Chapter 265: Preparations Before the Battle
In the few days after war broke out, Archduke Albrecht showed little urgency to launch an offensive but continued to keep up appearances.
In the main theater, Albrecht had no intention of sending his troops straight at the Italians, fearing they might collapse immediately. He therefore ordered the Austrian forces on the Alpine front to mount a feint in the north, giving the Italians the impression that Austria-Hungary planned to break through from that direction.
This tactic worked well. The northern defensive line was much longer than the southern one, but it was difficult terrain, and transporting troops and supplies was no easy task. Yet behind the northern defenses lay not only Venice but also Lombardy. Meanwhile, the southern line was shorter, occupying only the narrow plains east of Venice. Still, Albrecht's reputation as a famous commander forced the Italians to focus on him. If he really did launch a surprise offensive from the north, they would be caught off guard.
As soon as the Austrians made small moves in the north, Italy began reinforcing that sector. The Alpine terrain put pressure on Italy's logistics. The upside for Albrecht was that it spread Italy's forces more thinly, prompting them to call in more troops from the rear.
…
The Papal States, about ten kilometers southwest of Rome's outskirts
A contingent of Austro-Hungarian troops was stationed here.
Antonio and other Austro-Hungarian soldiers were in the process of shedding the Italian peasant outfits they'd worn for nearly two months. To facilitate training in secret, they had dressed as rural Italians. Though the area was quite remote, a single slip-up could let someone notice and blow their cover.
Having just changed into uniforms smuggled in by sea, with the final button fastened, Colonel Antonio of the Third Regiment, Fourth Brigade, Second Division, Austro-Hungarian Expeditionary Force tidied his imperial uniform and grumbled to his brigade commander: "Brigadier, if we hadn't put these uniforms on now, I'd have started thinking I'd really become an Italian farmer! Look at this callus on my hand – I used to get it from holding a pistol, but now it's from holding farm tools!"
"Ha, you're not the only one. I, your brigadier, also spent time in the fields with you. Why complain? Besides, the way you 'farmed' would probably make real farmers furious enough to chase you with a shoe, you clumsy oaf," replied the Fourth Brigade's commander.
"You're one to talk, Brigadier. You did no better than me at turning the earth. The plot you worked looked the worst," Antonio retorted.
"Farming isn't for show; it's about how much you harvest. Sure, we're not cut out for it, but our real worth lies on the battlefield. The true 'harvest' from our two months of efforts will be measured by our combat results."
Of course, the Austro-Hungarian Expeditionary Force wouldn't conduct real military drills out in the open. They hadn't even distributed firearms yet. To keep the men from going soft, General Karl had them, including the officers, laboring in the fields—a strategy to keep them physically active and mentally sharp. As for marksmanship, there was no need to worry: these were top soldiers chosen from the Austro-Hungarian Army, the elite among elites. Even if they went a few months without holding a gun, they wouldn't forget how to handle it.
Antonio pretended not to hear the brigadier's remarks and murmured, "I wonder if the corn I planted with all that effort will ever sprout."
"Don't bother. Those seeds were just to keep you busy. You really thought two days of sowing would make you a farmer?"
…
At present, more than 10,000 Austro-Hungarian troops were gathered here—double the number from two months earlier. To hide so many troops in the Papal States, Austria-Hungary leased a large farm in the surrounding area. In future eras, this location would become the site of a sports complex outside Rome. For now, it was a stretch of barren land that came cheap. The local noble who owned the farm lived in Rome.
The land wasn't actually terrible—some rolling slopes, less fertile soil, no major rivers nearby, and a water shortage—but crops could grow, albeit with low yields. It usually lay fallow, so a visiting Austrian "merchant" who wanted to lease it for agricultural investment seemed odd, but the local owner was only happy to take the money. Perhaps, the noble thought, that foreigner had no clue about local conditions. So he pocketed the Austrians' payment and returned to Rome to enjoy himself.
…
"Is everyone assembled?"
Major General Karl, the highest commander of the Austro-Hungarian Expeditionary Force, appeared before the crowd, glasses still on, a map tucked behind his back.
"Sir, the troops are all in place!"
"Good. Next, we'll deliver a fierce blow to the enemy in the very heart of Italy. But we'll be deep behind enemy lines, in a precarious position. Are you afraid?"
"We'll give our lives for the Empire!"
"Don't say such fatalistic things. I want all of you alive. I hope we can march into Florence together for a triumphant parade!"
"Hahaha…" Karl's words drew hearty laughter.
Once they settled down, Karl adopted a more solemn expression. His seasoned face turned serious: "All right, let's get to business. According to intelligence leaked from Italy's high command, around 30,000 Italian troops are headed here to the region around Rome—led by that so-called Italian hero, Garibaldi. He may be overhyped, but he's notably more capable than most of Italy's officers, so he's an opponent to be reckoned with. At present, except for the city of Rome itself, the rest of the Papal States has offered minimal resistance. That means the enemy will arrive soon, probably tonight. If we want to parade in Florence, we must first defeat these Italians."
"Sir, does that mean we'll be rotating with the Papal forces inside Rome?"
"Not exactly. Once the Papal troops clash with Garibaldi's men, we'll launch a surprise assault."
"What if the Papal Army just surrenders?"
"Don't worry about that. Pius IX is the least likely person to give in. The main Papal units are composed of French, Swiss, and other foreign volunteers, so they won't collapse from a single blow. We'll pass the word to Pius IX—only one individual—to avoid any leaks before the battle."
Lifting his left arm to check his watch, Karl said, "It's nearly afternoon. Have the cooks prepare our best supplies. We feast well today so we can hit the Italians hard tonight."
"Yes, sir!" his subordinates replied cheerfully.
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