I transmigrated as a french soldier during XVIIIth century

What the Duke of Richelieu feared happened on October 7th: he received a letter directly from Versailles ordering him to allow Lieutenant-General de Broglie to depart with a substantial force, about ten thousand men, to assist Prince de Soubise in his operations further south, in a region called Thuringia.

Naturally, the duke was very angry, as he was left with only forty-two thousand men to accomplish his mission.

Victor-François de Broglie, of course, obeyed the orders and set off. However, it was not with a light heart, for like the duke, he was exhausted from constantly chasing an elusive enemy sent against them by the King of Prussia to make their lives impossible.

The soldiers accompanying him looked like lost souls who had been stripped of any hope of ever resting in peace. They trudged wearily in a long column along an endless road turned into a quagmire by the rains, their faces gloomy and their heads bowed as if they had suffered a crushing defeat.

All they wanted was to rest and dry off.

A powerful smell of wet dog emanated from each of them, a smell that seemed as sticky as the coal-black mud.

That rest, they would certainly not taste it for another month, as they were to assist Prince de Soubise and the Reichsarmee commanded by Prince Joseph Frederick of Saxe-Hildburghausen in defeating the troops of Frederick II of Prussia.

The first day could be compared to a walk in the park compared to the following ones. Indeed, between Halberstadt and Heimburg, where they spent the night, the terrain was quite flat. Beyond that point, however, there were low but challenging mountains.

Following a long path winding between the weather-worn hills, flanked by trees so tall and straight they seemed as if they could be used as masts for first-rate warships without any work, they arrived after a day’s march at Benneckenstein. By following this winding road, they had covered less than thirty kilometers.

If the place was certainly charming in the middle of summer, in this month of October it seemed dreary and unremarkable. Only a part of his troop had arrived, as due to the difficult terrain he had had to leave his baggage behind.

They set off again the next morning at dawn along the muddy road, as it had rained heavily during the night, to Elrich, on the other side of the Harz mountains. The terrain there was so difficult that they only made ten kilometers of progress! Without the help of scouts, they would certainly have gotten lost following paths leading nowhere.

The next day, October 10th, they arrived without incident in Nordhausen, southeast of Elrich. It was almost a relief and a pleasure to walk on muddy roads here, as at least the terrain was relatively flat. The distance between these two stages was only fourteen kilometers. Had they not been forced to adapt to the pace of the baggage, they might have already reached Mühlhausen, thirty kilometers further southwest.

In that city, an allied troop led by Count d’Orlick was just entering, with only a small force under his command.

To facilitate his movements in this unfamiliar territory, the Duke of Broglie divided his troops and marched further south, knowing that Prince de Soubise was moving in his direction to receive his valuable reinforcements as soon as possible. He had left Gotha, west of Erfurt, the city that had been the center of attention the previous month, leaving the commander of the Franco-Imperial army behind.

His first troop immediately set off for Bleicherode, about twenty kilometers from Nordhausen, and pushed on the next day, October 15th, to Keula, a tiny village located on the other side of a small but troublesome mountain covered in trees that seemed lost among the fields. Meanwhile, his second troop quietly left Nordhausen following the same path as the first group.

He finally arrived on October 16th in Mühlhausen, after nine days of marching in mostly dreadful weather. There, he was warmly welcomed by Prince de Soubise.

“Welcome, Duke! It is a joy to finally have you with us!”

The Duke of Broglie bowed to the commander of the French army in Saxony with respect, more for the rank than for the man.

“Your Highness, we came as quickly as possible. You presented the situation in such a way in your letters that we feared it might be so grave as to be irreversible.”

The officer indeed seemed to have gone through hell to get here. Despite his fine clothes, he was covered in mud and reeked from afar. His features, which a year earlier would have made him quite agreeable, were now so drawn that he seemed to have aged several years. Unlike what some might have done in the same situation, while the Duke of Richelieu's army chased the enemies of the King of France and his allies, he had not hesitated to deprive himself to ensure his men had food. As a result, he had lost a great deal of weight, evident in his neck and cheeks.

