Chapter 1469: The Cruel Winter
January 30, 1801.
In the Polish Army's frontline command post at the Yartsevo Crossing, thirty-five kilometers east of the Russian fortress of Smolensk.
The operational meeting had just concluded, but General Mokronowski returned to Marshal Kościuszko's office, looking deeply troubled. "Marshal, if we cross the Vop River, our army will have very little room to adjust its strategic deployment," he warned.
"I believe we should perhaps observe the situation a bit longer and use this time to reinforce our supply lines."
He glanced at the map on the wall. "If the Russian forces in the Caucasus return, our flank will face an immense risk."
Kościuszko had also begun to hesitate about continuing the advance after receiving a warning from the French Regent. After all, the latter's judgment of the war situation had always been remarkably accurate in the past.
His hand instinctively reached into his pocket, gripping the resolution from the Great Sejm in Warsaw regarding the launch of a general offensive. It bore the King's own signature.
His gaze quickly hardened, and he shook his head. "Given the marching speed of the Russians, it would take them at least three months to get here from Stavropol.
"This year's severe winter will only make that duration even longer. We have plenty of time to arrange our defensive lines."
Kościuszko raised his hand to cut his subordinate off. He took a deep breath and commanded, "Please return to your camp, General. We have only one option: to take Moscow."
As soon as he finished speaking, a staff officer knocked and entered the room, handing him a letter. "Marshal, Colonel Laurent Gouvion Saint-Cyr, dispatched by the French General Staff, is currently passing the Dnieper River. He is expected to arrive in Yartsevo in five days."
"Excellent!" Mokronowski's face instantly brightened with joy. "How many soldiers did he bring?"
The staff officer lowered his head. "Approximately forty guards, General."
Mokronowski frowned. "You mean he came essentially alone?"
Kościuszko waved it off. "The fact that Paris sent him at all is a demonstration of their support. That is what matters most."
He straightened his uniform. "Let us welcome him with a grand victory!"
At four o'clock that afternoon, General Madaliński sent a messenger from the front to report to Kościuszko. The main force of forty-five thousand men had completely crossed the Vop River and would continue their eastward advance the following morning.
At the same time, a message arrived from Bielak, the commander of the Lithuanian Cavalry responsible for foraging. His men had pushed sixty kilometers deep into the Prechistoye area, but they had found almost no food. They hadn't even seen more than a handful of inhabited villages.
Kościuszko's brow furrowed.
Logically, even if the Russians were fleeing the fires of war, they shouldn't have vanished so completely. Furthermore, how did those peasants know the Polish Army was approaching? Without replenishment from nearby villages, the pressure on his logistics would suddenly skyrocket.
He turned to the staff officer beside him. "How much longer can our rations last?"
"About twenty days, Marshal. However, we only have enough fodder for about a week."
"Send word to Minsk to hasten the supply of grain." Kościuszko glanced at the heavy snow outside the window. "Also, increase the order for winter gear. It is far too cold this year."
He raised his voice. "Order General Madaliński to accelerate the march! Once we capture Dorogobuzh, we will have everything we need."
Dorogobuzh was a city located over 120 kilometers from Smolensk.
"Yes, Marshal!"
Just as the staff officer turned to leave, a messenger burst in, shouting anxiously, "Marshal! General Bielak has been attacked by twenty thousand Russians! He is requesting immediate reinforcements!"
Bielak's corps was stationed at Demidov Village to the north, forming the Polish Army's left wing.
Kościuszko's face darkened.
Shouldn't the Russian forces be concentrated west of Moscow for defense? How could they spare troops to attack his rear?
"Tell Kilinski to take his men to reinforce them..." he started to say.
He did not expect that over the following days, a series of even worse news would arrive in succession.
First, a supply convoy was ambushed by a large force of Cossack Cavalry at Babruysk, resulting in the loss of nearly thirty wagons of supplies.
Next, over thirty thousand Russian troops appeared at Roslavl, south of Smolensk.
Most devastatingly, several thousand Russian troops who had been hunkered down in Kyiv actually abandoned their defensive lines to launch an attack on the Polish forces in Mazyr. Kościuszko suddenly remembered that the French Regent had suggested long ago to concentrate forces to capture Kyiv first. He closed his eyes in bitter frustration. A few hours later, all Polish officers were summoned to headquarters for an emergency operational meeting.
At the Orsha Crossing.
As Saint-Cyr listened to the messenger's report, his mind was filled with the story the Prince Regent had told him.
'In a certain distant world, an invincible Emperor led a grand army of six hundred thousand to conquer a vast, impoverished, but warlike and frozen land.
'At first, the Emperor's army was unstoppable. In just a few months, they drove nearly a thousand kilometers into the enemy nation, surrounding its economic and religious heart—its largest city.
'What no one expected was that the enemy moved the entire population of the city and the surrounding areas, leaving behind no supplies. When the Emperor's grand army entered the city, the enemy set it ablaze.
'It was the dead of winter. The Emperor's army lost its supplies. Amidst the night winds and heavy snow, men froze to death by the roadside in waves.
'The warhorses died in droves due to a lack of fodder, further crippling the Emperor's mobility and logistical capabilities.
'Finally, the Emperor realized he had walked into a quagmire and was forced to order a retreat.
'It was then that the enemy's army suddenly appeared.
'They did not dare to fight a decisive battle against the Emperor's main force. They simply followed them, harassing them constantly, ensuring the Emperor could never retreat in peace.
'Driven by hunger, the Emperor's soldiers began to wander further afield to search for food. The enemy's cavalry, however, lay in wait at every passage, ruthlessly hunting down the imperial soldiers.
'Meanwhile, frostbite, dysentery, pneumonia, and scurvy broke out within the imperial ranks, reaping the lives of the soldiers even faster than the enemy's bullets.
'By the time the Emperor retreated to a vital river, the enemy commander had already quietly arranged a three-sided encirclement.
'The Emperor's command was flawless, but shortly after the pontoon bridges were constructed, the enemy swarmed them.
'The imperial army crowded onto the bridges in a panicked mass, trampling one another. Men fell into the freezing water by the hundreds, while behind them, the enemy's cannons roared.
'In the end, the imperial army lost nearly ninety percent of its soldiers before retreating to safety. They never recovered from the blow.'
Saint-Cyr glanced at the map. According to the messenger, Russian forces had appeared to the north and south of Smolensk, yet they consistently avoided a decisive battle with the Polish Army.
This situation was terrifyingly similar to the state of "attrition via three-sided encirclement" described in the Prince Regent's story!
Comments