The War Court and Lap Pillow, Austria's Mandate of Heaven

Chapter 1793 The way out
The city's narrow, labyrinthine streets became a meat grinder, with soldiers from both sides crammed together and gunfire erupting like popping beans.

Lead bullets pierced the air, shattering wooden planks and glass, embedding themselves in walls and flesh.

Flesh and blood, along with ruins, formed a new city wall. If the Holy Alliance wanted to continue advancing, they would have to pay a bloody price or wait for artillery and rockets to arrive from the rear.

However, the British and Osman forces behind the walls were not willing to sit idly by. They would first drive out the civilians carrying various furniture and quilts to attract fire, and then attack from the other side.

On those streets filled with the smoke and blood, a group of Ottoman civilians marched, some carrying various door panels, pot lids, and screens, others wrapped in layers of blankets.

The scene was bizarre and absurd. The Holy Alliance forces stormed into the city without hesitation, following an officer's order.

"shooting!"

The lead bullets easily pierced through those "shields," and a large portion of the strange formation immediately fell.

However, before the Holy Alliance soldiers could catch their breath, a large number of allied troops charged out from the other side of the street.

A chaotic battle was about to break out, and the dense, heavy fire from old-fashioned muskets made the entire street seem as if it were covered by smoke bombs.

When the smoke cleared, only scattered furniture and the corpses of both sides remained, and the cobblestone road was covered with blood and the eyes of soldiers who died with their eyes wide open.

The originally chaotic and noisy sounds gradually subsided, but were soon drowned out by deafening explosions and shouts of killing.

The two sides resumed their standoff and fighting on the streets, just like a never-ending drama.

A shepherd newly conscripted from Anatolia might have been killed by a single bullet before he even knew how to use a rifle.

A young Viennese man of noble birth, full of dreams, and well-equipped with extensive military training, was crushed and buried by a crumbling wall as soon as he entered the city.

Here, whether it be Russian serfs, St. Petersburg literary giants, or rogues and gentlemen from England, or other peoples of the Austrian Empire, all lives are equal.

On this battlefield involving millions of people, individual lives are as insignificant as dust and sand, and their deaths can hardly cause any ripples.

In reality, due to certain special reasons, the Holy Alliance could not arbitrarily destroy the city, so they could only launch attacks from relatively fixed locations.

The British, who were in charge of the defensive operations, were well aware of this, so they had prepared defensive measures for these locations well in advance.

It might seem that the British had the upper hand, but there were at least a thousand marked points throughout the city, making it impossible for the defenders to defend against them.

Franz did not lack countermeasures; the Austrian Empire's airship forces focused their attacks on areas heavily defended by the Allied forces.

The airship force will blast a death tunnel.

Of course, the British also dispatched their own airship force, and the two armies were in complete chaos, both in the air and on the ground.

Both sides also had their own air defense capabilities. The British were researching anti-aircraft guns, while the Austrian Empire was focusing on anti-aircraft rockets.

The main reason why the Austrian Empire chose a completely different strategy from that of Britain was Austria's advanced rocket technology.

The Austrian Empire's rockets were superior to artillery in both range and power. Although they lacked accuracy, their faster rate of fire made it easier to form a fire network for saturation attacks, which completely compensated for the lack of accuracy.

However, the situation in the city was too chaotic, and the so-called advanced weapons did not bring about much change. Most of the time, the two sides were still fighting on numbers and will to fight.

Even though the Austrian Empire's army had mostly received specialized urban warfare training, their effectiveness in actual combat was not as high as their exchange ratio in skirmishes or mobile warfare.

Austrian soldiers often achieved an exchange ratio of 1 to 2 or higher, and even higher if Russian cannon fodder were sent to scout ahead.

But the officers of the Austrian Empire still seemed to be suffering heavy losses. An elite unit lost a third of its men in just a few hours, and small units disappeared en masse in previous battles, which was unheard of.

The losses were greater for the British and Ottomans than for the Austrian Empire. Dust fell in the Allied command post. Austrian rockets spared no one except for a few special buildings such as the Hagia Sophia.

Moreover, the so-called "no bombing" only meant no intentional attacks; as the fighting became increasingly fierce, the Austrian army's moral bottom line gradually decreased.

