1855 United States Tycoon

Soon after the sun rose the next day, the Austrian army appeared in the distant plain where the morning mist had just dispersed. The first thing that came to Lieutenant Colonel Neville was the flag after another, and then the entire row of soldiers. These soldiers lined up in neat rows, one after another appeared in Neville's vision, and new queues continued to appear behind them, as if they would not end until the end of the world.

Neville put down the binoculars, feeling a bit dry and bitter in his mouth. He touched his own pocket, where there was a pill that could help him build up his courage. He wanted to take it out and swallow it, but he turned and looked at Robson watching the battle beside him. He saw that he was putting his arms on his chest, and looking at the Austrian army in the distance nonchalantly. Nothing feels at all. So he took his own hand away from his pocket again-it's still early, not the time to use this.

King Emaluel II rode a white horse and ran back and forth in front of the own army. He shouted loudly to cheer the army, and the soldiers responded with fanatical cheers. King Emaluel II had never seen his army and had such morale. He felt as if the invincible army of ancient Rome was possessed by his soldiers.

"Even the troops under Caesar's command will not have a higher morale than this, right?" King Emaluel II thought, if it weren't for "Daiwan", own troops could have such morale, then Rome's heavy light may not be a nonsense.

"The Sardinians on the opposite side seem to be very morale!" Putting down the binoculars, the Austrian commander General Giulay said to Own's adjutant, "This battle may not be a good fight!"

"General, the morale of the Italians is like soap bubbles. It blows big and looks colorful, but you just have to touch it lightly and slap it, and there is nothing left." The adjutant replied disapprovingly.

"Well, I hope so." General Giulei nodded. "But at any time, don't underestimate the enemy. Be prepared to fight a difficult battle-let the soldiers rest for a while, and then we first Attack from the left and right wings!"

"Your Majesty, the enemy's army is moving like us." An officer said to King Emaluel II.

"I saw it, let the artillery be prepared." King Emaluel II ordered.

More than twenty Napoleonic cannons have entered the gun position, the cannon's cannon jackets have been taken off, and the black hole muzzle is pointed diagonally at the sky. The observation post kept reporting the distance of the Austrian army-yesterday, they had already marked the plain and carried out a test firing to ensure the efficiency of the artillery attack. This is one of the advantages of being at home.

"Prepare..." the commander looked at the approaching Austrian army and shouted in a long voice.

"Ready..." The artillery had loaded the ammunition, aimed at the target, and was ready to launch.

"Fire!" The command finally yelled from the officer's mouth. So a soldier stretched a red-hot iron rod toward the fire door. With a "bang", a puff of white smoke was ejected from the muzzle, and the entire cannon also retreated to the rear.

Before a few soldiers could see the results of the shooting, they rushed to reset the cannon. Someone began to clear the cannon, and others were preparing to fill in medicine packages wrapped in silk.

The one who can see the effect of the shelling most clearly is the artillery commanding Lieutenant Colonel Kohler standing on a slightly higher earth platform behind him. He saw dozens of small black spots flying up like a group of black flies. From his point of view, these small black dots flew very fast at first, but soon their speed became very slow, especially when ascending to the highest point, they looked like they stopped at After flying in midair, these little black dots sank suddenly and fell into the Austrian army.

"Good fight! Hit!" Colonel Kohler clenched his fists.

The first round of shells fired by the Sardinians hit the Austrians quite accurately. A round of shells landed on the ground, then bounced, hitting the Austrian army with one head, and unceremoniously opened several bloody alleys. The soldiers who were hit by shells in the head and chest were beaten to pieces. Although they died miserably, they died all at once. And some soldiers got a shot in the leg, and the whole leg didn't know where it went. He slumped to the ground, then held his own broken leg, wailing loudly with a strange sound that seemed to be beyond the reach of humans. And the countless soldiers who had not been shelled by chance passed him stupidly, or stepped directly over him, and continued to move forward.

At this time, the Austrian artillery also sounded, but because their artillery had not conducted range measurement and test firing before, the shooting accuracy was still far inferior to that of the Sardinians. However, because the Austrians have more artillery, they still managed to get a lot of artillery into the Sardinian queue.

"It seems that the morale of the Sardinians is really high." General Guiule said while holding up his binoculars to observe, "So many shells have entered their array, and the array can still be maintained so well. It seems that the Sardinians have really worked hard. I'm sure that these guys in front of us are definitely the best troops in Sardinia. Kill them and we will win the war!"

