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Chapter 36: Blood and Courage

"Six hundred and fifty?" Wolster immediately protested. "Those are all my cavalry, and you have no right to deploy them..."

Captain Dubois didn't let him finish, smiling faintly. "Give me your cavalry, or you face the Prussians alone."

"No, don't..." The Dutch commander-in-chief waved a hand in resignation. "The cavalry are yours. We can't afford to squabble at a time like this."

"An excellent decision!"

Dubois turned to the curly-haired French Second Lieutenant. "André, proceed according to the original plan. How soon can you depart?"

André saluted by raising his hat. "Yes, sir! My men have completed all preparations and are ready to move out at any moment. However, the Dutch cavalry might still need some time."

Dubois nodded. "Those men are under your command now. Go teach them how to improve their efficiency."

"Yes, sir!"

The Second Lieutenant of cavalry departed. Dubois looked at the Dutch officers in the war tent. "So, does everyone now agree to launch a preemptive strike against the Prussian vanguard?"

"Very good, thank you all." Dubois approached the map, pointing to the location of the Sibela River. "Mr. Wolster, please deploy the Hague Guards here."

A Dutch officer said with some displeasure, "There aren't any 'Guards' anymore. They are all troops of the States General."

Dubois nodded nonchalantly. "Alright, whatever they're called, they'll be integrated with my artillery and wait for the Prussian vanguard here.

"Meanwhile, the 'Free Corps' will form a Line Formation 200 meters to the south, ready to receive the first wave of the Prussian assault."

The so-called "Free Corps" were militia groups formed by the Dutch Patriot Party, while the Hague Guards were the elite troops of the former William V. The disparity in their combat effectiveness was self-evident. Of course, these Guards had also participated in the expulsion of William V, so their loyalty to the States General was not to be doubted.

A Dutch officer immediately objected, "You're making the Free Corps cannon fodder! Why aren't the French taking the front lines?"

Wolster raised a hand to stop him. "Captain Dubois is right. Without seasoned veterans holding the line behind them, the Free Corps would quickly rout before the Prussian army..."

Dubois, however, said calmly, "The Free Corps doesn't need to fight the Prussians to the death. After engaging, they simply need to fall back to the flanks. My concern is their level of training—whether they can execute the tactical arrangements without falling into disarray."

Wolster suddenly puffed out his chest, stating gravely, "I will personally command the Free Corps."

Dubois nodded, continuing, "And after that, we'll do this..."

As his pencil sketched, the area less than five kilometers wide between the Sibela River and Abcoudermeer on the map was already covered with markers for Dutch and French troops.

...

South of Amstelveen.

"Report!" A ranger rode up to André, reining in his horse and saluting by raising his hat. "Prussian movements detected three kilometers to the east, over four thousand strong. Primarily infantry, with a small number of cavalry."

André nodded. 'This must be the Prussian vanguard,' he thought. He immediately turned and commanded, "The entire army will move one kilometer west, slowly and quietly, keeping an eye out for Prussian reconnaissance scouts."

"Yes, sir!"

André checked his pocket watch, then took out a map to examine it. According to previous intelligence, the main Prussian force was fifteen kilometers away, downstream of the Sibela River. At their current speed, they would be able to bypass them by noon tomorrow.

As he had anticipated, at two o'clock the next afternoon, the rangers discovered a large Prussian convoy. However, there were over three thousand Prussian soldiers protecting the convoy.

André ordered the entire army to form up on the west side of the Sibela River. Only then did he notice his palms were slick with sweat.

He had graduated from military academy less than two years ago, and this was his first time actually commanding a battle. It was impossible not to be nervous. Originally, he was just the second-in-command of this cavalry company, but the company commander had contracted dysentery on the way to the Netherlands and returned to France for treatment. Thus, André was given command under critical circumstances, becoming the commander of the French volunteer cavalry company.

He gazed at the distant plains and river, suddenly feeling a surge of worry.

He wasn't afraid to face the Prussians. This was merely a harassment mission, but even in a decisive battle, he was confident he could crush the enemy with his glorious blood and fearless courage!

Five days.

Even if he fell in battle, he firmly believed his saber would lie between his corpse and the Prussian army.

What he worried about was five days from now.

After the French volunteers and Dutch forces held back the Prussians for five days, would the Prussians truly retreat?

His uncle had found out through internal connections that this operation plan was formulated by His Royal Highness the Crown Prince—a military plan devised by a thirteen-year-old boy...

André tried not to dwell on it. He wasn't afraid to die; falling on the battlefield was a soldier's fate. What he feared was a meaningless death. Especially since he had come to the Netherlands in a "private" capacity; if they ultimately failed to protect the Patriot Party, the military might not even acknowledge his sacrifice for the country.

'I hope that "Son of Divine Favor" is truly as miraculous as the legends claim,' he thought.

He didn't know how much time had passed when a ranger's voice broke his reverie. "Report, the Prussian convoy is approaching."

A keen glint flashed in André's eyes. He waved forward and commanded, "Charge!"

The French cavalry company led the way, with the former Dutch Guard cavalry following close behind, surging towards the Prussian supply train.

While still a considerable distance away, sharp bugle calls rang out from the Prussian army. Large numbers of infantry quickly gathered, forming a dense Line Formation with their backs to the convoy, muskets and bayonets pointed forward, ready for battle.

Dust clouds billowed and hooves thundered. André, seeing only countless Prussian soldiers in the distance, raised his Charleville Model 1728 Carbine and fired a shot toward the Prussian position.

The cavalrymen behind him also fired their weapons. Crackling shots erupted, and the battlefield was immediately wreathed in gunpowder smoke.

However, they were still over 400 meters away from the Prussian army at this point, and their bullets could not inflict any damage.

But the dense gunfire still greatly alarmed the Prussian commander. The cavalry before him appeared to be nearly a thousand strong, leading him to believe it might be the main Dutch force.

After André finished firing, he immediately led the cavalry in a sharp turn south, galloping past the Prussian lines at a distance of over 300 meters.

The Prussian army waited for over twenty minutes, seeing no enemy charge. Just as they were grumbling and preparing to reform ranks to continue their march, a large troop of cavalry suddenly attacked from their flank and rear, accompanied by dense gunfire.

The Prussian commander's face darkened. He again ordered his troops to form up to meet the attack, but the enemy cavalry merely circled in front of them and then whistled away.

The number of Prussian cavalry protecting the convoy was too small to pursue effectively.

Thus, André commanded his cavalry to come and go, again and again, forcing the Prussians to remain in defensive formations until the main Prussian cavalry arrived as reinforcements near nightfall. Only then did André finally cease his harassment.

André allowed his troops to rest for several hours in a dense forest, then immediately ordered them to move north overnight, heading straight for the main Prussian assembly point.