Prince de Soubise, on the other hand, seemed to be in rather good spirits. He wore a splendid scarlet woolen coat richly adorned with gold, so much so that it was difficult to say what the dominant color was: was it a scarlet coat trimmed with gold, or a gold coat trimmed with scarlet elements? This coat matched perfectly with the rest of the prince's attire and contrasted with the steel breastplate covering his chest.

“The situation has evolved significantly in the meantime, sir,” replied the commander, somewhat embarrassed, only three years older than the Duke of Broglie.

“Could you summarize the situation for me? I am unfamiliar with the terrain and the forces involved.”

“It would be simpler, I think, to show you on a map of the region. Meanwhile, your men can rest. Is this your entire troop?”

The duke sensed a hint of disappointment barely concealed behind the question.

“No, Your Highness. I divided my troops to join you more quickly. My second division should arrive tomorrow during the day.”

“Very well, very well. Although the situation has significantly improved since last month, the enemy remains powerful. This way, please.”

The Duke of Broglie gave his orders to the officers assisting and accompanying him to ensure that his men lacked nothing. Then, he followed the prince into a house he had requisitioned for his needs in the town. They went up to the first floor, where, in the center of the room, there was a large, simple, solid wood table with an equally large map spread across it. Lead weights had been placed at the four corners to keep it from shifting, and colored wooden blocks were positioned all over.

The map seems quite detailed. Was it provided by the Empire?

"Before we begin, Your Highness, here is a letter from the Duke of Richelieu."

"Ah, thank you. He confirms that you are now under my command and details your forces. Excellent! They will be most useful!"

"They will be even more so," the Duke of Broglie added, "once they’ve had some rest. The Duke of Richelieu hasn't spared them these past few days. The Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg is causing us a lot of trouble further north."

"I understand. That's perfectly understandable. Your men will be able to rest, but unfortunately, I'm afraid time is not on our side. Roughly speaking, our forces gradually gathered in Erfurt last summer, and we managed to seize a substantial amount of grain and supplies. However, our army was so large that it was like a swarm of locusts."

The prince glanced around as if he feared being overheard and whispered:

"To be completely honest, the food shortage was due to the lack of discipline within the Imperial army. You'll see for yourself, they are barely better than militia. Some aren’t even properly equipped."

He doesn't seem to view his allies as reliable... Are they really so poorly maintained and trained? Discipline is fundamental!

"In any case," he continued, presenting the wooden pieces one by one, "we took possession of Erfurt as planned, along with the nearby towns. The Imperial General, who is supposed to command us, Hildburghausen, arrived later."

The Duke of Broglie nodded slightly, trying to remember the difficult-to-pronounce name. As he leaned on the heavy table to relieve his tired legs, his attention shifted to another piece nearly on the other side of the map.

"In the meantime, Major General Loudon, sent by our Austrian allies, took control of this region near Leipzig. Unfortunately, he couldn't hold it, as his forces weren't sufficient to withstand His Majesty the King of Prussia, who was marching toward him from Dresden. He did everything he could to delay them and give us time to reorganize, as our forces had scattered to control the region where our armies were located."

"I understand. Was this when you began sending letters to the marshal and the Court?"

"A bit later, actually, when the situation had become much more alarming. When I learned that Frederick II himself was marching in our direction, I hesitated on the best course of action. I thought it better to retreat west of Erfurt, here in Eisenach. But seeing how difficult it would be to act alongside General Hildburghausen and his army, and considering the massive amount of material and supplies that would need to be moved, I decided it was better to stay and fortify our positions. I also didn't forget to send scouts ahead to monitor the King of Prussia’s progress, and that’s how I learned that he had left the Leipzig region undefended! Naturally, I sent a force there to seize their supplies, and if that wasn’t possible, to destroy them."

The Duke of Broglie held back from making a comment, seeing how proud this man seemed for thinking of something so basic, and chose to remain silent. The prince continued, reflecting on those difficult and stressful days.

"The enemy kept advancing, pursuing Loudon, who continued to destroy the bridges allowing the crossing of the various rivers on the King of Prussia's path, but he only managed to buy a few days. Somehow, Frederick quickly found ways to cross. On September 10th, he was in Naumburg, here," he said, pointing to a town about sixty kilometers northeast of Erfurt. "It was at that moment that Frederick II unleashed the Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg upon Hanover. Meanwhile, we were slowly retreating to buy time to form a single body. Truth be told, sir, it's easier to make a donkey move. These Imperials are truly mediocre! They don’t cooperate unless they receive orders from their superior, and they don't all speak the same language!"

