Chapter 443: The Marshal's Temptation
Silesia.
Southeastern section of the Prussian-Austrian front near Liegnitz.
Inside the Austrian command post in Wałbrzych, General Leo, his shoulders adorned with newly minted general's epaulets, offered a crystal-clear glass of wine to the French lieutenant colonel before him, a cordial smile gracing his face. "You simply must try this, my dear old friend," he urged. "It's a Bordeaux Fine Wine, a personal gift from His Imperial Majesty."
"Thank you for your hospitality," Lefebvre replied, taking the glass and raising it in a toast. "It took me a full month to travel all the way from Algiers to get here, and I've come to visit you straightaway. You've been promoted to general! My sincerest congratulations!"
Upon Leo's return from the Southern Netherlands, Leopold II had personally signed the commission, promoting him exceptionally to the rank of General.
Leo smiled, raising his glass in return. "This wouldn't have been possible without your help."
He was speaking the plain truth. Back then, if Lefebvre hadn't helped him, he would likely have been captured by the Prussians.
"Oh, by the way, I've also prepared luncheon for you. The cheese-braised beef and roasted pork knuckle here are quite exquisite."
Lefebvre exchanged pleasantries with him as they stepped outside, then said offhandedly, "By the way, how did Marshal Lacy come to assign you here? I mean, you should absolutely be making a name for yourself on the main front, not guarding this isolated little town."
He almost blurted out 'fishing,' but quickly cleared his throat and corrected himself. "Ah, inspecting the defenses, training soldiers, things like that."
"Indeed, all for His Imperial Majesty's service," Lefebvre nodded, then leaned in closer and said earnestly, "However, as a loyal old friend, I don't believe you should be so idle at a time like this."
"Oh? What do you mean?"
"To be frank, given your current prestige and your achievements in the Southern Netherlands, you could absolutely be appointed Marshal," Lefebvre said, sounding genuinely regretful. "However, His Imperial Majesty might consider you still a bit young."
Leo was currently just 35 years old. If he could become a Marshal, he would indeed be remarkably young.
"It can't be helped," Leo said, waving his hand with a smile. "I'm quite satisfied with my current situation."
He was indeed satisfied. Without that fortuitous encounter in the Southern Netherlands, he would likely have topped out as a major general in this lifetime.
Lefebvre extended his right index finger and thumb, holding them a small distance apart. "Actually, you're only a tiny bit of military merit away from becoming Marshal."
He then lowered his voice. "Marshal Lacy, it seems, isn't particularly eager for you to threaten his position.
"Look, Wałbrzych is at the very end of the front line, where no fierce battles will ever take place. By the time the war ends, you'll have no further opportunities to earn accolades."
Leo blinked, and felt that his old friend made a valid point. The word 'Marshal,' in particular, stirred his heart like a beautiful woman preening alluringly.
He then immediately looked troubled. "But Lacy likely won't agree to transfer me to the main front. You know, that's where all his own people are."
Lefebvre nodded, assuming a thoughtful posture. "Perhaps you could open up a new front elsewhere."
"Elsewhere?"
"Yes, for instance, Ratibor. The Prussian garrison there isn't particularly large. You could absolutely take it on your own."
Ratibor is at the southernmost tip of Silesia, a smaller province.
Leo said, perplexed, "But even if we retake Ratibor, we'd immediately face the Oder River, which would have little to no impact on the overall war."
To advance from Ratibor to Breslau, the Silesian capital, one would have to cross the Oder River. The Prussians could simply deploy a small force to defend along the river, making it very difficult for the Austrian army to cross. Conversely, Prussian forces could swiftly move downstream from Breslau along the Oder, deploy troops north of Ratibor, and retake the area.
However, south of Ratibor lies the Sudetes mountain range. From there, it would be impossible to threaten Austrian territory proper. Thus, neither side in the Silesian War paid much attention to Ratibor.
Lefebvre smiled faintly. "All you need is that small bit of merit to be promoted to Marshal. And reclaiming any piece of Silesian territory, no matter where, would be sufficient for you to become a Marshal."
At these words, Leo's eyes lit up. 'That's right!' he thought. 'Why didn't I consider that?'
Once promoted to Marshal, he could return to Vienna and enjoy a life of ease. As for what happened in Silesia, that would be Lacy's problem.
"Thank you so much!" he exclaimed, looking at Lefebvre with some excitement. "You always give me the most sound advice; it was the same in the Southern Netherlands. You truly are my best friend!"
He then hesitated slightly. "But, are you certain I can capture Ratibor?"
He knew his own capabilities. Back in Luxembourg, his large army had been utterly defeated by the Prussians. In the end, it was Lefebvre, leading over three thousand soldiers, who turned the tide, allowing him to claim a major victory.
"The Prussian garrison in Ratibor shouldn't exceed 7,000 men. Your corps has 16,000 soldiers. You can leave a small force to defend Wałbrzych."
Lefebvre said, gesturing around them, "This godforsaken place has little worth defending. Lead your superior force in a fierce assault, and you'll surely crush the Prussians swiftly."
Leo looked at him eagerly. "My old friend, would you be able to accompany me?"
Lefebvre immediately grew serious. "I would be delighted to fight alongside you, but this concerns your promotion to Marshal, and I shouldn't take any share of your military achievements.
"Oh, once you've recaptured Ratibor, I can help you defend it. I guarantee it."
Lefebvre then offered many more encouraging words. A moment later, Leo's gaze finally hardened with resolve.
Three days later.
Leo gazed into the distance at the hazy outline of Ratibor in the mist. He turned to his chief of staff and asked, "Are there any unusual movements from the Prussians?"
"None yet, General. The enemy forces are hunkered down behind the town's defenses."
Leo nodded and commanded, "Order the soldiers to maintain strict concealment. At precisely 10 o'clock, launch the general assault as planned."
He had brought 12,000 troops with him for this operation. According to Lefebvre, all he needed to do was launch a surprise, fierce assault, and victory would be swift.
"Yes, General!"
Two hours later, Leo's corps' artillery appeared on the southwestern flank of Ratibor. Two 12-pounder cannons and seven 6-pounder cannons roared simultaneously.
After more than twenty rounds of shelling, large formations of Austrian infantry, arrayed in columns and accompanied by the roll of drums, launched an attack on the Prussian positions from the west and south.
Leo had spent so much time with Lefebvre that, regardless of his actual combat prowess, he had at least mastered the appearance of proper military tactics.
The Prussians seemed caught off guard. It was a good while before their cannons began to return fire.
Meanwhile, the Austrian soldiers, braving the artillery fire, soon surged forward to the first defensive line outside the town. At their officers' command, they began to spread out to the flanks, forming into battle lines.
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