novelraw Chapter 351: Strategy
Chapter 351: Strategy
West Francia, Paris.
Following the defeat at the Battle of Dunwall Manor, the morale of the Frankish Coalition plummeted. Nobles began departing without a word. By the time they retreated to the banks of the Seine, Charles the Bald's forces had dwindled to a mere twenty thousand men.
Over the following days, he frantically sent out pleas for reinforcements in all directions, focusing heavily on the Italian region.
The Po Valley in Northern Italy boasted fertile land ideal for farming, and the infrastructure left over from the Roman era still functioned. A few port towns were also experiencing robust development. Charles the Bald heavily exaggerated the threat posed by the Vikings, begging every region to participate in this decisive battle that would determine the fate of Continental Europe out of respect for their shared faith.
Based on the exchange of letters, Charles estimated he could muster between twenty and thirty thousand men from southern Francia and Northern Italy.
However, he still had another pressing issue to address.
Having experienced the disastrous defeat the previous year, Charles realized he lacked the ability to command large-scale military operations involving more than fifty thousand troops. Count William of Orléans was a mediocrity, and Jean de Thouars was an absolute fool.
Charles spent the better part of a day recalling all the Frankish Nobility he knew. Eventually, he helplessly picked up paper and pen to write a personal letter to Zaragoza.
"My dearest friend..."
Currently, Gunnar's Caen Castle and the entirety of Normandy were occupied by Wigg. Furthermore, Gunnar's wife Vivienne and his eldest son Robert were staying at the Royal Court in Paris. Charles the Bald felt he had a sixty percent chance of persuading him to return and help.In late February, the weather grew warmer, and the wind and waves of the Channel gradually calmed. Two Ranger Battalions and replacement troops from noble territories were successively transported to Cherbourg, increasing Wigg's total military strength to fifty-three thousand.
He maintained the organizational structure of a Royal Division, a Cavalry Division, and three Field Divisions. The number of heavy cavalry reached three thousand, while the rangers were expanded to eighteen hundred.
The Garrison Regiments were expanded to twelve, continuing to execute low-value tasks. Thanks to captured armor, their armor rate was maintained at thirty to forty percent, making their combat effectiveness decent.
Aside from this, the four thousand mercenary infantry recruited by the Cabinet in Eastern Europe were waiting for transport on Gotland. They were expected to arrive at the front lines by late March.
Wigg read through the detailed report submitted by the Cabinet. As of now, the total number of troops approached seventy thousand—including the Expeditionary Force, over ten thousand naval personnel, and the Garrison Troops in both the homeland and overseas territories. The mobilization rate exceeded two and a half percent, reaching the homeland's absolute limit of endurance. If more soldiers were conscripted, various industries would be severely impacted, causing financial revenues to shrink drastically.
In short, the Cabinet advised the King to increase the proportion of mercenaries. Even though their organization was poor, they could at least relieve some of the pressure on the field units.
Attached to the end of the report was a statistical chart detailing the available pool of mercenaries and their prices across various regions of Eastern Europe. Wigg scanned through the items one by one, feeling that the Cabinet's suggestion was overly idealistic.
"The Pomeranians, Livonians, Courlanders, Finns, and Rus all speak entirely different languages. The difficulty in communication is extremely high. If we aren't careful, mercenaries from different ethnicities might slaughter each other over spoils of war."
Wigg grabbed his hair in frustration. 'Does the Cabinet really have that much confidence in my command abilities, thinking I can secure a victory with a hodgepodge of makeshift rabble?'
On March 10th, the Expeditionary Force ended its period of rest and launched a new round of offensives. The Frankish Army's will to resist was resolute. Taking advantage of the winter truce, they had constructed numerous wooden forts in the areas east of Le Mans, and all grain from the surrounding villages had been relocated in advance.
Based on the current progress and casualty rates, Wigg would have to sacrifice two months and at least five thousand men just to reach the banks of the Seine.