De Broglie could hear all the prince’s frustration, having suffered greatly since the beginning of this campaign just from dealing with this hollow force.

"Ah," he sighed deeply, "on September 13th, Frederick II entered Erfurt without a fight. He then had twelve or thirteen infantry battalions and twenty-four cavalry units."

"So few? And you couldn’t defeat him?" the Duke of Broglie asked, surprised.

"We could have, but we didn't know the extent of his forces at the time. Our informants deceived us, or perhaps it was an enemy trap. He changed the names and locations of garrisons so that we believed there were many more of them!"

Soubise's face turned red with shame and regret, especially knowing what happened next.

"We continued to retreat cautiously eastward, which prompted the enemy to advance on Gotha. Two days later, we began marching on Gotha to retake it. With the Imperial soldiers, we had 30 infantry battalions and fourteen cavalry units. Additionally, we had part of Loudon's troops with us, grenadiers and thirteen artillery pieces. We were just under ten thousand strong. We attacked on the 19th, and because the enemy had withdrawn, General Hildburghausen and I retreated to Gotha Castle to share a meal. We were confident and let our guard down," the officer admitted in a whisper. "The enemy, very mobile, who had withdrawn, returned and attacked us with such force and precision that we couldn’t do anything. From the castle windows, we could see them killing and wounding our men."

Again, the prince lowered his voice for fear of being overheard. He leaned slightly over the table, emphasizing that he wanted only his interlocutor to hear him.

"Between us, I mostly saw Hildburghausen's men flee like cowards, abandoning their weapons and comrades."

"And then? What happened?" the lieutenant-general pressed, as if the prince's contemptuous criticism were of no importance.

"Ah, yes. The grenadiers did their duty. They formed up and repelled the enemy cavalry charges. We had many wounded, but the most significant loss was that we lost almost all our baggage in that single action. They also managed to capture many prisoners, among them many valets, servants, and hairdressers. What a loss!"

A small tear rolled down the prince's cheek, leaving the Duke of Broglie speechless. His jaw clenched so tightly that he trembled with tension at hearing such nonsense.

This fool cares more about his hairdresser than his soldiers?! Is he mad or just an idiot?!

"After that tragic incident, we once again tried to regroup our forces. Supplies were sorely lacking; we had to go without, tighten our belts."

Unintentionally, the Duke of Broglie’s gaze drifted to the prince’s belly, which didn’t seem to have suffered much hardship.

I can see that, the duke thought with irony. I’m sure it fills out his cuirass perfectly!

"We then began advancing toward Erfurt with the intention of retaking it. General Hildburghausen and I argued a lot over the best course of action, but the Court seemed to want to entrust this foreigner with the overall command of our army. So I let him proceed, advising him as best I could. Thanks to our efforts, we forced His Majesty the King of Prussia to retreat, and eventually, our forces entered the city. Monsieur Saint-Germain occupied it as early as October 1st. The enemy, though frequently attacking us, has since only retreated. Frederick’s army was, until October 10th, in Buttelstädt, here, halfway between Erfurt and Naumburg (31 kilometers). As for me, I entered Erfurt on the 5th."

The man paused and fixed his gaze on the Duke of Broglie, dark eyes burning with ambition.

"Now, the most important information: it seems that an allied force is currently marching on Berlin. According to our information, the King of Prussia is marching east to try to save his city. Almost his entire army is leaving! This is an opportunity!"

"It’s an opportunity not to be missed, indeed," the lieutenant-general conceded, glancing one last time at the large map. "If we manage to hold off the enemy king and Berlin falls, his morale will be shattered, and he will be easy to defeat. We can also better predict his route and delay him long enough to strike with force and destroy his army. Once this enemy is eliminated, we can focus on Great Britain."

"Yes! I hope," the prince said with a broad smile that he intended to seem benevolent, "that I can count on you to support me whenever necessary, especially when it comes to convincing this Imperial general of the best strategy to adopt!"