I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 1279 This is Poland's only chance

As thousands of Polish infantrymen reached the middle of the hillside, a barrage of artillery fire erupted from the bastion.

[Illustrative image, not St. Peter's Fortress]

Blood splattered instantly from the bodies of the first few dozen people, and they rolled down one after another.

The soldiers behind them raised their guns to return fire, hoping to use the suppressive fire to reach the outermost wall. However, their firing density was far from sufficient, and reloading was difficult on the hillside, while the Austrian troops were able to fire continuously.

Just over ten minutes later, more than 200 Polish soldiers had been killed in front of the bastion.

Knyanavic, observing the battle from a distance through binoculars, sighed gravely and ordered the two battalions responsible for the attack to withdraw.

The Erzgebirge fortresses were originally built by Austria to defend against Frederick the Great's southward advance. Later, Queen Theresa and Joseph II reinforced them multiple times. Each bastion was equipped with more than 140 cannons, and only a thousand soldiers were needed to defend against an attack by tens of thousands of enemy troops.

Currently, St. Peter's Fortress has received reinforcements from two other fortresses, bringing the total number of people housed to over 4.

If the French army were to launch a direct assault, it would take at least one or two months to capture the area, and the casualties would certainly be extremely heavy. After that, they would also have to face the two fortresses on the south side of the pass.

Therefore, Archduke Charles and his officers never considered the possibility that the French army would choose this place to break through.

However, with the Koschushko Army Corps cooperating from the south, the situation is completely different—the St. Petersburg Fortress was not designed with the Austrian side in mind.

Even so, climbing over a slope of about 300 meters and then storming into the bastion was by no means an easy task.

In addition, the Polish army needed to march at full speed, so they could not carry heavy artillery. At this time, their strongest firepower was only nine twelve-pound cannons, which were almost unable to effectively suppress the fortress.

Their only means was to wear down the fortress bit by bit with their own flesh and blood.

Soon, two more Polish infantry battalions launched an assault. But after just over 20 minutes, they were forced to retreat due to heavy casualties.

Then two other battalions, without hesitation, picked up their rifles and jogged toward the fortress to the sound of the war drums...

The battle continued until 3:30 p.m. The Polish army had launched countless waves of attacks. At this time, two or three hundred soldiers had reached the blind spot of the outermost wall of the bastion—this was only the blind spot of the cannons, and Austrian infantry were still firing at them from above.

Just then, Koschushko, who had been standing at the foot of the mountain, only one kilometer away, keenly heard a change in the sound of artillery fire from the bastion.

He turned to the messenger and shouted, "The Austrian cannons are overheating! Order Knianavic to launch a general offensive immediately!"

"Yes, Marshal!"

Yes, the Polish army's continuous attacks were aimed at exhausting the enemy's artillery's cooling water through bloodshed and death.

As the bugle sounded behind the Polish army, three elite skirmish regiments, nearly 5,000 soldiers who had been prepared, surged toward the ridge like a flood bursting its banks.

The cannons on the west side of the fortress seemed to be seriously ill, firing only once every long intervals—the red-hot barrels would take about four to five minutes to fire with only the wind blowing on them. The firepower density had decreased by more than an order of magnitude compared to before.

Meanwhile, the Austrian artillery on the east side realized something was wrong and began desperately providing fire support, but the effect was very limited.

"Pull! Men!" Warrenovich glanced at the two cannons on the fortress ahead—they hadn't fired for several minutes—pulled hard on the rope, and shouted to the soldiers beside him, "They're about to fire!"

Their company's mission was to provide cover for the artillery behind them and to help them move the cannons close enough.

Suddenly, two soldiers to his left were struck by passing shells, turning into a bloody mess before they could even scream. With two men missing, the cannon, weighing over a ton, immediately plummeted downwards.

"Don't let go!" Warrenovich's hands were already bloodied and mangled from the rope, but he still gritted his teeth and bent over, shouting to those around him, "Come help!"

However, misfortune seemed to befall them, as another person was shot and tumbled down the mountain.

The cannon slid down seven or eight meters before it was finally brought to a stop by several soldiers who had gathered around and desperately tried to stop it.

The artilleryman behind said anxiously, "Just a little further forward and we'll be in firing position."

Just then, the Austrians on the bastion also noticed the cannon closest to them and pointed at it, shouting at them.

Immediately, two cannons and hundreds of muskets began to fire in this direction.

Because of the high vantage point, the bullets remained lethal even after traveling more than 300 meters.

Two soldiers beside Warrenovich were shot one after the other. One of them said in a tense, trembling voice, "The enemy seems to be targeting us. We should retreat first..."

“No, you’ll regret that for the rest of your life!” Zlatopor roared at him with bloodshot eyes. “I backed down in the battle of Sassa, and ever since then I’ve wished I had died on the battlefield.”

"Believe me, that's not what you want."

Warrenovich stared intently at the bastion and continued, "We must take this place to help the French allies get over this damned mountain!"
"Our commander said that we alone cannot defeat all the enemies. This is Poland's only chance!"

The surrounding soldiers fell silent, simply wrapping the ropes used to tow the cannon around their arms a few more times.

To their side and behind, a major glanced up at the cannon and waved to his staff officer: "Grochoska, have the 7th and 11th companies follow me and form a close formation in front of the cannon."

The latter was taken aback and exclaimed urgently, "Commander, this is too dangerous!"

During an attack on a fortress, soldiers were required to maintain a distance of at least 5 meters from each other to reduce the probability of being hit. However, his commander ordered his men to form a dense formation.

The major gestured towards Warrenov and his men: "They're standing closer together. Stop arguing, it's only a little more dangerous than what we did in Zagazik village."

"Yes!"

Grochoska gritted his teeth and agreed, then began to gather the soldiers.

Before long, three lines of infantry appeared in front of Vorenovich and his men, suppressing the Austrian troops on the bastion with volley fire. However, their greatest role was actually to help the soldiers dragging the cannons by blocking the incoming bullets.

Finally, after more than ten minutes, the twelve-pounder, under the cover of hundreds of bodies, arrived at a position 300 meters southwest of the bastion.

Seeing that the artillery was already adjusting the firing angle, the major simply led his team to charge towards the bastion.

He seemed to have returned to the day he first faced the Russian army's frenzied attack, with soldiers around him falling one by one, but he was still standing, still advancing relentlessly towards the place blazing with fire.

Finally, a loud "bang" came from behind him.

"Alright, let these bastards learn their lesson!" A smile crept onto his lips.

(End of this chapter)