Novels online

Chapter 1348: A Blood-Forged Defense Line

Kutuzov continued, "Also, the engineer battalion must immediately head to the Dnieper River and construct a pontoon bridge capable of supporting Twelve-Pounder Cannons within a week."

The staff officer beside him felt a knot in his stomach upon hearing this; it seemed their commander was preparing to retreat.

He hesitated for a moment, then quietly reminded him, "General, His Imperial Majesty's orders are for us to hold Minsk at all costs..."

"I am doing just that," Kutuzov said, glancing at him before turning his gaze toward the battlefield. "The Fifth, Sixth, and Eleventh Cossack Cavalry battalions are to immediately launch a full assault on the enemy's artillery positions. Biannov's legion will provide cover.

"Tell them that by three o'clock this afternoon, I expect not to hear the Polish cannons anymore."

His keen battlefield intuition told him that the situation in Minsk would only worsen.

If he were to truly follow the Tsar's orders, his most elite Russian troops would be completely annihilated here.

He needed to stall until significant British supplies arrived; only then would he have a chance to repel the Polish forces.

Until then, unless he could eliminate those cannons that had suddenly appeared opposite them, he might be able to hold on for a while longer.

Subsequently, he summoned several senior generals and issued a series of counterattack orders over a map.

An hour later, a flurry of military drums sounded from the central Russian positions, which had been defensively entrenched. More than five thousand Russian infantry, formed into Line Formations and supported by Skirmishers, launched a counter-charge against the advancing Polish forces.

The Polish forces were still employing their traditional tactic of column assaults, then deploying into lines when closing in.

Two regiments of Polish soldiers had barely advanced a few hundred steps before suddenly encountering the opposing infantry's Line Formation. They had to frantically deploy, but while their formations were still adjusting, they were already being knocked off balance by the Russians' dense volleys.

General Madalinski, commander of the Polish central army, quickly noticed the situation on the battlefield. He promptly sent two reserve infantry regiments to reinforce the line. After a moment's thought, still feeling it wasn't secure enough, he told the messenger, "Order Yanik to bring one battalion and an additional cavalry squadron over. It is crucial to seal this breach as quickly as possible."

"Yes, General!"

On the Polish left flank, Yanik also observed the distant Russian counterattack. Upon receiving the order, he immediately and decisively detached two units to provide reinforcement.

Along this section of the front, where the assault had been like a surging tide, the Polish forces instantly became significantly thinner.

On a hill a kilometer from the front line, Witzschek listened to the rumbling cannon fire from the east. With a beaming smile, he said to his company commander, "Look, my men have already scouted a route. There's a patch of woods over there providing cover; we have a great chance to sneak up on the Russian cannons.

"Just let me try..."

The company commander shot him an annoyed look. "You're in the reserve now. Our entire company is in reserve. Just stay put and wait for orders."

He had heard that their company had been pulled from the assault formation precisely because Witzschek had violated conscription regulations.

As the two spoke, they suddenly heard what sounded like a torrential downpour approaching from the northwest.

The company commander immediately turned his head. As a veteran who had served in the Ore Mountains, he knew this sound indicated a large cavalry force moving in formation.

As the sound grew louder, a messenger galloped up, calling out, "The Brigadier General orders the 6th Skirmisher Battalion to hurry to the western highlands to repel the enemy!"

The previously dejected reserve soldiers immediately grew excited and, guided by their banners, swiftly moved toward their objective.

The Russian Cossack Cavalry battalions easily slipped between two lines of Polish infantry — a battalion should have been there, but it had recently been redeployed to reinforce the center.

Just as the Russian cavalry commander could visually spot the cannons on the distant slope, a burst of gunfire suddenly erupted from their front-left.

He quickly dispatched a small detachment to scout ahead.

Before long, the scout cavalry returned, reporting that over six hundred Polish infantrymen were constructing a defensive line there.

The Cossack commander immediately ordered an attack without hesitation.

Although a direct cavalry charge against infantry was highly disadvantageous, he now commanded over a thousand of his most elite cavalrymen, and General Kutuzov's orders were "at all costs."

General Madalinski heard the staff officer's report that the left flank was under a surprise attack by Russian cavalry, and simultaneously, the distant Polish cannons abruptly fell silent.

His heart sank instantly as he looked at the thousands of Russian infantry still grappling with his forces, outnumbered. He finally understood that they were merely a decoy.

He was about to personally lead his guards into battle when he suddenly heard his own cannons resume firing.

Immediately afterward, a messenger arrived and reported, "General, Lieutenant Colonel Yanik says his men have already held back the attacking enemy cavalry."

Madalinski immediately breathed a sigh of relief. When he looked again at the feigning Russian infantry, his eyes had turned cold.

"Order the Mazowie Legion to pull back a little. Have Colonel Radosław bring over two cavalry squadrons and insert them on the enemy's northern flank."

"Yes, General!"

On a gentle slope on the Polish left flank, General Wojciechowski walked across ground that was already sticky with blood. As far as his gaze reached, there were no signs of life; the bodies of men and horses lay scattered everywhere like fallen leaves.

His staff officer hurried to catch up, saying in a low voice, "General, we only found fewer than 70 wounded. The others have likely all..."

Wojciechowski took a deep breath, then looked toward the artillery positions on the higher ground. "Is the defense line set?"

"Yes, General, the Second Regiment is all there. The Palma soldiers have also returned," the staff officer replied. "According to the wounded, the Russian cavalry lost nearly half their strength. I imagine they won't be coming back."

Wojciechowski nodded silently. "Whose troops were defending here just now?"

"It appears to have been Lieutenant Colonel Yanik's reserves, General."

Just moments ago, over six hundred soldiers from the 6th Skirmisher Battalion had defended within these sparse thickets, using their flesh and blood to hold back over a thousand Cossack Cavalry for a full half-hour, buying General Wojciechowski precious time to send reinforcements.

"What about my men?!"

Yanik rode up with over a hundred soldiers. He looked up and immediately saw the corpse of a Polish soldier whose hands were still tightly gripping the foreleg of an enemy warhorse.

General Wojciechowski approached, shaking his head. "They were all great heroes. Only fewer than 70 are still alive."

Yanik suddenly remembered something and urgently asked, "Witzschek, where is Sergeant Witzschek?"

His staff officer quickly led men to count the wounded. He returned shortly and whispered to him, "Lieutenant Colonel, someone saw him kill at least three Russians, and then... he was cut down by a saber..."