From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

On the battlefield, the exchange of fire between the two armies continued.

Some frontline officers of the Sardinian army soon discovered something unusual, because the distance between the two armies was only about twenty meters. These officers soon noticed:

In the Corsican army's array, there were always about twenty soldiers outside the line, walking around and observing behind the array. From time to time they would stop and pick up the muskets in their hands to shoot.

At first, they did not care about this detail and regarded it as a sign of lack of discipline on the part of the Corsican army.

However, as more and more lines experienced command confusion, the loaded soldiers raised their muskets, but did not receive the order to fire. Only then did other officers realize that something was wrong.

Of course, with the deadly snipers from these precision shooters, the frontline officers who discovered the anomaly would no longer have the opportunity to report their findings after a whimper.

Even among the lines of the Sardinian army, some soldiers who took over the command of the fallen officers had just opened their mouths to issue a few orders, and were immediately ruthlessly shot through the forehead by a bullet.

"Bah, bah. Ugh."

Lawrence lay on the ground, resisting the vomiting sensation in his esophagus, and spat out a mouth full of dust, which he had just eaten when he lay down to avoid a round of shelling.

"Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte!"

Major Cui Farley rushed up from behind and pulled Lawrence back some distance, leaving the front line of the firefight.

"Oh my God, how could you run to the front line!" Major Cui Farley asked with a frown as he helped pat the dirt on Lawrence's body.

Lawrence waved his hand and whispered quickly:

"I must appear on the front line. Only if I am here, these soldiers will sacrifice their lives for me. Without talking about this, how is the war going?"

Lawrence, who had just been commanding the precision shooters on the front line, was not clear about the overall situation on the battlefield.

"It's much better than expected. Many lines of the Sardinian army are in chaos, and even several companies that directly exchanged fire with us have begun to retreat."

Major Cui Farley said with a serious face:

"However, our losses are not small. We cannot continue to waste them like this. But if Silva's troops participate in the battle, we may really have a chance to win this battle."

"I see."

Lawrence stood up and signaled Major Trifari to return to his post, then turned around and called a precision shooter from the array.

"Sir, what's the order?" the shooter said urgently to Lawrence while holding the ramrod to load ammunition.

Lawrence patted him on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

"Yes, sir."

Although the shooter looked a little strange, he accepted Lawrence's order without hesitation.

As a former soldier of the 4th Battalion, he was used to following orders, and only those from Lawrence.

Lawrence nodded, and then ran quickly toward Colonel Silva's rear army.

"Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte, the battle situation is very anxious."

Colonel Silva sat on the horse, looked at Lawrence with a complicated expression, and said in a deep voice.

In his plan, he thought that the several hundred people in the special camp would be defeated in a very short time, and then he could lead his cronies to retreat on horseback, successfully completing the goal that Pauli had given him.

However, the situation on the battlefield was somewhat beyond Colonel Silva's expectations.

"Colonel, it's time for your rear troops to join the battlefield."

Lawrence looked up at Silva and said calmly.

"Don't worry."

Colonel Silva shook the reins impatiently and said forcefully:

"Now is not the best time. You go back to your position first."

Lawrence sneered, stared directly at Colonel Silva and said:

"Not yet? When are you going to use your troops? When you get back to Ajaccio?"

"you!"

Colonel Silva's veins were suddenly exposed. The surrounding soldiers and non-commissioned officers all heard Lawrence's words. They were also very dissatisfied with Colonel Silva's behavior of watching the fire from afar.

After all, when Lawrence gave a speech to his subordinates just now, they all listened.

Now Lawrence's soldiers were fighting bloody battles with the enemy two hundred yards away, but they stood idly by in the rear like the cowards and cowards Lawrence said. This made the soldiers of the Southern Army very ashamed and regretful.

If such things were spread, it would be a lifelong shame for them.

"Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte! This is a battlefield, do you dare to disobey orders on the battlefield?!"

Colonel Silva angrily drew his riding crop, pointed at Lawrence and shouted.

"I'm just making a suggestion to you." Lawrence said still expressionlessly.

"Proposal? I said you are disobeying orders! I will deal with you according to military law now!"

Colonel Silva shouted angrily, stretched out his hand and waved the riding crop in his hand, flicking his wrist towards Lawrence.

The thumb-thick riding crop whirred in the air, and a bloody whip mark was about to appear on Lawrence's body.

Colonel Silva suddenly trembled, and the riding crop in his hand lost its strength and flew away. His eyes gradually faded, and he stood on the horse like a wooden sculpture.

Before the soldiers could recover, they saw blood gushing out from a small hole in Colonel Silva's heart.

"Colonel Silva!" Lawrence yelled in a pretense of panic and said immediately:

"Colonel Silva was hit by a stray bullet! Where is the military doctor? Get him to first aid quickly!"

With that said, Lawrence took a step forward and pulled Silva off the horse. His whole body fell heavily to the ground with a thump.

With everyone staring blankly, Lawrence stretched out his hand to feel Silva's breath, and then said sadly:

"Colonel Silva has left us, but we have no time to grieve. We are still fighting with the Sardinian Army. We must use victory to comfort his spirit in heaven. Now, as the highest-ranking military officer present, I will take over. Commander of the Southern Army, do you have any comments?"

"you you!"

Colonel Silva was still on the ground and was struggling to sit up.

Lawrence glanced at him, quickly stepped on him with his feet, and pinned Silva to the ground until he could no longer react.

"Damn, those losers! What's going on!"

Colonel Butland anxiously looked at the situation on the battlefield with his binoculars, and couldn't stop cursing.

According to his battle plan, as long as the two battalions on the flanks surrounded the Corsican Army, the Corsican Army would immediately collapse under fire from three sides.

However, after the two battalions arrived at the designated position, they did not encircle them for a long time. Instead, they stayed in place as if they had not received the order.

And all the messengers sent by Colonel Bartland himself never returned.

Even just now, Colonel Bartland was forced to send out all his adjutants to convey the order, but they have not come back yet.

On the battlefield at this time, the rear troops of the Corsican Army came into the battle with reinforcements from both wings, instantly scattering the two battalions that Colonel Butland planned to encircle.

Because the two battalions on the flanks did not receive orders to attack or continue to advance, they did not react until the Corsican army rushed in front of them and fired several rounds, and hurriedly transformed the square formation into a line formation to fight.

"How could this happen?"

Colonel Bartland stared at the picture in the lens blankly. Not only were the troops on the flanks attacked by the Corsican rear forces, but even the three battalions engaged in frontal fire gradually showed signs of decline.

"These pigs! They have better equipment and more people. Why, why are they retreating!"

Colonel Butland threw the telescope to the ground angrily and roared angrily.

But there was no one around him who could respond to him. Even all his lieutenants were sent to the battlefield and have not returned yet.

"I want to see for myself what happened on the battlefield!"

Colonel Bartland could no longer suppress his anger, swung the reins hard and galloped towards the battlefield.