"Report: We've just recaptured one street, but lost three."

Colonel Jones had thick bandages wrapped around his forehead and palms, the original white bandages now stained grayish-brown with blood and dirt.

"Perhaps we should stop this pointless war."

Although General McClellan did not explicitly state his surrender, the other generals were well aware of it, and this was the common sentiment among most of them.

"You're right, we've lost too many men! My entire regiment is disappearing en masse, it's outrageous! So many good young men shouldn't be dying here!"

The other generals echoed this sentiment.

"We have put up a valiant resistance! We have fulfilled our obligations as allies! Britain still needs us! We cannot waste our lives here!"

"You're surrendering?"

The Ottoman officer in charge of liaison sneered at General Ingrab, the British provisional supreme commander of the battlefield, who stood to the side.

General Ingrubb was ashen-faced. He actually supported surrender, but Viscount Stratford demanded that they continue to resist and try to create a miracle.

If a miracle cannot be created, then at least we should make a show of force to secure better negotiating terms.

General Ingrab now regrets his decision, as the losses from the war are far greater than he had previously imagined.

The most significant issues were morale and discipline. The lack of officers rendered the command system almost ineffective, and the collapse would have been even more severe had it not been in urban warfare.

"Colonel Jones, what do you think? Should we continue fighting?"

Why ask a colonel?

The Ottoman liaison officer asked, puzzled.

“Listen, Ottoman. Colonel Jones is a tough guy. If he were your enemy, you would be dead.”

Seeing that the liaison officer had shut his mouth, General Ingrab said.

"You continue, Colonel Jones."

"Yes, General. Please forgive my bluntness, but this is not a battle, but a massacre. Every house and every street in the city is now being filled with the lives of both sides."

The Austrians are now trying to destroy every building they see, then drag the people inside out and shoot them, and then stab them twice as they pass by.

They were initially willing to accept the soldiers' surrender, until a man in a white robe detonated explosives among the Austrians.

The Austrians now completely ignore surrendering soldiers; they'll just shove a bloody hole in their foreheads.

Go outside and look at the rubble still smoldering and the blood that hasn't cooled down yet, and you'll know I'm not lying.

If they keep fighting, they'll kill us all. I haven't seen any Russians, but they're only getting more savage and beastly, even worse than the newspapers portray.

"Thank you for your service, Colonel Jones. Now, let's begin the vote. Those who agree to surrender, please raise your hands." All the generals present raised their hands. Previously, some might have been unwilling to surrender due to the honor of nobility and military service, but after witnessing the brutality of street fighting, they had all changed their minds.

Even without personally witnessing the ferocity of the battle through binoculars, they could already sense the bloodshed and terror from the battle reports sent by various units.

The frequent loss of entire units, coupled with a large number of officers killed in action, would move even the most hard-hearted person, because those officers were nobles, not commoners with no background or connections.

Families that have lost their heirs will not let it go easily, and even a second son does not mean that they have no feelings for his family.

Although blood revenge has long been prohibited by law, true revenge has never stopped.

Those nobles not only had the audacity, but also the power to make them pay the price. Even if the generals, with their high positions and power, couldn't afford to pay, those people would still seek out their families and friends.
"So everyone has made a decision. Let's gather the team now and find a white flag. Hopefully, it's not too late."

General Ingrab sighed and said.

"You can't do that! Who gave you permission to do that?!"

Before the liaison officer could finish speaking, he was shot in the head.

“Well done, Colonel Jones. We don’t have orders from London, but we’ll all die here before they arrive.”

As the supreme land commander of this expeditionary force, I have a duty to lead you to survival.

Execute the command now!

"As ordered!"

As mentioned earlier, it wouldn't be easy for the British to surrender at this point, because the Ottomans had previously used suicide soldiers carrying explosives to feign surrender, then shouted "God above!" in the crowd.

This tactic initially dealt a heavy blow to the Austrian army, which had been advancing smoothly, but now the British have to pay the price for the Ottomans' actions.

Austrians simply did not trust those who waved white flags, and officers were even more decisive in firing than soldiers.

"They came from the other side waving a white flag."

"Who cares what kind of flag it is! What if it's a bomb? Survival is the most important thing! Fire it!"

