The Polish Debacle (4)
Russia, long tormented by its reputation as a second-rate European power, had finally shaken off its deep-seated inferiority complex—thanks to the Ottomans, who served as the perfect punching bag for its self-esteem.
The belief that they, who pummeled the once-mighty empire that had dominated Europe like a sandbag, couldn't possibly be weak themselves, formed the bedrock of their confidence.
And it wasn't just that. Right here on the Polish front, weren't they racking up victory after victory, displaying the might of the Russian Empire for all the world to see?
General Petrovich, commander of Russian forces in the Poland-Lithuania sector, felt intoxicated by their overwhelming strength.
Word had even come from the homeland that, with things going this well, they might seriously consider sending reinforcements—perhaps enough to swallow Lithuania whole.
Then, intelligence arrived: Prussian forces were approaching at a ferocious speed.
"Saxony let the Prussians through?"
"Polish nobles are dithering and standing by, watching it unfold."
"Well, we have to see it as Saxony ignoring our warnings. Bunch of idiots."
The Russians naturally interpreted this chain of events as Saxony's doing.
And who could blame them? The Prussians were moving with such speed and precision.
"They could've just bowed their heads and promised to keep Poland as a permanent buffer zone forever. But no, they had to drag Prussia into it? The Saxon elector isn't senile yet..."
"In any case, Prussia demands we halt our advance on their homeland and withdraw immediately."
"What nonsense. Surely they're not serious about that claim?"
Of course, the Russian army didn't fancy itself invincible, without peers under heaven.
They knew full well that France, which had reigned as Europe's strongest power just a few years prior, and Austria, which had brushed it aside with ease, were no pushovers.
And Prussia—having crushed France before and since pressuring Bavaria and the Netherlands—was certainly a force to reckon with.
In this situation, no one wanted a real war with Prussia.
But didn't the Prussians feel the same way?
No matter how land-hungry Prussia was, crawling into Poland for an all-out war with Russia seemed far too costly.
"No retreat for now. We'll advance a portion of our forces to show our resolve and gauge their reaction."
"What if they send troops too...?"
"Pretend to fight, then link up with the main body."
Looking at Saxony's sorry state, it wouldn't be long before it got gobbled up by Austria or Prussia—or reduced to a puppet.
So, sizing up the Prussian army they'd likely face again soon wasn't a bad idea.
Under what they deemed rational judgment, the Russians pressed on with operations in eastern Poland.
And as expected, Prussia responded by detaching part of its main force to meet the Russian provocations.
Right. They must find committing their full strength too burdensome, just like us.
Skirmish lightly, then negotiate from a favorable position...
"M-Marshal, sir! Disaster! Absolute disas—"
"What's with the hysterics? Pull yourself together."
"Our vanguard clashed with the Prussian advance guard of 2,000... and got wiped out."
"What? Wiped out?"
"Nearly 1,000 of our 3,000 are dead, hundreds captured."
How the hell does a fight between 2,000 and 3,000 result in 1,500 casualties?
Did those sly Prussians flank and ambush them somehow?
"Explain exactly what happened, step by step! What of the survivors?"
"Their accounts are all jumbled—we haven't pieced it together yet. But officers say the enemy formation was utterly abnormal. Like... they were dead set on massacring us..."
They'd long known Prussia had received the Franz Rifle from Austria.
To counter it, Petrovich had ordered no frontal charges—instead, maximize artillery and cavalry for flanking maneuvers.
Petrovich couldn't make sense of it, but Friedrich knew full well the Russians wouldn't dare a head-on fight.
With tales spreading of French armies melting away against it, what lunatic would charge straight into Franz Rifles?
Thus, even before receiving them, Friedrich had devised optimal tactics to exploit the new weapons.
More precisely, tactics optimized to "pacify" armies armed with obsolete gear using the superior range and lethality of modern firearms.
"Forming lines not in three ranks but closer to 1.5, with deliberately wide gaps? Cavalry circling to pin our artillery, then swinging to cut retreat... using infantry as makeshift light artillery to whittle us down?"
From survivor testimonies alone, the picture didn't snap into focus.
But from that single clash, the Russians instinctively knew Friedrich was a commander leagues above Petrovich.
It wasn't just superior weapons—the Prussians had already evolved entirely new tactics around them.
