Chapter 902: The Battle of Annihilation at Ingolstadt
Western Austria.
Linz.
"Your speech was truly magnificent." Ney tipped his hat toward Moreau. "If you hadn't joined the army, you certainly would have become an outstanding lawyer."
At nine o'clock that morning, after firing a dozen or so artillery rounds, their army had easily occupied this major border stronghold.
Afterward, Moreau had stood in the central plaza before a crowd of Linz citizens and delivered an impassioned, stirring speech to his soldiers about "seizing Vienna."
"I appreciate the compliment. I did indeed study law at the University of Rennes once..."
He curled his lip slightly. "Though I never managed to obtain a degree. Well, the greatest gain from my university days was leading my classmates in brawls against those commoners... er, I mean the citizens living near the campus. It was excellent practice for my tactical command skills."
"You truly are a genius, to have learned how to command an army from street fighting!"
"Ah, let us speak no more of that." Moreau cleared his throat. "Please assemble the troops immediately. We must capture Perg before nightfall."
Perg was a small town to the east of Linz, and it sat directly on the primary route toward Vienna.
"Of course not." Moreau gave him a sly smile. "The Bavarians certainly won't be moving that fast anyway. Pushing further inland will only make our performance more convincing."
Four hours later, Moreau's Legion entered Perg. After a brief collection of food supplies, they departed from the eastern side of the town.
At dusk, the French army abruptly turned around, racing back toward Bavaria across the desolate plains.
...
Central Bavaria.
Ingolstadt.
General Dörnberg, the commander-in-chief of the Bavarian forces, watched with a relaxed smile as his soldiers herded a group of captured Baden troops out of the city.
He signaled his staff to bring him a map and began estimating the French army's progress for his officers, arranging his defensive deployments.
According to the latest reports from Vienna, France's Moreau Legion had only realized their retreat was cut off after penetrating as far as the western outskirts of St. Pölten. They were now retreating in a state of panic.
St. Pölten was a small city located less than 40 kilometers from Vienna.
Prior to this, Austria's General Auersperg had already led the Vienna Legion and other units, totaling over seven thousand men, westward.
They were expected to reach Regensburg, east of Ingolstadt, in three days.
Once they arrived, the combined Bavarian-Austrian forces would only need to wait for the French to flee back here before instantly launching a pincer attack.
Just as the Bavarian soldiers were leisurely gathering their spoils of war and preparing to move to their designated defensive positions, a sudden roar of artillery echoed from the south.
Dörnberg frowned and turned to a nearby cavalry officer. "It is likely a small group of French stragglers attempting a desperate raid. Go and see what the situation is."
"At once, General."
However, before the officer could depart, two cavalry scouts responsible for the outer perimeter galloped toward them in a state of panic, shouting at the top of their lungs:
"A massive French force has appeared to the south!"
"Massive?" Dörnberg's gaze sharpened. "How many?"
"It is not yet clear, General, but there are at least seven or eight thousand!"
Dörnberg stood frozen in shock. "How is that possible? Moreau's Legion should at most be passing Passau right now. Where did these Frenchmen spring from?"
He had no way of knowing that Moreau had only made a brief appearance at Perg before immediately conducting a forced march back to Bavaria. As for the "French army" reported near St. Pölten, it was merely a single company of dragoons he had sent to fire blanks outside the city.
A nearby officer asked urgently, "General, what should we do now?"
Dörnberg pondered for a moment, judging that this French force was likely coming from Baden to clear the supply lines.
He had over twenty thousand soldiers on his side. He should utilize his numerical advantage to annihilate these Frenchmen as quickly as possible, preventing a situation where he would be squeezed from both sides when Moreau eventually returned.
With this in mind, he immediately issued orders to his officers: "The Freising and Lanzhat Legions are to deploy on the flanks. The cavalry battalion will strike the enemy's rear along the Danube. The Munich Janissaries will handle the frontal assault."
"We must break them before they can finish their defensive deployment!"
...
Moreau listened to the reports from his scouts, constantly marking his map.
Soon, he turned to look at Ney. "It seems the Bavarians intend to launch an all-out offensive against us?"
Ney raised an eyebrow. "God be praised, that couldn't be better. I was worried they would hole up inside Ingolstadt and fight a defensive war."
"So, shall we focus on breaking their left wing or their right?"
He possessed absolute confidence in defeating the Bavarian army in an open battle, even if the enemy outnumbered them by several thousand.
Among the troops they had brought this time were several thousand men from the elite Royal Third Infantry Division and the Royal Artillery Battalion.
Having observed the daily training of these direct-subordinate legions in Alsace, he knew they were the elite of the elite. To them, dealing with the Bavarian army—which was considered second-rate even within Germany—was like an eagle preying on defenseless chicks.
"No, do not be in such a hurry." Moreau held him back, shaking his head with a smile. "Except for the dragoons, the entire army is to retreat two kilometers."
"What?"
"Why do you think Dörnberg is taking the initiative to attack?"
"Because..."
"Because he believes we are no match for him," Moreau explained. "He likely thinks we are some ragtag unit and hasn't bothered with proper reconnaissance."
Ney truly hadn't expected the enemy commander's competence to be so abysmal, but upon reflection, it seemed the only logical explanation.
In truth, while commanders like Wurmser and the Duke of Brunswick were slightly inferior when compared to the "Golden Generation" of geniuses in the French army, they would have been considered legendary figures in any smaller nation.
A man like Dörnberg represented the standard level of command for a minor power.
Moreau's orders were quickly relayed, and the French army began a disciplined, orderly withdrawal.
The Bavarian army, convinced that the French were outnumbered, saw the retreat and immediately assumed the enemy had been broken.
The Bavarian left and right wings began to scramble, racing one another to give chase, fearing that others would snatch the glory.
The circling cavalry battalion completely abandoned their formation, driving their horses forward at a breakneck pace with no regard for their stamina.
In short order, the Bavarian flanks became disconnected from the main body. The faster right wing, the Freising Legion, was particularly overextended, having chased all the way to the northern bank of the Danube.
Moreau watched the chaotic Bavarian formation through his telescope. The usual playboy smirk vanished from his face, replaced by an expression of extreme gravity as he spoke to his messenger:
"Order the Third and Fourth Skirmisher Regiments to launch a counter-attack against the enemy's right wing."
"Ney's Legion is to cut between the enemy's center and right, then wheel north to execute an encirclement."
"Oh, and tell the dragoons they may begin their move as well..."
On the battlefield, the French army that had been "fleeing" just moments ago suddenly halted.
The Bavarian cavalry charging at the front were the first to be met by a wall of French bayonets and lethal volleys of musketry. Moments later, the disciplined ranks of the French cavalry appeared like ghosts behind their flank.
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