I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 1249 The Line of Defense Against Death - Part 5
The shouts of the French soldiers instantly drowned out the "Hurrah!" from the other side.

Everyone gripped their guns tightly, pointed their gleaming bayonets at the gray "waves" ahead, and charged forward with unstoppable momentum.

The entire formation was in complete disarray, like an ant colony. None of the soldiers knew where their ranks were, and they could hardly find their company officers. Even their comrades on either side were unfamiliar faces.

But none of that mattered; all they knew was that they, and everyone here, were brave French citizens.

They will crush all enemies!
"dash forward!"

"Victory belongs to France!"

The white torrent began to surge, quickly transforming into an astonishing avalanche-like force.

Finally, the white and gray "waves" crashed together on the vast plain, creating an inaudible roar that seemed to shake the heavens and earth.

Blood was splattered into the air, accompanied by screams and cries of agony, and hundreds of soldiers on both sides fell to the ground and died instantly.

The Russians were immediately taken aback.

The men in white military uniforms opposite them seemed oblivious to the bayonets that would kill them, charging fearlessly toward the blades, determined to plunge their bayonets into their chests.

The outcome was decided in less than a minute.

French soldiers shouted "For the Fatherland!" without even looking at their fallen comrades. Instead, they used the simplest slashing motions to kill the enemies in their way, and then, with bloodshot eyes, searched for their next target.

Many fierce Russians, facing the bayonets waving in all directions, tried to stab the French with the four-edged bayonets of their rifles, but their gun barrels were immediately gripped tightly by the soldiers on the other side, and then sharp blades took their lives.

The Russian army, which was known as the best in European bayonet fighting, soon discovered that it was facing a group of monsters who knew nothing of fear or retreat.

As the first Russian soldier dropped his gun and turned to run, fear quickly spread among the Russian troops.

The shouts of "Hurrah!" quickly faded and then disappeared.

The entire Russian army line collapsed and began to flee in agony.

In the distance, Yefremov's binoculars fell to the ground with a "thud".

His army was routed in an instant by a group of French recruits who hadn't even formed a proper company. It felt like a nightmare to him.

He never expected that he had just chosen the worst possible tactic.

If he ordered a firefight with the French, the Russian army, relying on its superior formation and shooting skills, would most likely defeat its opponents.

But bayonet charges are the least dependent on military technology in combat – large-scale bayonet fighting only requires force to thrust forward – the only test is morale.

And these French soldiers, mobilized under the call of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, were exactly what they had in abundance: morale.

Their belief in fighting for their country enabled them to unhesitatingly exchange their own lives for the lives of the enemy.

In contrast, Russian soldiers had to consider whether the landowner would take most of their pension after they died in battle.

"General!"

Yefremov was awakened by the staff officer's shouts, and when he looked up, he realized that the fleeing soldiers had already run to within a mile of him.

He glanced at the orderly British infantry line in the middle of the battlefield, which was still steadily advancing, and roared at the messenger, "Have the soldiers retreat behind the British!"

"Yes, General!"

Gaizka heard a muffled groan, turned around and saw his teammate on the left with blood streaming down his hand; he had clearly been shot.

He gritted his teeth and turned to look at the British infantry line less than 50 paces away. Behind him, officers were shouting orders for them to prepare to withdraw from their positions, to be covered by reserves.

At that moment, the British turned to look to their right, their eyes filled with panic.

Gaizka was also somewhat surprised, then squinted and looked north. Smoke was dissipating, and in the distance, a crooked white "thin line" was rapidly enlarging.

Then he heard shouts of "For the Fatherland!" and "Long live France!" crashing against the flanks of the British troops like a roaring tsunami.

British officers never expected the Russians to be defeated so quickly, and hastily ordered a full retreat.

However, when the British turned around, they found countless Russian soldiers fleeing in panic not far away.

If they run over there, the two sides will definitely be crowded together, and they will all be captured by the French.

The British officer swore out the most foul language he had ever used, and then had to order the soldiers to re-form and prepare for defense.

But the French 31st Brigade soldiers, already fired up, couldn't stop and launched a bayonet charge despite the British volley.

The already terrified British flank defenses were instantly overwhelmed and began to flee towards the center.

Gaizka stared wide-eyed as his comrades in the distance mercilessly slaughtered the enemy with their bayonets. Suddenly, he heard someone in his own company shout, "We'll use bayonets too! Charge!"

The officer reacted a beat too late; several soldiers had already run out.

Their actions inspired more people, and in less than half a minute, most of the company had bayonets at their ready and charged at the British in front of them.

Marini patted Gaizka on the shoulder: "Let's go too!"

Gazka felt a surge of heat rising from the soles of his feet, and his hands and feet went numb with excitement. He strode after him.

The British soldiers never expected that the French army, which they had previously driven to the brink of collapse, would launch a surprise attack.

Immediately, some prepared to fight with bayonets, some wanted to shoot, and others began to look for an opening to escape.

Gaizka had no idea how he got to the front of the British army line. Following his comrades' movements, he thrust forward, and the tip of his knife pierced through the thigh of a British man.

He pulled the gun back, and warm blood sprayed all over his face.

"Long live France!" he roared, gave the man a final blow, and then lunged at another red figure.

After fighting for an unknown amount of time, Gaizka suddenly felt that he could no longer lift his left hand.

He looked down and realized that his wrist had been pierced at some point, and half of his arm was stained red.

A sharp pain struck him, his vision went black, and he collapsed forward to the ground.

When Gaizka woke up again, he found himself lying in a carriage, surrounded by several unfamiliar comrades.

He jolted awake, struggling to sit up, and cried out urgently, "Where are the enemies? Where are they?"

A soldier with bandages wrapped around his head pressed him down and smiled, "You mean the battle of Schnat Town?"

"We won a great victory, and it is said that we killed three or four thousand enemy soldiers."

"We also captured more than 5 people," another soldier with a sling added. "Haha, the enemy has fled 20 kilometers away."

Gaizka breathed a sigh of relief, only to feel the pain in his wrist again. Looking down, he saw that his left hand was wrapped in thick bandages.

(End of this chapter)