Paris boasted formidable city defenses, requiring a prolonged siege. Assuming a large influx of Frankish reinforcements arrived and coordinated a pincer attack with the city's garrison, there was a high probability that the Vikings would be defeated.
"No, our previous strategy was flawed. I underestimated the national strength of Francia. I didn't expect them to still be capable of putting up this kind of resistance after losing a field army of tens of thousands." Wigg ordered a retreat back to the city of Le Mans. After spending three days, he finally devised a new strategy.
He summoned the commanders of all units. "Attacking the Paris region is too difficult. I've decided to change our direction."
This time, the march route would follow the Loire River. Wigg planned to advance from west to east, moving upstream along the waterway to capture Angers, Tours, and Orléans along the way.
As long as they controlled this river, it would be equivalent to splitting Charles the Bald's territory into northern and southern halves. Assuming the main Frankish Army remained huddled in Paris, he could attack the wealthy and poorly defended south to seize grain, warhorses, gold, silver, and wine, and then hire even more Eastern Europeans.
After concluding his explanation, Wigg assigned the combat tasks.
"The Second and Third Field Divisions will attack Angers to the southwest, while I will lead the remaining forces south to assault Tours. Furthermore, notify Joren to have the navy assemble a riverine fleet as quickly as possible. Use the oared longships to transport supplies and control the waterway."
Early the next morning, Wigg led over twenty thousand soldiers southward. It did not take long for the Frankish forces, who had been constantly on the defensive, to realize their plans had failed. They dispatched a large number of reconnaissance cavalry in an attempt to ascertain the enemy's true intentions.
In late March, a cold wind swept across the flat, open grasslands. More than thirty rangers reined in their mounts, advancing at a slow pace. Dressed in standard-issue brigandine armor, their gazes scoured the distance like hunting falcons.
"Rest where you stand."
After issuing the command, the ranger platoon leader, Santan, gathered his three squad leaders. He produced a piece of parchment bearing a messily drawn map and detailed their subsequent reconnaissance route.
"Squad One will go this way, circling the lake to record the surrounding terrain. Squad Two will search the orchards here to find out if there are any enemy troops present. Squad Three and I will move together, following the road to this intersection to search for the missing rangers from the neighboring company. We assemble back here before sunset. Don't get lost!"
Before he could finish speaking, a sentry suddenly shouted a warning. "Enemies! Over twenty Frankish cavalrymen!"
Santan carefully folded the map and climbed onto his warhorse. Two hundred yards away, on the ridge of the northeastern grassy slope, twenty-seven figures clad in chainmail silently appeared.
"Damn it, it's these obnoxious barbarians again."
Santan engaged in a standoff with the enemy for several minutes. Neither side was willing to back down, and they soon spurred their mounts forward to meet each other.
A biting, cold wind brushed against his cheeks. Just as Santan drew a feathered arrow from his quiver, he suddenly noticed the opposing Frankish cavalrymen raising crossbows.
'Cavalry using crossbows? What kind of new trick is this?'
The distance closed to thirty yards. The rangers swiftly nocked their arrows and drew their bows. With the sharp twang of bowstrings, piercing whistles tore through the air. From the opposite side, the dull, mechanical clatter of triggers sounded in rapid succession as crossbow bolts shot forward against the strong wind. Projectiles crisscrossed in the air. Five riders tumbled from their mounts, hitting the ground and kicking up heavy clouds of dust.
Soon, both formations dissolved, and the fifty-plus cavalrymen dissolved into a chaotic melee. The rangers continued to harass their opponents with bows and arrows. Burdened by the slow reload speed of their weapons, some of the crossbow cavalry simply discarded their crossbows and spurred their horses to ram into the nearby rangers. The situation grew increasingly chaotic.
As the skirmish raged on, more and more Frankish cavalrymen were knocked from their horses. Some struggled to their feet, grouping together with their comrades. They raised their crossbows to shoot at the rangers, deliberately aiming at the mounts beneath them rather than the Vikings clad in brigandine armor.