Chapter 784: The Army Reaches Milan
Victor immediately shook his head. "No, this would waste the opportunity we created by crossing the Great St. Bernard Pass.
"Our greatest advantage right now is that the enemy hasn't realized their soft underbelly is exposed to our cannons.
"We should attack Milan immediately; that's the core of the entire battlefield.
"I believe Milan should have few enemy troops defending it at this moment.
"As for General Dumouriez, we should trust his command abilities; he will surely hold Genoa!"
Marmont raised his voice. "The Army of Italy will soon lose its supplies. No matter how brave they are, they can't repel the enemy on empty stomachs!"
The two then began to argue, but neither mentioned Turin. In the minds of the French officers, Sardinia was essentially like a bonus gift. Who would go to great lengths for a mere gift?
A moment later, both looked toward Napoleon.
Colonel Buonaparte's strategic planning abilities were evident to all; ultimately, it was up to him to make the decision.
"This, how is this possible?"
"Commander, I'm afraid there won't be enough time..."
Napoleon picked up a small wooden stick and tapped Milan on the map. "What do you think Melas will do if our army captures Milan?"
Victor mused, "He'll likely dispatch troops to reinforce it."
"Exactly." Napoleon nodded. "This will greatly relieve the pressure on Genoa. And we can choose multiple positions to intercept Melas's reinforcements, thereby seizing the initiative on the battlefield in one fell swoop!"
Marmont cautiously said, "But General Dumouriez will have difficulty getting supplies..."
Napoleon waved the wooden stick in his hand. "The quartermaster will procure the necessary supplies for the general from the citizens of Genoa. I think he'll certainly be able to hold out for two months."
In truth, the thought buried deep in his heart couldn't be spoken aloud: that if Dumouriez were to die in battle or be captured, Napoleon would rightfully become the Commander-in-Chief of the Army of Italy.
Once the war was won, the credit for the Italian campaign would all be his. At that point, he would at least be promoted to Major General, and even a direct promotion to Lieutenant General wouldn't be impossible.
Seeing Marmont still seemed to hesitate to speak, Napoleon continued, "The enemy forces besieging Genoa appear numerous, but among them are twenty thousand Sardinian troops. You witnessed their combat effectiveness in Toulon; there's no need to worry about them at all.
"Once Melas transfers some Austrian troops back to Milan, General Dumouriez might even have a chance to break out. All problems will solve themselves."
As he spoke, he forcefully waved the small wooden stick in his hand as if it were a sharp sword. "Alright, let the soldiers rest this afternoon. Tomorrow morning, we'll set off for beautiful Milan. Countless riches and women await us there!"
...
Inside Milan.
Beaulieu shook his head incessantly, taking several minutes to recall if he had ever been insufficiently devout during prayer, because he felt as though he were cursed...
Otherwise, why would the French always suddenly appear before him, as if they had sprung from beneath the earth?
'This was definitely a terrible curse!'
Yes, half an hour ago, the Hussars reported to him that over ten thousand French troops were rapidly approaching Milan, only 20 miles away.
Ever since he had been repeatedly routed by inexplicably appearing French forces in Toulon, his emphasis on reconnaissance had increased severalfold, with a cavalry squadron constantly scouting the vicinity.
Yet, this French army had still appeared eerily!
This was Milan, their secure rear base.
Apart from the Alps, only the Austrian-Sardinian Coalition Forces were in the vicinity. Where on earth had these Frenchmen come from?
He made the sign of the cross over his chest, cutting off his wild thoughts, then glanced at the map on the wall before looking at the officers beside him.
Several officers lowered their heads. A profound silence filled the room.
Milan did have over eight thousand soldiers, but they all knew these troops had just suffered a crushing defeat at Toulon. Their morale was extremely low, and nearly half of them hadn't even completed reorganization.
Such an army, facing a numerically superior French force – perhaps even the very same men who had recently defeated them – could not possibly guarantee combat effectiveness.
At the French army's marching speed, they would launch an attack on Milan, the Empire's core city in Italy, in three days at most.
Just then, a tall colonel rose and declared loudly, "Marshal, the Po River is currently in flood season. As long as we hold the Valenza crossing, we can effectively block the French army.
"Even if Valenza falls, we can retreat and defend the Ticino River. Although there's no strategic terrain here, if we destroy the boats along the banks in advance, we can still delay the French advance.
"I believe it's entirely possible for us to hold out for 20 days until General Melas's reinforcements arrive."
Beaulieu hadn't expected his generals to be so dispirited at that moment. Colonel Liptay, a cavalry colonel, was the only one brimming with fighting spirit.
He carefully considered Liptay's plan. At present, sending troops forward to defend along the river seemed to be the only option.
He certainly couldn't just abandon Milan and retreat. His Imperial Majesty would undoubtedly throw him into prison without hesitation, bypassing even a court-martial.
He took a deep breath and told Liptay, "Then, you will be fully responsible for the defense of the Valenza crossing. The infantry regiments and skirmisher battalions will also be placed under your command."
"Yes, Marshal!" Liptay snapped to attention. "Thank you for your trust, I will hold out until reinforcements arrive!"
On the west bank of the Po River.
Napoleon watched the surging river water flow past him, then bent down, picked up a small twig, and tossed it into the current.
As soon as the twig touched the surface, the powerful current buffeted it back and forth, and within seconds, it vanished.
He couldn't help but frown slightly.
The reconnaissance unit that had forced a river crossing moments ago reported that the Austrian army had established artillery positions on the opposite bank and appeared ready to blow up the bridges at any moment.
He was confident that with appropriate artillery support, a frontal assault could seize the crossing on the other side of the river in three to five days.
But that would surely result in heavy casualties.
It wasn't that he sympathized with the soldiers; it was simply that if his forces suffered too many losses, he might not have enough troops to face Melas in a decisive battle when the general returned with reinforcements.
Napoleon observed the Austrian forces on the opposite bank carefully through his telescope again, then suddenly turned to his chief of staff. "Have the soldiers line up along the riverbank, and keep the drums beating. Oh, make sure they stay out of range of the enemy's cannons."
The latter inquired, "Which regiments are you referring to?"
"All soldiers," Napoleon stated, "except for the cavalry battalions and grenadiers. Make sure they look as imposing as possible."
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