Chapter 654: For Victory
Joseph understood clearly that Russia's strategic objective this time was not to gobble up Poland whole, but to seize the eastern provinces where Eastern Orthodoxy was prevalent.
Therefore, a defense of Warsaw wouldn't happen—if Poland retreated westward, the Russian army would halt its advance and begin to consolidate the occupied territories. The collapse of their army would make it difficult for the Polish government to refuse a ceasefire.
Furthermore, if the Russian army gained an advantage, Prussia would immediately stab Poland in the back.
Thus, Poland had to defend its eastern territories, or it would repeat the historical scenario of the Second Partition of Poland.
But how to stop the Russian army seemed to be an insoluble problem...
As Berthier continued to elaborate on the full scope of the operational plan, the Polish officers' eyes widened increasingly.
"...This way, we can create a standoff with Russia. With their losses mounting daily, the Russians will have no choice but to agree to a ceasefire..."
Żywski swallowed, instinctively saying:
"This... this is too radical, isn't it?"
"No, please believe me, this is the only way to save Poland."
Yes, this was the tactic he had finally settled on—choosing the most radical among the General Staff's many operational plans, then making it even more aggressive by incorporating classic battle examples from later eras. He then entrusted Berthier and his staff to finalize the specific tactical design.
As the weaker party, Poland had to be willing to stake its very existence to carve out a sliver of hope for survival.
Moreover, he knew that even if this plan ultimately failed, the outcome wouldn't be worse than passive defense. Furthermore, neither Russia, Prussia, Austria, nor even other Western European countries wanted Russia to have direct contact with Central European nations.
Therefore, Poland would never be in danger of complete annihilation.
Given this, why not go all out?
And if this "mad dog" approach succeeded, it would serve as an excellent deterrent, making Prussia and Austria back down.
Poniatowski and his officers, however, exchanged glances, each seeing the unspoken question in the other's eyes: 'Why are these Frenchmen even more radical than us?'
"Your Highness, if we fight this way, the central army might be in grave danger, perhaps even..."
Kościuszko took a deep breath, calmly cutting him off:
"I believe Your Highness's plan is excellent. Honestly, this is the first time I've seen hope of preserving our eastern territories recently. I volunteer to command the central army."
Joseph gazed intently at the great Polish national hero.
Some heroes are shaped by the times, while others radiate dazzling brilliance regardless of the circumstances.
Without a doubt, Kościuszko belonged to the latter.
Historically, after Poland's fall, he refused to accept the king's surrender decree, going alone to the Lesser Poland region to rally the people to rebellion. Afterward, he led over ten thousand insurgents, armed with spears, axes, and even scythes, defeating Tsarist Russian encirclement campaigns multiple times and igniting the flames of uprising across all of Poland. One could say he was the Polish equivalent of Jiang Wei.
Although his uprising ultimately failed under the combined suppression of Russia, Prussia, and Austria, it penned one of the most valorous chapters in Poland's war of resistance.
Now, this national hero had once again stepped forward, Proceeding Without Hesitation to undertake the most perilous combat mission with a resolute, do-or-die conviction.
A Polish officer also rose to his feet:
"Come on, let's give the Russians a proper fight this time!"
Żywski also clenched his fists, declaring:
"I think it's worth a try too!"
The officers then collectively looked towards Prince Poniatowski.
The latter pondered for a moment before addressing Joseph: "Your Highness, with our current forces, it will likely be difficult to delay the Russian army. That means the Russians might have already breached Warsaw before our tactics can take effect."
Joseph nodded. "That's why you must expand your army as quickly as possible. Once the military academy in Warsaw is completed, the pace of expansion should accelerate.
"Furthermore, do not forget the ten million people of Poland.
"If you mobilize them, even without extensive training, they can still give the Russian army a considerable headache."
The Polish prince frowned, hesitating:
"We shouldn't place our hopes on ordinary people; they usually only care about their humble lives."
In fact, thanks to Joseph's previous arrangements, nationalism had spread widely throughout Poland over the past two years, and anti-invasion sentiment among the populace was extremely high. However, the prince was accustomed to an army supported by the nobility, so his lack of confidence was understandable. Joseph stated with conviction, "Please trust me, you will certainly be able to recruit the army you need. Moreover, in the most dire circumstances, you have another powerful 'weapon' at your disposal."
"What is it?"
Joseph glanced at the other Polish officers. "I'll tell you when the time is right."
The next afternoon.
From the VIP stands of the Royal Stadium in Paris, the announcer's voice reached Prince Poniatowski's ears:
"Natorski, 25 meters..."
He had no mind for the competition, his thoughts constantly circling the French General Staff's insane plan.
Poland might be destroyed after this war.
Or it might never recover from the ravages of war...
Just then, the referee on the field raised a wooden board displaying the results, and the commentators around immediately shouted:
"Discus throw results—American athlete Simmons 24.4 meters. Polish athlete Natorski 26 meters. Sardinian athlete..."
To ensure all spectators could hear, there were 12 commentators in the stadium, each responsible for a specific section.
Once the results were read, the commentators unanimously declared:
"The Polish athlete takes the final victory! Poland wins!"
Prince Poniatowski's body suddenly jolted, a wave of prideful passion surging through his chest.
"Poland, won?"
He murmured, 'Poland, won!'
"Yes!! They won!!!"
He slowly rose to his feet, the last trace of hesitation in his heart vanishing without a trace.
For victory, for that fleeting moment of pride as a Pole, let's duel the invaders!
...
Caribbean Sea.
Barbados.
"General, it's time for your dressing change," a military doctor called from outside the tent.
General Bland, commander of the British Expeditionary Force, glanced at the Frenchman sitting opposite him, then gave an annoyed look to his attendant:
"Tell him to shut up."
Then, he turned back to the French Special Envoy, saying, "Mr. Brissot, 100,000 Pound Sterling is a bit much for just a minor skirmish."
"And a ship, plus necessary supplies," Brissot corrected.
Yes, he was the negotiator.
He hadn't hidden the news of his arrival in Saint-Domingue on behalf of the French government, as it was publicly announced that he was there to suppress the abolitionist uprising.
Bland frowned. "You see, my army has already won; I can go to the Bahamas myself."
"These are the minimum conditions for my army to proceed to the Bahamas and help you quell the rebellion," Brissot stated calmly. "Our soldiers are taking a great risk by leaving Maqua Fortress."
Bland watched his confident, 'you're mine' expression, grinding his teeth in frustration.
However, he had no other option—his several thousand troops had been skirmishing with the Barbadian Black rebels for months. Although they had achieved a difficult victory, soldier casualties were severe, and their physical and mental energy were greatly depleted, requiring a long period of rest.
And the rebel council in the Bahamas was already about to elect a damn president!
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