Chapter 141
Chapter 141
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: Operation to Conquer Switchland (4)
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With that, the Switchland expeditionary force advanced toward their assigned regions, and our 7th Division, following orders, slowly took control of Ticino Canton as we pressed forward.
What I could see right now was a breathtaking vista of Switchland that looked just like a scene straight out of a photograph.
To the right, tall trees stood in lush abundance, while to the left, sheer peaks boasting eternal snow stretched endlessly, their elegant lines unbroken. Mystical sky-blue lakes appeared now and then, alongside crystal-clear streams flowing through the valleys.
Personally, it was so beautiful that I found myself thinking I'd love to bring Laura here on a family trip someday during a long vacation—once our next child is born.
Perhaps because of that, the soldiers and officers began to let their guard down, their hearts opening to the peaceful, idyllic beauty of the landscape as they started chatting idly.
"Sergeant Major, if I make a pile of money after discharge, I wanna set up house here with Maria."
"I'm out in two years myself. Thinking I should drag that damn wife of mine along, get married, and take her on a trip she's never had before. Water's clean, air's fresh."
"Can't help but envy the Switchland folk living in a place like this. Great air, great mountains."
Hearing that, two thoughts crossed my mind.
First, throughout history—be it modern times or the Middle Ages—living in places with good mountains and clear water usually meant a world of hurt.
Because good mountains meant poor transportation, and for the people of the Europan continent who mainly lived off farming, it also meant a severe shortage of arable land. That tied straight into the problem of scraping by just to eat.
Second, no matter the situation, whenever tension eased like this, something was bound to happen.
Of course, it was possible nothing would happen, contrary to expectations.
But no matter where you looked in Ticino Canton of the Switchland Duchy, there were forests and rough terrain perfect for ambushing at least a hundred men.
And the Count of Ticino, who ruled this land, would naturally try to bog us down using guerrilla tactics that exploited the terrain.
As I rode on, lost in thought, Anya—taking over Laura's role as my aide—approached and asked,
"Major General, is something troubling you? If there's any way I can help, I'll do my utmost."
I replied with a serious expression.
"No, Anya, it's nothing major. Just a lot on my mind."
"You're my benefactor and hero, Anastasia Kerzhit's savior. I'll gladly answer any question, even personal ones."
"Then, if it's not too rude, may I ask you something?"
Anya nodded in agreement instead of replying verbally.
"The White Wolf Tribe used to raid Swedish merchant caravans sometimes, right? Like the other northern barbarians."
Asking an Imperial lieutenant colonel and knight like Anya about her days as a northern savage might cross a line.
Especially tales of attacking intact caravans—nomads might see it differently, but in the Empire, that was straight-up criminal.
Asking her about it was rude in itself, but...
"We did back then. Had no choice to survive."
"I see. Then, based on that experience, could you answer my question?"
"Yes, Major General."
After a brief hesitation, I asked,
"It feels like the Count of Ticino will ambush our division. From your past experience, does it seem like they could pull off a successful raid on us?"
"About fifty-fifty. You're avoiding the roughest paths as much as possible, sticking to routes harder to ambush. But there are still plenty of spots that look perfect for it."
"That means the enemy will likely strike when they think we've let our guard down, aiming to inflict heavy casualties."
Moreover, our division marching so casually suggested the Count's domain figured there'd only be one shot at a major battle strategically.
We'd sent out light cavalry and scouts to forests and mountains along our route, searching as best we could, but no signs of large enemy forces hidden away yet.
Logically, then, there shouldn't be much ambush potential so far.
But flip that around: battlefields were full of the unexpected by definition.
The Empire hadn't sent troops to Switchland in nearly two centuries, so no matter how many scouts we dispatched, we couldn't uncover every hidden path or perfect ambush spot known only to the locals.
All these circumstances pointed to one thing.
"Considering the Count of Ticino's tendencies and our situation, he'll definitely ambush the 7th Division within the next few days. We need to prepare."
I'd once succeeded with a surprise attack from an unexpected spot on the Rhineland Front.
With just about a hundred men, I'd turned an entire division upside down.
No large movements detected nearby yet, but if the Count wanted, ambushing us was entirely feasible.
Plus, the Switchland Duchy had a record of ambushing and crushing an Imperial army in the Morgen Battle two hundred years ago.
They wouldn't have forgotten that taste of victory—they were surely coming for us.
With my thoughts settled, I called over the nearby messengers and issued orders.
"From this moment, all knights dismount, don breastplates, greaves, and sabatons, and arm themselves with halberds like the infantry. Soldiers, wear your armor and march in full battle readiness."
It might seem odd for troops in the field to march fully unarmored, but most medieval armies rarely marched in complete armor.
Knight's plate alone weighed 20kg, and infantry armor was usually over 10kg—heavy stuff.
Marching daily for 30km in that, for days or even months? Impossible.
They could manage a week or two, but beyond that, soldiers collapsed from exhaustion.
Typically, armor went on wagons; they'd march in combat tunics, weapons ready.
"All troops, wear cloaks for warmth against the cold."
This served to protect against the chill, sure.
But the real aim was to somewhat conceal that we were properly armed.
That way, the enemy would think,
'Those fools aren't even suspecting our Switchland troops are nearby—they're strolling in carefree.'
"To preserve stamina, we'll keep the three major breaks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus 10-minute minor breaks every two hours. But factoring in armor weight, add one more major break before lunch and dinner. Non-sentries during these: halt marching and nap roadside."
More rest meant shorter daily marches, but less fatigue.
The enemy, thinking us hidden from view, would dismiss us as madmen napping mid-march and lower their guard.
They'd get bolder with their ambush plans.
"Finally, march in standard formation today. Starting tomorrow, reorganize: one knight platoon and one infantry platoon per unit. Relay orders to all; once confirmed, halt, don armor first, then resume. Make it happen across the division."
Mixing knights and infantry by platoon made about 37 men per group—enough to defend from any direction if hit.
The Switchlanders' plot to sow chaos with ambushes? We'd turn it against them.
The messengers dashed off to relay to unit commanders, and I donned my own armor.
"Once armored, resume standard march pace! Two hours, then dinner and camp!"
A few days like this, and they should come.
Question is, can I hook 'em properly?