From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

March 7, 1770, outside a natural harbor in the south of Corsica.

Due to the weakness of the overall national strength, the Corsican navy is also quite weak. It can at best clean up the surrounding pirates or smuggling ships. Once it encounters the regular navy, it can only retreat to its home port of Ajaccio.

Therefore, these three thousand people, the vanguard of the Sardinian army, easily landed on this natural harbor from Sardinia.

After the Sardinian army landed, they cut trees to clear a road outside the harbor and established a simple camp as a bridgehead for subsequent operations.

At this time, on the morning of March 7, in the camp of the Sardinian Army.

The commander of this vanguard force, Colonel Bartland, was sitting in his tent, discussing the next plan of action with several adjutants.

Spread in front of them was a very crude map of southern Corsica, snatched from a nearby hunter.

Although the map's lines are crude and rough, the directions and information about the general locations are basically correct.

"Well, according to my intelligence, a Corsican force was sent to the south for reinforcements a few days ago."

Colonel Bartram pointed to Bonifacio's position on the map and said to everyone:

"Then they must be stationed in Bonifacio at this moment."

Several adjutants and staff nodded, no one would comment on such an obvious matter.

Among the few cities in the south, only Bonifacio has the most rugged terrain and is a giant natural fortress.

Colonel Bartram continued:

"Then we must now prepare to besiege Bonifacio."

A staff officer raised his hand to express his dissent, then pointed at Ajaccio and asked:

"Can't we bypass Bonifacio? Go directly north and attack Ajaccio."

The remaining adjutants and staff members also nodded in approval. In their eyes, the main force of the Corsican army was still fighting against the Genoese army in the north, and their march in the south would not be hindered by anything.

However, Colonel Bartland sighed, looked away from the map, and said slowly:

"It's militarily feasible, but politically it's not."

Looking at everyone's puzzled expressions, Colonel Butland added:

"The British warships are still in Ajaccio, and it is said that the Corsicans and the British are carrying out certain negotiations. The king's court is still discussing whether to risk hostility against the British and attack Ajaccio. We Don’t act rashly until you get the order.”

A few people nodded in understanding, and someone said casually:

"Damn the British, if they hadn't hindered us, we would have landed in Ajaccio."

The others nodded in agreement and couldn't help but start to complain.

"Okay, okay."

Colonel Bartland patted the table impatiently, pointed at the map and said:

"Our goal is to control southern Corsica first. Even if we don't attack the city of Ajaccio, we must capture the silver mine. The first priority right now is to control the fortress of Bonifacio."

"Yes." Everyone nodded and approved Colonel Butland's plan.

At this moment, an officer suddenly broke into the tent. His pants were still stained with mud and dew, as if he had just come back from outside.

Colonel Bartland frowned and looked at the intruding officer, and recognized that he was the commander of a reconnaissance company under his command, so he asked in a deep voice:

"Did you notice something happened?"

"Yes, Colonel."

The company commander took a breath and said in a strange tone:

"I received a report from my men that a Corsican soldier was approaching us."

"The Corsican Army? Are they not hiding in Bonifacio and showing up near us?"

General Bartland's eyes widened and he asked in disbelief:

"How many are there and how far apart are they?"

Several people present knew that the main force of Corsica was still in the north, so the troops appearing here could only be the southern army stationed in Bonifacio.

The company commander took out a piece of paper, glanced at it twice, and reported:

"There are no more than a thousand people, and they are at least two hours away from our camp now."

"Not more than a thousand?"

The company commander's words immediately made several people in the tent look at each other, and then a burst of ridicule broke out:

"You didn't hear that we were coming and came here to surrender, right?"

"Don't you think that a group of bison are the Corsican army? How could they take the initiative to attack?"

General Bartland nodded to the reconnaissance company commander, indicating that he could go out, and then said seriously to his subordinates:

"Okay, no matter what, don't take it lightly. Inform all battalions to assemble immediately. Leave one battalion to garrison while the rest of the troops prepare to march."

The terrain around Bonifacio is a gentle alluvial plain with few hills and hills.

Standing on the grassland and looking far into the distance, if the weather is good, you can even see things several kilometers away.

"Report! Colonel Silva, we have visual sight of the enemy."

In the array of the Southern Legion, a soldier pointed at the small black dots that were constantly moving on the line between heaven and earth in the distance, and reported to Colonel Silva on horseback.

Colonel Silva squinted at the distance and said to Lawrence beside him:

"Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte, the Sardinian army is approaching us, we need to start arranging our formation."

Lawrence glanced at him, and like several other officers, he jumped off the horse and followed Colonel Silva's instructions.

"Ahem, I plan to divide the army into two parts, the front army and the rear army."

Colonel Silva staggered off his horse and ordered the officers:

"The front army is composed of Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte's special battalion, and is also commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte, responsible for direct operations against the enemy. As for other soldiers, they are classified as the rear army, commanded by me, and responsible for supporting operations. Understand. Yet?"

"you!"

Major Trifali stared directly at Colonel Silva and took an angry step forward. He knew without thinking that this so-called rear army was set up to prepare to retreat at any time and betray the task force battalion to the enemy.

"Trifari!" Lawrence frowned and stretched out his hand to stop Major Trifari, then turned to Colonel Silva and nodded:

"I understand, our front army will set up the formation first."

After saying that, Lawrence pulled Major Trifali and Lieutenant Seth onto their horses and led his troops to continue moving forward.

"Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte, you can't fail to see that that bastard Silva is just preparing to slip away when we are at a disadvantage."

On horseback, Major Trifari anxiously said to Lawrence:

"Damn it, you can even see the enemy's shadow, and they are still trying to plot against us."

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Seth also said worriedly:

"We alone can't sustain it for long under the firepower of the other party."

Lawrence rode his horse and walked quickly, turned around and waved to Colonel Silva with a smile, then turned around and regained his stern expression, and said in a deep voice:

"Don't forget, it's not the numbers that allow us to defeat the enemy. Moreover, their rear troops will join the battle when the time comes."

"Will you join the fight? Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte, are you sure?"

Major Trifali asked with some concern even though he had great trust in Lawrence.

Lawrence turned his head slightly, glanced at Silva with cold eyes, and deeply remembered his appearance, then looked at Major Trifali, nodded softly and said:

"If something happens to our dear Colonel Silva on the battlefield, then I will have no choice but to take over the command at the last moment and be forced to take over the command of the Southern Army."