"Hold on, let me direct the firing."
Franz stopped Colonel Dmitro, who was about to shout the command to fire, and walked forward with a smile, ready to act as a commander for once.
"Your Majesty, no, Your Majesty..." General Wigel's heart was already collapsing. What was going on today? With the emperor stepping forward to command, he felt like his position as army commander might be coming to an end.
Franz looked at Colonel Damir and asked with a smile, "You are a Croatian, Colonel, aren't you?"
Colonel Damir straightened up, gave a standard military salute, and then replied in fluent german with powerful emphasis, "Yes, Your Majesty, I am a Croatian, from Zagreb."
"Hmm, very good, Colonel. Please step back a little and let me take command." Franz nodded and took a step forward.
"Soldiers of the first rank, I am your Emperor Franz. I promise here that anyone who hits the target within three shots can have dinner with me tonight and will be rewarded with three months' pay." Franz shouted loudly to the soldiers in german.
For a while, there was some commotion among the soldiers. Those who understood german translated for their companions. Some soldiers began to regret why they weren't in the first rank.
Franz didn't wait long before giving the order.
"Ready!" Whoosh, most of the soldiers in the first rank raised their Lorenz rifles immediately.
"Aim!" The soldiers focused their attention on the target 260 meters away.
"Fire!"
Bang, bang, bang, with bursts of black smoke rising, the first round of firing was completed.
Franz waved away the smoke in front of his eyes and thought, "Smokeless powder is still needed. This smoke obstructs the view too much."
...
Among the 60 soldiers in the first rank, only 8 hit the target after three shots. Amidst cheers, these eight people would have the honor of attending the emperor's dinner.
Franz looked at the excited soldiers in the first rank, then turned to face the remaining soldiers, raised his voice, and shouted, "All other soldiers participating in the exercise, you will receive one month's pay and 30 rounds of ammunition. Shoot at the targets to your heart's content!"
Many people were stunned. Ammunition, ammunition was not important, but there was one month's pay. "Long live the emperor!" Someone reacted and shouted loudly.
After some of the surrounding people translated for some of the new recruits, the cheers grew louder, although some might have been shouting in Polish.
Franz and a group of generals walked out of the exercise ground and discussed the issues of the exercise with Baron Hess, the chief of general staff.
Suddenly, "Wigel." Franz called out the name of the commander of the Ninth Army.
"Yes, Your Majesty." General Wigel, sweating profusely, wiped his face again, unbuttoned a button on his clothes, and bravely walked forward from the back of the line.
Before Franz could speak, General Wigel said with a hint of a crying voice, "Your Majesty, I have failed to manage the army properly. I request that you remove me from my position as commander of the Ninth Army."
Franz couldn't help but feel a little amused when he heard this. Did the generals in Austria like to resign so much?
Baron Hess, the chief of general staff, had to explain, "Your Majesty the Emperor did not summon you to dismiss you."
"Hahaha, Wigel, I heard from the soldiers that you have a good relationship with them and are a good officer. How could I possibly dismiss a good officer?"
Wigel couldn't help but feel a surge of joy in his heart. It seemed he was safe. However, his face remained stern as he said, "Thank you for your leniency, Your Majesty. I, Wigel, will certainly reorganize the troops properly."
Franz looked at this somewhat chubby, usually cheerful army commander and found his stern face a little comical, so he couldn't help but laugh again.
Franz put on his white gloves and slowly got into the carriage, leaving a sentence behind at the same time.
"Wigel, things are not that simple. Write me a detailed report on the training situation of the Ninth Army, tonight."
"Understood, my Your Majesty." Wigel tried his best to maintain a stern face as he watched Franz depart.
After Franz had gone far, Wigel took out his handkerchief again and kept wiping his sweat, thanking God for his protection, thank the Lord.
.........
Kingdom of Sardinia, Turin.
In a spacious and bright room in the Savoy Palace, many servants were walking around carrying trays. A banquet to welcome Emperor Napoleon III was being held here.
The main guest of the banquet, Emperor Napoleon III of the French Second Empire, was holding a glass of red wine and talking with his dear cousin, Prince Napoleon-Jerome.
Prince Napoleon-Jerome was already 37 years old, quite old. His height had obviously inherited the tradition of the Bonaparte family, being somewhat short and very obese. The fat on his face made him look a bit fierce, but despite this, he was still very lucky to have married a young and beautiful wife.
The daughter of the King of Sardinia, Princess Maria Clotilde, who was only 15 years old.
Please do not be surprised. In fact, in Europe at that time, the age of marriage in various countries was indeed very early. In this era where not getting married by the age of 20 was considered an old maid, it was quite a normal political marriage for Princess Clotilde to marry at the age of 15.
And the newlywed Prince Jerome was complaining bitterly to his cousin, Emperor Napoleon III, with a troubled expression, "Brother, alas, although Princess Clotilde has married me, she, she..."
(One of the conditions for Emperor Napoleon III to help the Kingdom of Sardinia was that King Victor Emmanuel II of Sardinia would marry his 15-year-old daughter to Prince Napoleon-Jerome.)
"What's wrong, my dear brother? Princess Clotilde is a recognized beauty. Is there anything wrong with the match I made for you, brother?"
Emperor Napoleon III looked at his brother, who was hesitating to speak, and glanced at the attendants nearby. The surrounding attendants were very perceptive and slightly retreated, leaving private space for the two harmonious brothers.
"Princess Clotilde is unwilling to submit to me, Uncle." Prince Napoleon looked around, then quietly leaned into Emperor Napoleon III's ear and said, "On our wedding night, she held a dagger and said she would kill me."
...
Emperor Napoleon III couldn't help but look at his somewhat foolish brother with some exasperation. You are so strong and have been training in the army. If she stabbed you, I estimate it would only scrape your skin.
But after all, they were blood relatives, so Emperor Napoleon III had to think of a solution for his brother's lifelong happiness.
"How about this? After this war ends, bring Princess Clotilde back to Paris. Once in Paris, she won't be able to do as she pleases. During this time, you focus on leading your Fifth Army and fight well. I will have King Victor Emmanuel II communicate with his dear daughter."
"Hmph," Emperor Napoleon III sneered and continued, "You must remember, the Sardinia are begging us now."
"Then thank you, brother."
Seeing that Prince Jerome was still a little unhappy, Emperor Napoleon III whispered, "Sardinia women are still very elegant and know their place. Look at the Countess of Castiglione."
The Countess of Castiglione was the niece of Prime Minister Cavour of the Kingdom of Sardinia, and he had given her to the current Emperor Napoleon III as his mistress.
As the two brothers talked, lewd smiles involuntarily appeared on their faces.
....
