was only twenty to thirty thousand strong, with the highest-ranking front-line officers being only at the level of division commanders.

Suddenly promoted to command a group army, leading twenty times the troops they used to, anyone would need a period to adjust.

At present, Marshal Bardoglio was still adapting; ever since the Venice campaign commenced, varying degrees of chaos had ensued among the Sardinian troops, leaving him exhausted from the turmoil.

Massaging his forehead, Marshal Bardorio spoke, “Let’s not worry about the Papal Army for now. There has been some upheaval within the Papal State, and they’re not concerned with this war anymore.”

“The Tuscans now have only a regiment’s worth of troops left, which has become virtually irrelevant to this war.”

“If it weren’t for political reasons, I wouldn’t mind telling them to bugger off immediately, so they wouldn’t stay and waste our food!”

Clearly, Marshal Bardorio harbored deep resentment toward these two undisciplined allied forces and had completely lost faith in them.

“Marshal, Marshal, there’s been a disaster!” the guard said, agitated.

Bardorio glared in the direction of the voice. In his heart, he had already sentenced the panicked guard to death, now calculating where to exile the fool who couldn’t grasp the severity of matters to eat dust.

“Slow down, the sky isn’t falling!”

Trying to compose himself, the guard said, “Marshal, we’ve received news from the front lines. Our troops besieging Trento were ambushed last night. Now, the losses are severe, and General Messe is retreating toward Bergamo!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the baton in Marshal Bardorio’s hand flew out, striking the unfortunate guard on the forehead.

Before the guard could react, Marshal Bardorio charged over and grabbed the front of his uniform, asking furiously, “How is that possible? Are you sure you’re not reporting false military intelligence?”

At this point, the guard was nearly wetting himself, finally understanding why the daunting task of reporting to the Marshal had fallen on him.

With trepidation, the guard said, “Marshal, these are reports from the front line. We’ve already sent people to verify the information; it’s absolutely accurate!”

Hearing this response only enraged Marshal Bardorio further. He shoved the guard to the ground and glared at him with murderous eyes, barking, “Why wasn’t it reported earlier?”

Lying on the ground, looking bewildered, the guard thought, Report earlier? With the truth unconfirmed, the extent of the losses unknown, what was I supposed to report?

Could I have said there might have been a major defeat on the front lines, the army might have suffered heavy losses, with casualties estimated between zero and 30,000?

Watching the furious Marshal Bardorio, everyone wisely chose to remain silent onlookers, even though they too wanted to understand what had actually happened at the front lines and why General Messe had been defeated.

After venting his anger, Marshal Bardorio gradually calmed down, suppressed his emotions, and continued, “You’re useless, dare not even stand up quickly!”

Two quick-acting young officers immediately helped the bewildered guard to his feet.

“Speak. What exactly happened at the front lines? Could it be that Messe, that idiot, with three divisions couldn’t beat an enemy regiment?” Bardorio asked.

The infantry division structure in the Sardinian Army was not large: after expansion it increased somewhat, but it essentially varied between 8,500 and 12,000 men.

Even with a small structure like that, facing an Austrian regiment of just over two thousand, there should have been an absolute advantage with no chance of an upset.

The guard said in fear, “Marshal, we were deceived. There wasn’t just one regiment in Trento. Preliminary estimates suggest at least five infantry divisions; that’s why we were defeated!”

Undoubtedly, this was a case of reporting false military intelligence. Not even at the risk of his life would General Messe dare say the enemy had only three regiments, as that would mean facing a military tribunal.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!