Unbeknownst to Petrovich, Friedrich had even pondered battles where both sides wielded Franz Rifles.
Against Russians, though, they hadn't needed to go that far.
After probing with a couple more forces, Petrovich lost every ounce of confidence he'd gained pounding Polish troops.
Ah... so France didn't crumble for nothing.
Humans can't truly grasp pain until they've felt it themselves.
At least they'd awakened to reality with their strength intact—a silver lining, perhaps.
Petrovich hunkered down in a conquered Lithuanian city, firing off desperate pleas to St. Petersburg for help.
However...
"Austrian forces have entered Poland."
"...They're not coming to attack us, right? Please say no."
"Intel says Polish nobles were summoned first."
"...What?"
This was unexpected.
What could be the intent in calling dusty, powerless Polish nobles at a time like this?
Surely not some absurd plan to depose the Saxon elector as Polish king and have the Austrian emperor take the crown.
With Austria's arrival, further offensives were impossible anyway.
Petrovich could only pray no orders came to press the attack.
By the time Austrian forces reached the Saxony-Poland border, Friedrich was gleefully toying with the Russians.
Worried he might actually sweep them away? Thankfully, it seemed more like experimentation.
Give a man new weapons in the 18th century, and the urge to swing them at heads is irresistible.
Friedrich was testing how to swing hardest.
Truly, the great demon lord was different from the sprout.
His tactical insight demanded respect.
But then...
"Your Highness Franz, it looks plenty doable. Why not seize this chance to annex Poland outright?"
Diplomacy's best left to me.
The demon lord's head was filled with world conquest, so the potato demon lord spouting that wasn't odd.
"Annex Poland and what? What do we do with it?"
"Well... Poland's got a decent population and vast lands. Absorbing it would be a big boon."
"How do you absorb a country with that much population and land?"
Poland plus Lithuania neared ten million souls.
And 21st-century Europeans knew Poland had resisted Germanization despite every absorption policy.
Brute-force annexation? You'd swallow it only to spit it back out later.
"Maintaining the status quo is inefficient too. Saxony can't manage Poland. Russia's eyeing it hungrily."
"You're right. Ideally, Poland stays a buffer, but it lacks even that capacity now. Partition and absorption is inevitable. We just need to do it in a way that soothes local sentiments."
"Like Genoa? But Poland's shredded by noble infighting, unlike Genoa. Why not just swallow it by force—easiest option?"
In original history, when Austria, Prussia, and Russia told Poland to "die in three pieces," it barely resisted.
Some fought for it, but disunity prevented cohesion.
Still, that just sowed nationalism's seeds—ready to erupt later.
Italy had Roman identity to bind it; Poland didn't.
So, make it look like they wanted the partition.
"We've summoned key Poland-Lithuania nobles. Let's talk, then decide policy."
"Understood. Can't ignore local nobles entirely."
Friedrich griped that Polish nobles were irredeemably fractured.
My view differed.
Fractured meant deep mutual distrust.
Exploit that? Only a fool wouldn't.
"A pleasure, Your Majesty. I am Mikhau Friederik Czartoryski, Grand Judge of Lithuania and head of the Czartoryski family."
"Delighted. Franz Stefan."
The Czartoryskis led the reformist Famiglia faction, envying efficient administrations like Prussia's.
They sought Russian backing to reform Poland-Lithuania into a strong central state.
Opposed by the Potockis, now pro-Austrian conservatives clinging to tradition.
"Your Highness Franz, we were pro-Russian, but we didn't incite this invasion. We strongly condemn Russia's aggression..."
"No need for misunderstanding. I didn't summon you to assign blame."
"...Pardon?"
In this climate, pro-Russian nobles would panic—who wouldn't?
But I had zero intention of playing conqueror and lopping off heads.
"First, the Emperor's will: We have no designs on forcibly annexing or partitioning Poland-Lithuania. You may doubt it, but I'm no fool thinking we can swallow a ten-million-strong kingdom without repercussions."
"...Th-thank you!"
"That said, we can't ignore nobles who pledged fealty and begged us to expel the Russians. The Emperor, as Holy Roman Emperor, has a duty to shelter those seeking refuge under the Empire."
"...So some nobles requested Austrian troops?"
"Precisely."
Too many suspects—impossible to guess.
Everyone else would think the same.
I fed the exact same line to the Potockis next.