I am the Crown Prince of France

chapter 36: Blood and Courage

"650 men?" Wolster immediately protested. "That's my entire cavalry force! You don't have the authority to command them..."

Captain Dubois didn't let him finish and smiled. "You can give me your cavalry, or you can face the Prussians on your own."

"No, please…" The Dutch commander reluctantly waved his hand, giving in. "Fine, the cavalry is yours to command. We mustn't fight among ourselves at a time like this."

"Very wise decision!" Dubois turned to the curly-haired French lieutenant. "Andre, proceed with the plan. How soon can you set off?"

Andre saluted. "Sir! My men are ready to go at any time. However, the Dutch cavalry may need some additional time to prepare."

Dubois nodded. "They are under your command now. Teach them how to be more efficient."

"Yes, sir!" Andre replied and left the tent.

Dubois then addressed the remaining Dutch officers in the tent. "So, are we all agreed to take the initiative and attack the Prussian vanguard?"

The officers reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"Excellent. Thank you, gentlemen." Dubois walked over to the map and pointed to the location of the Waver River. "Colonel Wolster, please position the Hague Guards here."

One of the Dutch officers grumbled, "There are no more Hague Guards; they're all provincial militia now."

Dubois dismissed the comment with a nod. "Fine, whatever they're called now. The important thing is they'll be mixed with my artillery and stationed here to await the Prussian vanguard."

He continued, "The 'Free Corps' will form a line 200 meters south to absorb the first wave of the Prussian assault."

The "Free Corps" referred to the militia formed by the Dutch Patriot faction, while the Hague Guards were the elite forces loyal to the former Stadtholder William V. Their battle capabilities were clearly very different. However, the Hague Guards had participated in ousting William V, so their loyalty to the States-General wasn't in question.

A Dutch officer immediately objected, "You're just using the Free Corps as cannon fodder! Why don't the French take the front line?"

Wolster raised his hand to stop him. "Captain Dubois is right. Without veteran troops holding the rear, the Free Corps would quickly crumble in the face of the Prussians."

Dubois, however, remained calm. "The Free Corps doesn't need to engage in a death struggle. Once they make contact with the Prussians, they can pull back to the sides. My concern is whether they are trained well enough to follow these tactical maneuvers without falling into disarray."

Wolster suddenly straightened up, his voice firm. "I will personally command the Free Corps."

Dubois nodded and continued, "Next, we will..."

Under his direction, the map began to show a detailed plan, with positions marked for the Dutch and French troops in the narrow 2.5-kilometer stretch between the Waver River and Abcoude Lake.

…

South of Amstelveen.

"Report!" A scout rode up to Andre, pulling on his reins and saluting. "Prussian forces spotted 3 kilometers to the east—over four thousand strong, mostly infantry, with some cavalry."

Andre nodded. This must be the Prussian vanguard. He immediately turned and gave the order, "Move the entire force one kilometer westward. Keep it quiet, and watch out for Prussian scouts."

"Yes, sir!"

Andre glanced at his pocket watch and then consulted his map. According to earlier intelligence, the Prussian main force was 15 kilometers away, stationed downstream of the Waver River. At their current pace, he estimated they could outflank the Prussians by noon the next day.

As expected, at 2 p.m. the following afternoon, his scouts reported spotting a large Prussian supply convoy, guarded by over three thousand troops.

Andre ordered his men to form up on the western side of the Waver River, noticing his palms were sweaty.

He was only two years out of military school, and this was his first time commanding troops in battle. It was impossible not to be nervous. Originally, he had been the deputy commander of this cavalry company, but when the captain fell ill with dysentery on the way to Holland and had to return to France for treatment, Andre had taken over.

As he looked out over the plains and the river, worry crept into his mind.

He wasn't afraid of facing the Prussians. The mission was to harass, not engage in full-scale combat, and even if it came to a battle, he had faith in the courage and blood of his men to overcome the enemy.

Five days.

Even if he were to die, he was certain his sword would lie across his fallen body, between him and the Prussian soldiers.

But what worried him was what would happen after those five days.

After the French volunteers and Dutch troops delayed the Prussians for five days, would the Prussians really retreat?

His uncle had used his connections to discover that this entire plan had been devised by the Prince—a thirteen-year-old boy.

Andre tried to push these thoughts away. He wasn't afraid of dying; dying in battle was a soldier's destiny. What scared him was dying in vain. Especially since he had come to Holland as a "private citizen," if the Patriots lost, the military might not even acknowledge his sacrifice.

He could only hope that the "Son of God" was as miraculous as the rumors said.

Lost in thought, Andre was jolted back to reality by a scout's report. "Sir, the Prussian convoy is approaching."

Andre's eyes lit up. He raised his hand and shouted, "Attack!"

The French cavalry led the charge, with the former Dutch guardsmen following closely behind as they galloped toward the Prussian supply convoy.

From a distance, the Prussians sounded the alarm, and their infantry quickly formed a dense line formation, muskets and bayonets pointed forward, ready to defend.

Dust filled the air as hooves thundered across the ground. Though still far from the Prussians, Andre raised his Charleville 1728 carbine and fired in their direction.

His cavalrymen followed suit, the sounds of musket fire echoing across the battlefield as smoke filled the air.

But at 400 meters away, the bullets had no chance of hitting their mark.

Nevertheless, the Prussian commander grew tense, seeing nearly a thousand cavalry approaching. He feared this might be the main Dutch force.

After firing his shot, Andre quickly wheeled his horse southward, leading his men in a swift arc that carried them 300 meters past the Prussian lines before riding off.

For over twenty minutes, the Prussians stood ready, waiting for an attack that never came. Just as they were about to regroup and continue their march, more cavalry appeared from the rear, accompanied by more gunfire.

The Prussian commander cursed and ordered his men to form up once more, but the cavalry simply circled them and galloped away.

With too few horsemen to give chase, the Prussians were forced to remain on the defensive.

Andre repeated this tactic several times, coming and going, harassing the Prussians until nightfall when reinforcements finally arrived to support the convoy. Only then did he call off the attack.

After a few hours' rest in a nearby forest, Andre gave the order to move north under the cover of night, heading straight for the main Prussian force.

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