As for the Russians, they didn't care about any of that. After Nicholas I understood the pros and cons, he ordered the Russian army to annihilate all the heretics in Constantinople.

The Tsar not only wanted to eliminate the combined British and Ottoman forces, but he also didn't want to spare the Ottoman civilians in the city.

While Austria, Britain, and the Ottoman Empire were all complaining bitterly, only the Russian army's pace seemed the most normal.

To be honest, the Russian attacking forces also suffered heavy casualties, but the Russian army was able to handle these losses completely. Moreover, with the Tsar himself in command, the Russian soldiers' combat efficiency was actually higher than usual.

So while Austrian generals reported their losses, looking dejected, Nicholas I received reports that everything was going smoothly and proceeding according to plan.

This made Albrecht's eyelids twitch, while Nicholas I seemed somewhat embarrassed, because he had actually witnessed the battles between the two sides on the front lines, and the Austrian army's fighting strength was clearly superior to that of the Russian army.

Nicholas I was a military man by birth, and his dream when he was young was to become a general. He might not be good at commanding battles, but he would definitely be a master at watching commentaries.

"If this continues, how long will it take us to take Constantinople?"

Nicholas I inquired.

Albrecht's answer was very straightforward.

"We can't keep fighting like this forever, even if we wanted to, the soldiers in the army couldn't take it."

But don't worry, the British won't last long. At most, they can flatten them in two months, even if they bomb them house by house."

"Yes, very good. I've prepared a banquet and brought along the best ballet company in St. Petersburg."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I have no appetite. I need to plan tomorrow's attack."

Albrecht personally loathed this so-called aristocratic decorum and did not find anything shameful about eating with soldiers.

As for enjoying music and ballet in front of the troops, it would make him feel nauseous.

He usually puts on a very calm and composed demeanor, but when it comes to signing the surrender agreement, he is flustered and clumsy.

This is Albrecht's assessment of that kind of aristocratic style; his status was noble enough that he didn't need any pomp and circumstance to support it.

Although Albrecht personally disliked it, as a royal grand duke, he still had a private chef, a private band, a large retinue of male and female servants, various gold and silver utensils, and a female companion of high status.

However, Albrecht left all of these behind, as they gave him a headache just looking at them.

Being strict with himself is a good thing, but in a sense, it also hindered his progress. At 39, Albrecht was still unmarried and had developed stomach problems due to his long-term irregular lifestyle.

The Ottomans were actually in the worst situation; they mostly served as background figures.

Both Ottoman soldiers and civilians suffered unprecedented losses in this battle.

Initially, the Ottomans were able to achieve some victories by using clever tactics, but as the intensity of the war increased, the Ottomans could only serve as cannon fodder.

Ahmed Yilmaz's strategy remains the same: he hopes to preserve his strength as much as possible.

Guided by Ahmed Yilmaz's thinking, the Ottomans' most combat-effective army chose to retreat, at the cost of having to send more allied troops to fill the gaps.

In fact, the Ottoman army also lacked unified command. Without the support of the Queen Mother, Olma Pasha did not have enough prestige to command the entire army.

As for Ahmed Yilmaz, he was too young and inexperienced to receive enough attention from those important figures.

Queen Mother Sheffield was somewhat disheartened. Her eldest son was dead, her other sons were under British control, and her own power had been usurped. Now, with the Holy Alliance army at the gates, she was truly desperate.

However, the Ottoman family still had value to Britain, at least in preventing it from falling into the hands of the Russians or Austrians.

Viscount Stratford was well aware of this, so he still had to invite the Queen Mother to a safe place.

"Sultana, it's not safe here."

"Is it unsafe? I was besieged by the Russians here for a month a few months ago. Why didn't you come to my rescue then?"

When confronted with Queen Mother Sheffield's questioning, Viscount Stratford answered calmly.

"We in Britain are, after all, a democratic country, and our actions require the consent of Parliament."

"Why do I feel like there's no safe place in this world? Look at the enemy outside, it's as vast as the ocean."

"Of course there are safe places in this world, at least London is safe. What you see is just a strait, and even the Mediterranean Sea is just a small channel. The real ocean is much wider than what you see."