Chapter 1567: Chapter 1473: Battle with Severe Cold · Part 2

Vitgenstein instructed the staff to gather these horses, and then turned his attention to the most important issue at hand—

Where did Madaliniski’s forty thousand troops go?

He had someone bring a map, frowned and pondered for a long time, suddenly his eyelid twitched: "Damn it! Could it be the Poles are fleeing toward Kaluga?"

Kaluga is southeast of Dorogobuzh, a relatively affluent city around Moscow.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt it was so.

The Poles must be starving, preferring to abandon a large number of horses to lure their army to move west, creating a gap in the south.

Then they quickly headed south to Kaluga to snatch food!

Sweat seeped from Vitgenstein’s forehead.

The south side of Madaliniski is his defense zone. If the Poles slip to Kaluga, he will definitely bear the greatest responsibility...

He hurriedly shouted to the order officer beside him: "Nikolayevich, order the whole army to move south immediately!"

"Yes, General!"

"Also, report to General Kutuzov that the Poles may attack Kaluga. Let him send reinforcements!"

...

In the dense forest southwest of Dorogobuzh, Madaliniski tidied the collar of the major in front of him, instructed: "Antony, be more careful."

The officer revealed an indifferent smile: "Rest assured, General. I’m still waiting for you to award me a medal in front of the Łazienki Palace!"

He said no more, turned and called the nearly thousand soldiers beside him, all stepping on the snow heading east.

Madaliniski waited until their backs disappeared, then sighed heavily, turned his horse, and continued forward with the main force: "May Jesus bless these Polish heroes."

He had already sent out three such squads.

Although he distributed much of the remaining supplies to them, they are about to enter Russian territory, and the hope of returning to Poland alive is still very slim.

At this point, the Madarinsky Corps basically abandoned all the baggage, with each soldier only carrying over ten days of rations, advancing lightly.

Contrary to intuition, not actually having horses would not significantly reduce the army’s marching speed. Moreover, when encountering bad weather, light foot travel might be even faster.

Because the grass needed by horses weighs far more than the soldiers’ rations. And moving carts carrying logistical materials in the ice and snow is extremely difficult.

If the cannon and most of the ammunition were discarded, the army could even walk an extra ten kilometers per day.

Of course, this would cause the Madarinsky Corps to lose most of its combat power, but their current goal is to escape the predicament as quickly as possible, definitely not to engage the Russian Army.

Four days later, Madaliniski’s troops successfully crossed the frozen upper Ok River—Vitgenstein had been drawn to the west of Dorogobuzh, so they encountered no obstruction along the way.

And because Kutuzov turned hundreds of kilometers into a no-man’s land to prevent the Polish Army from obtaining food from Russian villages, no Russian farmers reported the whereabouts of the Poles to him.

After another six or seven days, when Madaliniski reached a point 40 kilometers east of Bryansk, the remaining dozens of reconnaissance cavalry reported to him, saying they found signs of activity around Bryansk City.

And activity means food.

But after hesitating repeatedly, Madaliniski decided to strictly follow Marshal Kosciuszko’s orders—in fact, it’s Saint-Cyr’s retreat plan—maintaining distance from Bryansk and continuing quietly southward.

...

More than twenty shabby carts departed from Kaluga, slowly heading northwest through the thick snow, discerning the location of the road.

A Russian captain walking in the middle of the convoy held a pipe, chatting dirty jokes with the officers beside him, occasionally bursting into obscene laughter.

No wonder they were so relaxed, the Polish Army was over a hundred kilometers away in Dorogobuzh, and Vitgenstein’s twenty thousand troops were still blocking in front of them.

Actually, the supplies on their carts were meant for Vitgenstein’s corps.

After the war started, all residents west of Moscow were forcibly relocated, causing a massive population influx into Kaluga.

These officers recently bought quite a few cheap and healthy serfs, currently discussing enjoying themselves at the technical institute after completing this mission—now the technical institute in Kaluga is full of fresh "goods".

The leading captain glanced at the position of the sun, just about to order the convoy to stop for lunch, when a cry suddenly came from in front of the convoy, "It’s the Poles!"

"Be careful, they’re coming this way!"

"Form ranks! Where is everyone? Quickly form ranks!"

However, the Russian soldiers, who had always been on guard relaxedly, were still in a panic, when the ten or so columns in front quickly closed in and spread out into rows.

The Polish Army had already fully adopted the French manual two years ago.

With a volley from the attacking Poles, Russian soldiers preparing to defend immediately scattered and fled.

The leading Russian captain hurriedly ordered the carts to turn around, only to see another group of Poles appearing behind.

Another series of gunshots rang out, the Russians had to run into the bushes on both sides.

Major Anthony Nalevsky loudly directed the soldiers to guard beside the road, personally leading people to burn bags of food and oats.

Half an hour later, they retreated south in thick black smoke, with more than a hundred bags of food loaded into their horses from the Russians’ carts.

Yes, their mission was to ambush transport convoys around Russian cities.

Saint-Cyr knew well, winter is equally cruel to both Poles and Russians.

Especially with the villages near the battlefield destroyed, the Russian Army also had to supply from far places.

Who says only Russians can attack the Polish logistical convoys?

Poles can counterattack too!

Two days later.

The engineer battalion commander saluted Vitgenstein: "General, the ice is fairly firm, soldiers and horses should be able to pass. Heavy artillery still carries significant risks."

Vitgenstein frowned: "Then quickly build a floating bridge!"

The Polish Army had shown very strong combat capability earlier, he was unsure if he could defeat them without cannons.

He looked at the staff beside him again: "Has the supply not arrived yet?"

"I’ve already sent people to urge, General..."

Before the staff could finish speaking, a cavalryman came swiftly, shouting loudly: "Our convoy was attacked near Yemei Village. Major Yefimov said the new batch of supplies will depart in two days."

"Bastards!" Vitgenstein stomped hard on the snow beneath his feet, as if it were the damned Poles, "These guys indeed went to Kaluga!"

To accelerate the chase, he only carried a week’s supply. Without replenishment, he might starve before the Poles did.

Night fell.

The west side of Vitgenstein’s camp suddenly burst into flames among the bushes—since the villages along the way were burned down by the Poles, the Russian Army had to camp outdoors.

The warning drum sounded immediately, and twenty thousand Russian soldiers struggled until three in the morning