CHAPTER 520: CHAPTER 512: CRIMEA LANDING PROCEDURE (PART 2)

"Is it Odessa?"

"What a joke, I bet it’s Chechnya! (Caucasus Region)"

In the Zuav Corps, known for its (relatively) free spirit, the relationship between the commander and the soldiers was not as strict as in other armies. Therefore, two Zuav soldiers took turns asking Brigadier General MacMahon about their upcoming destination.

"You’re both wrong!" Brigadier General MacMahon shook his head and replied calmly, "Our destination is Yevpatoria on the Crimea Peninsula, a small town just 3 leagues (about 12 kilometers) from us, and you need to capture it before midnight!"

"What! Just a small town? The Marshal really underestimates us!" one of the Zuav soldiers complained.

"Indeed! They really underestimate us!" the other Zuav soldier echoed.

"This is our first battle after landing on the Crimea Peninsula and a crucial one, so we must win!" Brigadier General MacMahon said sternly to them, "Any underestimation of the enemy will lead to our defeat in this war! Understand?"

The two Zuav soldiers nodded seriously to MacMahon, showing they understood.

"Alright! Go now! Don’t keep me waiting!" MacMahon gestured with his hand to the soldiers.

Under MacMahon’s gaze, the two soldiers disappeared from the deck, leaving MacMahon alone on the deck, staring into the distance.

After a while, a major and eight captains from the troop transport ship appeared before Brigadier General MacMahon, all standing with their chests out, heads held high, waiting for MacMahon’s inspection like soldiers.

Looking at this energetic group of "wolf cubs", Brigadier General MacMahon nodded in satisfaction and said loudly, "You know why I called you here, right!"

"Yes!" The nine mid-level officers responded in unison to Brigadier General MacMahon.

Before they came to the top-level deck, the Zuav soldiers responsible for conveying messages had already informed them of everything.

"Good! Very spirited!" Brigadier General MacMahon articulated clearly as he issued an order, "I am giving you just one hour. During this hour, you must reorganize the soldiers on board. I will return to this transport ship in one hour. By that time, I want to see a force ready for combat at any moment! Do you understand?"

"Understood!" The nine officers immediately responded to MacMahon.

Then, MacMahon left the troop transport ship by steam launch to carry out mobilization work on another transport ship carrying the Zuav Corps.

The nine mid-level officers watched Brigadier General MacMahon leave, then returned to the trooper population inside the transport ship, waking up all the soldiers of the transport fleet.

...

"Wake up! Wake up! Sergeant Baptista, we need to assemble!"

As Baptista was about to lead the French Army to attack the Odessa fort, a voice seemed to reach his ears from another world.

I remember now! I’m in a dream!

Baptista immediately realized he was in a dream, desperately trying to wake up from it.

After several attempts, Baptista managed to open his sleepy eyes.

The dense jungle, fierce beasts, and the Odessa capital fort deep in the forest... all disappeared, leaving only the sticky sensation transmitted from the skin to the brain and the sweat on his forehead.

Clearly, Baptista was still inside the cabin, with fellow soldiers on either side of him now packing their sheets into backpacks, ready to move out at any moment.

"What on earth happened?" Baptista asked in confusion, grabbing a nearby comrade.

The nearby comrade paused his actions and said to Baptista, "I don’t know the specifics! But I heard we’re about to embark on a landing operation!"

"Landing? Landing where? Odessa?" Sergeant Baptista blurted out, asking his comrade.

"It doesn’t seem like it!" The comrade shook his head and then pulled away Baptista’s hand, replying, "In any case, we need to pack quickly!"

"Oh!" Sergeant Baptista hurriedly got up, folded the sheet neatly, and opened his backpack to stuff the sheet inside.

Shouldering his backpack, Sergeant Baptista followed the main group to find his company. As a sergeant, he stood at the very end of the line. (Junior officers generally stand at the front of the line, while regular soldiers stand in the middle of the queue.)

The platoon was divided into three rows, with each row having about 39 people, totaling 118 people including the captain.

The entire troop transport ship had a total of 960 combat personnel.

By the time all 960 soldiers were assembled, 40 minutes had passed.

