Chapter 244: Turn Defeat into "Victory"
In the Kingdom of East Africa, First Town, at the Kivite Palace:
"Recently, how is the reorganization of the new army going?" King Constantine asked the officials of East Africa.
"Your Majesty, the current progress is at eighty percent. We've dismantled and reorganized the original troops, and based on their past achievements, we've promoted a batch of capable individuals from the last operation to serve as officers in the new army."
"Alright, once the reorganization is complete, send the information to my office," Constantine instructed.
"Oh, one more thing, what's going on with the Portuguese lately? Have they taken over the southern shore of Lake Malawi?"
"I haven't heard anything about that. Our troops stationed near the border of the South Salzburg Province haven't seen any trace of the Portuguese forces. Our scouts haven't gone deep into the southern part of Malawi, but within two hundred li south of South Salzburg Province, they haven't spotted a single Portuguese," said Merck.
"You don't suppose they still haven't set out?" speculated von der Leyen.
"Probably unlikely. It's already been a few months. It didn't take us that long to occupy such a huge swath of the southwest," Merck responded.
"I recall the Portuguese must have set out. Two months ago, our intelligence people in Maputo reported that the Portuguese were organizing a group heading inland. There were not many of them—only a few hundred. We didn't pay it much mind back then, but by comparing the timing, it's likely that's the force from Mozambique colony aiming to conquer Malawi," Felix said.
"A few hundred men is enough to take a native kingdom, but achieving effective control might not be so easy. Unless the natives become fools willing to be the Portuguese's slaves," commented Svit with a laugh.
"Maybe that Portuguese force encountered some sort of unstoppable calamity and got wiped out. A few hundred men can disappear in a single flash flood—Mozambique does have quite a bit of rainfall, and the rivers flood regularly," von der Leyen remarked.
"Forget about those Portuguese. Whether they capture Malawi or not doesn't really concern us. Let's aim to finish reorganizing the army by July. Then we can charge into the interior lands at full tilt," King Constantine concluded.
…
South of the southern part of the Kingdom of Malawi, in the Chipoka region, a squad of Portuguese men was resting. Suddenly, something shot out from the nearby forest.
"Watch out, Ross!" Squad leader Anthony tackled Ross to the ground.
The mysterious shadow from the woods revealed itself to be an arrow. It whistled over Anthony's and Ross's heads before finally landing in a clearing some distance away.
"Damn it! Don't just stand there—fire!" shouted Anthony.
Only then did the Portuguese soldiers scramble to load their guns, firing wildly toward where the arrow had come from. The forest leaves tumbled down under their bullets.
Just like in the past few days, no result at all?
"Damn it, these guys got away again. If any of them falls into my hands, I'll rip off their skin," Anthony said angrily.
While Anthony was complaining and the Portuguese soldiers were reloading, a moment ago in the patch of forest they'd shot at, a "green grass monkey" suddenly sprang up from the ground, darting deeper into the woods in the blink of an eye.
"Not good! We've been tricked?"
Anthony realized too late. Although that "grass monkey" was covered in green leaves as camouflage, a glimpse of the pitch-black skin beneath as it ran away was proof enough.
"Captain, should we chase?" one soldier asked timidly.
"Chase? Hell no! Can't you see one guy alone just toyed with you all? And we can't barge into thick woods. How do you know there aren't traps waiting for us? If I hadn't been paying attention, Ross would be meeting God right now! So, all you rookies, listen up. I don't care who you were before, but from here on, obey my orders or none of us will leave here alive!" Anthony scolded.
Anthony was inwardly exasperated. This thrown-together team was truly hard to manage. They had no sense of battlefield alertness, and their discipline was abysmal.
Still, he couldn't entirely blame them. Most were sailors, not used to traveling in these inland savanna and rainforest settings. Even though it was on land, it might not be any safer than the ocean, where they were used to pirating.
…
In the rear:
"Idiots! Even a bunch of natives are more than you can handle. What do you all do? Trying to let those Prussian savages laugh at our great Portuguese kingdom?"
The Mozambique colony's commander of the Malawian Expeditionary Force, Burlede, was roaring furiously.
He had every reason to be furious. This time, Portuguese Mozambique colony had deployed more than five hundred men plus three thousand native auxiliaries to attack the southern part of the Malawi Kingdom.
But after three months, they'd only pushed as far as the Chipoka area. Worse, their ammunition was nearly depleted, and conquering Malawi's southern region was nowhere in sight.
"Commander, you can't blame the troops for lack of effort. The natives around Lake Malawi are cunning. Whenever they see us from afar, they run off. Then, as soon as we move on, they sneak out of the forests and grass. Our manpower is too limited to handle them. Plus, the weather here is very wet and hot due to Lake Malawi, so even regular marches cause significant casualties," said Lieutenant Charvis.
"Lieutenant Charvis, I don't want excuses! We're Europeans, and we arrived in Mozambique earlier than those Prussian savages. Why haven't we encountered the same success as them?"
"Commander, though Prussians are barbaric, they excel at land warfare. We Portuguese are a traditional naval power, so, put bluntly, fighting inland is not where we excel.
Charvis's explanation was quite neat: Prussia is a continental power that fights on land as though it were home, while Portugal is a maritime nation, clearly more comfortable on islands and coastlines.
Burlede wanted to lash out further, but after some thought, he realized Charvis's reasoning made sense.
"Moreover, our Mozambique force here was hastily thrown together. Honestly, the Mozambique colony has been peaceful for years, so we can't display much combat strength," Charvis quickly added.
"What you say may be somewhat reasonable. But how do we finish our mission now? And we're short on ammunition as well. If we keep fighting, so many casualties—our colonial government will hold you accountable." Burlede responded.
Though Burlede was named the army commander for this expedition, he was just there to collect credit. With connections up top, any military failure was pinned on Charvis.
Cold sweat streamed down Charvis's face. Thinking hard, a sudden idea popped into his head. He turned to Burlede and said, "Commander, do you recall the heavy rain a few days ago?"
"Of course! My coffee pot got drenched, and I couldn't even light it. I had no hot coffee that day," said Burlede.
A spendthrift aristocrat, Charvis sneered inside. Still, outwardly he spoke nicely: "Commander, consider that. A downpour is most likely to cause flooding in the rivers and mountain torrents. The area around Lake Malawi is quite hilly. Why don't we just, shall we say, 'polish up' the battle record in our reports?"
"How do we 'polish it up'? Look at the mess we're in," Burlede asked, intrigued.
"Commander, we can say that under your heroic leadership, our troops advanced at lightning speed. But man's plans can't beat the will of Heaven. Just as we were about to take the entire southern region of Malawi, the main force was struck by a flash flood, so…"
"That's a good idea, but how do you ensure nobody finds out?"
"Our own men, that's easy—there aren't many left. We'll unify our statements. As for those natives, besides the ones who ran away or died, we still have more than a thousand. We can simply get rid of them here. When the colonial government asks, we say they scattered in the flood, while our valiant Portuguese soldiers, inspired by you, stuck together in the crisis…"
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