"It would be great if these troops were also equipped with McDonald's 1857. Now we can shoot a salvo at the enemy." Standing on the high ground behind, look at the Austrian troops approaching from the two wings, Emalue. King Er II thought. He looked at the "cannon fodder" soldiers standing upright with old-fashioned front-mounted rifles. He knew that the number of artillery in his hand was far less than that of his opponents. Not very accurate, but let them play a few more rounds, their hit accuracy will also become higher. The soldiers boosted their morale by relying on the "Daliwan", but the "Daliwan" has not made them completely irrational. Standing like this will definitely hurt morale. So he ordered the messenger next to him: "Let our two wings meet up." The two cavalry immediately led their orders away from the high ground and galloped towards the two wings.

"Hey, brothers, let's move forward! Go and tell the Austrian barbarians that they dare to fight against Rome!" a captain yelled. The Sardinian line began to move neatly forward, toward the array pressed by the Austrians.

Clyde was a newly enlisted soldier, and he was so nervous that he could barely move before the battle began. Fortunately, he was given a pill at this time, saying that it could relieve tension, refresh his brain, and replenish physical strength. It’s strange to say that when Clyde took that small pill, he really didn’t feel nervous anymore. His fear seemed to be swept away by that magical pill, a brand new one that didn’t seem to belong to him. The strength quickly filled his body, making him tremble all over, wishing to rush up immediately and beat the guys opposite him severely. He even had to suppress himself so that he would not pick up the butt of the rifle, and easily put the guy in front of it so that he could stand in front.

At this time, a shell roared into their queue, and a bloody arm flew over and hung on the copper button on his shoulder. In this case, if in normal times, maybe Clyde would scream like a woman, and then faint directly like a lady should. But now, Clyde, with strength surging in every blood vessel, took the broken arm off indifferently and threw it to the ground without squinting.

At this time, the order to move forward finally came. Clyde followed the drum intently and strode forward. At this time, the soldier in front of him suddenly fell. Clyde didn't even think about it. He hurried up according to the regulations and walked in the original position of the fallen comrade-in-arms.Now, Clyde was standing in the front row, and his vision suddenly widened. The long queue of Austrians is not far away, just fifty meters away. They have stood still, aiming at them with their guns held up. If it were normal, Clyde would have frightened Clyde and ran away. But now, he is strangely not nervous at all, and even thought of: "These cowards, from such a long distance How to shoot accurately?"

"Our soldiers don't have much training. Of course, there is no need to say about marksmanship. They absolutely can't beat the Austrians in mid-to-long range shooting. However, after taking the "Strong Pill", their courage is almost as good as that of the past. The elite troops of the British Iron Duke. Therefore, your Majesty, I suggest that you simply use the tactics of the Iron Duke, without firing a single shot until you are close to 20 meters from the enemy, and then use a swift volley and subsequent bayonet. Charge to destroy the enemy.” This is the opinion put forward by the staff of King Emaluel II before the war on how to train and use cannon fodder. This opinion was accepted. Therefore, Clyde and the others did not stop, they continued to march towards the guns of the Austrians.

"Bang!" The opposite side rang out, a puff of white smoke came out of the Austrian's muzzle, and the army formation on the opposite side was immediately submerged in this mist.

"Pop!" The soldier on Clyde's left fell silently. Clyde's military cap did not know where he flew. He felt that there seemed to be a stream of heat flowing from his head, touching it. Wet his eyebrows and then muffled his eyes.

"Damn it!" He wiped his sleeve indiscriminately, and the sleeve was suddenly covered with blood-a lead bullet flew over his scalp and made a cut in it.

At this time, a gust of wind blew and the smoke dispersed some, and Clyde saw that the Austrians were panicking with bullets. The Austrians originally used three rounds of shooting. Although the firepower of each round is not large, the firepower output is indeed continuous. But in these Sardinians, there is no sound, and the more and more they do not fire. As they approached, their firing speed began to slow down, their salvos became scattered, and many people were too nervous to complete the action of reloading.

"Bang!" The Austrian fired again, but this time he fired, not even a volley, and the gunshots were sparse, not straightforward at all.

"Austrian bunnies are going home crying to find their mother, right? They must want to hold her mother's tits and eat like a baby?" Was Clyde hit this time? A series of unsuitable things for children emerged uncontrollably in his head. (One of the side effects of the virus: **High desires)

"Leading! Raise the gun! Aim!" The long-awaited voice finally rang in Clyde's ear.

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