The captain of each company conveyed Brigadier General MacMahon’s instructions to them and then asked if any members had further questions. In the following moments, they could speak freely.

As soon as the captain finished speaking, the company exploded in chatter.

Members of the company once again asked their captain if he had mistakenly informed them about the landing site.

The captains assured the soldiers with utmost certainty that they had not heard wrong; it was indeed the Crimea Peninsula.

Upon hearing the captain’s affirmative response, some soldiers were as mournful as if they had lost a loved one, while others were overjoyed.

Those who were overjoyed weren’t thrilled about participating in the war, but rather delighted at the prospect of winning money from the losers.

...

Standing at the end of the line, Sergeant Baptista suddenly remembered that the letter he was about to send home mentioned going to Odessa, whereas now he was headed for the Crimea Peninsula. Should he change it?

Thinking of this, Sergeant Baptista instinctively touched the envelope at his chest.

"Alright! I’ve said enough! You are about to face a battle, so anyone who has already written their letter can hand it over to me now!" the captain of Sergeant Baptista’s company announced loudly.

Never mind! Crimea it is! Sending the letter is more important!

After a bit of self-assurance, Sergeant Baptista left the line and handed the letter to the captain.

Along with him, several others also handed in their letters. They were representatives of their respective companies as well. This adequately demonstrated that basic education in the French Army only extended to the officer level, while the vast majority of soldiers were illiterate peasants and vagabonds, who were the ones joining the army.

Since neither group had any spare money, especially now that Jerome Bonaparte followed Nie’er’s orders to increase the cost to avoid conscription, those peasants who could barely scrape enough to avoid military service were no longer able to do so.

The influx of peasant sons into the military reduced the literacy rate (some seasoned veterans, after spending long periods in the camp, gradually learned to write letters), but it increased the purity of the army, causing a minor shift in a military once rife with various vices.

Looking at these officers who could send letters, the soldiers’ eyes revealed a hint of envy.

These soldiers, who were about to step into the battlefield, knew nothing of the combat they would soon face. They longed for spiritual solace to prevent their souls from being lost on the battlefield.

However, unable to write letters, they were destined not to send their thoughts home, praying silently to God for a safe return from the battle.

The captain, after collecting all the letters from the company, handed them over to their battalion commander. These letters would, in turn, be handed over to supply ships traveling between France and Crimea.

Upon returning to France, the post office would personally deliver these letters to their respective homes.

After the battalion commander had gathered all the letters from the companies, Brigadier General MacMahon appeared between the deck and the staircase.

"Commander!" The battalion commander quickly ran to MacMahon, saluted, and reported: "All 960 members of the Zuav Corps’ first battalion are present and accounted for, awaiting your orders!"

"Excellent!" Looking at the spirited soldiers before him, MacMahon smiled and issued the command: "Have your men await further orders here! Come with me!"

"Yes!" The battalion commander responded loudly, then turned and jogged to the soldiers, instructing them to sit cross-legged and rest.

The battalion commander led his eight company captains to follow Brigadier General MacMahon.

Seated cross-legged near the left porthole, Sergeant Baptista looked outside. The troopship moved forward steadily, and alongside it was a steam sailing battleship with a single gun deck. Curiously, the design of this battleship was quite different from traditional ones, with a layer of iron wrapped beneath the cannon ports.

The iron reflected a silvery-white light under the sunlight.

Indeed, this was the French Empire’s newly modified ironclad warship.

The iron clad over the hull effectively shielded it from enemy cannon impacts. The cannons on both sides of the ironclad also inflicted devastating strikes on adversaries.

Although this ironclad (more accurately, an iron-plated sailing ship) sacrificed some firepower for enhanced defense, in a navy generally equipped with explosive shells, defensive needs far surpassed firepower requirements.

After all, solid cannonballs, unlike explosive shells, required multiple shots to fully destroy a ship.

Explosive shells only needed two or three hits to completely sink a vessel.

After half an hour, the main fleet and a large number of troopships came to a halt.

The three troopships carrying the Zuav Corps continued forward under the escort of the ironclad, navigating for approximately another hour.

Land was faintly visible in the distance, and at this moment, the battalion commander and the company captains returned to the formation.