Chapter 697: Civil War
Hęciny, a province in west-central Poland.
In a marching column of several hundred men, Herbert Schmitz hummed a tune he had recently learned:
"Poland is strong, forever strong!
As long as I live, Whatever the enemy steals from here, I shall reclaim with my blade!
Forward, Kosciuszko..."
It was the famous "Poland Is Not Yet Lost," which would later become the Polish national anthem. However, its author, Józef Wybicki, had this time named it "Poland Is Forever Strong," and words like "lost" had consequently disappeared from the lyrics.
Historically, Russian forces would have been besieging Warsaw by this time. But currently, Poland's defensive lines still held at its eastern border.
Schmitz marched forward to the beat of the military drum, his fingers fumbling with a letter in his pocket.
It was from his brother, sent last week, saying that he had already departed with his legion for Poland and should soon meet him, after which they would together join the glorious Crusader Holy War.
However, his officer status also restricted him.
Herbert Schmitz himself had run away from his hometown of Nowy Sącz to Poland over half a month ago and had obtained the rank of sergeant in the Holy Crusader Legion, now rushing to the battlefield.
His brother, on the other hand, had only just set out.
'Perhaps by the time my brother sees the Russians, I will have already been promoted to a similar rank as his,' Herbert Schmitz mused, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 'A Crusader Holy War, what a romantic experience!'
The army marched on for a considerable distance, estimated to be already in the far suburbs of Warsaw, when suddenly, several horses galloped up from the rear of the column. a Polish Major shouted loudly, "Wait! Stop!"
Major Ficot, the commander, immediately signaled to the standard-bearer, and the drumbeat awkwardly changed, causing the soldiers to halt.
The Polish Major and Ficot exchanged a few quiet words, and the latter's face instantly turned ashen. After a moment of hesitation, he jumped onto a large, chest-high rock and announced loudly in German, "Listen up, everyone, Major Charles Troque has something to tell you all."
All officers and soldiers immediately turned to look at him.
Troque excitedly spoke a few sentences in Polish.
Ficot frowned but quickly translated for him:
"It is with great regret that our King... ahem, declared war on Poland a few days ago."
A commotion instantly broke out among the soldiers.
Herbert Schmitz, in disbelief, loudly confirmed, "Sir, are you saying 'declared war' and not 'allied with'?"
"Yes, declared war," Ficot nodded, then cursed softly, "Damn it, this is utterly disgraceful!"
Major Troque continued, "At this moment, an Austrian army of twenty-five thousand is passing through Nowy Sącz and is expected to launch an attack on Krakow within four to seven days."
Ficot translated helplessly.
Meanwhile, his own unit erupted in chaos. "Why are they invading Poland?"
"This certainly can't be His Majesty the King's order, can it?"
"Which scoundrel dared to collude with the Russian heretics?"
"Is this how they repay friends who helped us defend Vienna?"
This unit was composed of volunteers who had rushed from Austria to support the Holy War in Poland. They had fully expected the Austrian government to send troops to help Poland resist Russia, only to be met with such news.
Troque first bowed deeply to the crowd, then said, "Krakow has almost no troops stationed there; we never anticipated Vienna would attack it.
"Therefore, Warsaw has no choice but to dispatch all available soldiers to Krakow. And you are the most experienced unit here. On behalf of His Majesty the King, I implore you to help us defend Krakow.
"For the love of God!"
Herbert Schmitz, his face grim, stepped forward and declared loudly, "I'll go!"
Immediately, others shouted in response, "I'll go too."
"I want to teach those idiots a lesson!"
"And me..."
Half an hour later, this unit of over 800 men turned southwest, heading for Krakow.
Krakow.
Outside Czepinia, south of the Tarnowskie Góry silver mine.
An Austrian artilleryman sluggishly shoved a shell into the muzzle. The loader casually rammed it a few times with a ramrod, and then the igniter lit the fuse.
With a roar, the shell arced and flew into the bushes to the east.
The artillery company commander glanced through his telescope but didn't reprimand the gunner. Instead, he plopped down on an ammunition box, letting his subordinates do as they pleased.
Yes, they only realized they were fighting Poles once they crossed into Polish territory.
Before that, except for senior and mid-level officers, Austrian soldiers believed they were going to the eastern front in Poland to fight the Russians.
Soon, General Wurmser's guards arrived at the artillery position, acting as overseers.
The general was furious, as the eight cannons here had been firing all morning, yet only one shell had struck the Polish positions.
Indeed, that unlucky fellow who had hit the Poles had previously been severely rebuked by his comrades. He was somewhat unfairly blamed, his aim simply being poor.
After several artillerymen received lashes, a breach finally appeared in the Polish lines.
Wurmser then directly deployed the Royal Grenadier Battalion, leading the charge into the Polish defense line.
The Polish army, clad in military uniforms of various styles and colors, quickly retreated, completely abandoning the town.
Wurmser observed the situation through his telescope and ordered the cavalry to pursue.
He had initially expected little resistance, as the Polish forces in Krakow were supposed to be only a few hundred strong.
However, there were at least two thousand soldiers blocking them outside the town just now.
"General, it seems they are merely a hastily assembled rabble of Poles," his staff officer said, lowering his own telescope. "Perhaps we can seize the silver mine tomorrow."
Wurmser nodded. "Order the troops to enter the town. The technical institute there will certainly excite the soldiers."
He was extremely dissatisfied with the day's battle; the Royal German Infantry Regiment had been repelled twice by that rabble.
About an hour later, as he and his officers were discussing how to quickly secure all of Krakow, several cannon shots suddenly rang out in the distance.
He frowned. He hadn't ordered the artillery to participate in the pursuit, so why would they have gone so far?
A moment later, two panic-stricken cavalrymen arrived, reporting, "General, Major Moret was ambushed west of the town; three cavalry squadrons were routed..."
Wurmser's expression stiffened. Just as he was about to order the troops to fall back, more skirmishers reported enemy cavalry sightings on the left flank.
'This rabble actually has cavalry?' Wurmser suddenly felt that the situation was not good.
And his premonition was confirmed.
The next day, the Austrian army engaged in a tough struggle with the Polish forces in Czepinia.
What Wurmser hadn't anticipated was that there were over 2,800 Polish soldiers there.
To be precise, only about 800 of them were mercenaries recruited from Italy and Switzerland; the rest were patrol teams from the mining company, as well as armed miners.
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