Chapter 304: The Guard Corps' Grand Display at Versailles
On a hill near the Champagne Corps' base, thousands of soldiers craned their necks to watch what was happening below. The General Staff had even prepared a dozen telescopes, allowing them to take turns using them.
Before long, they saw a thin white line of soldiers sprinting from the parade ground, moving at a speed that seemed unbelievable. If they were to run at that speed, they'd be exhausted after a kilometer.
Yet the soldiers of the Guard Corps maintained this high speed for the entire distance.
One of the Champagne Corps soldiers who had a turn with the telescope suddenly exclaimed, "They're carrying gear!"
Others quickly grabbed the telescope, echoing his surprise, "That's right! They've got rifles and blankets on their backs…"
A General Staff officer overheard the soldiers' discussion and smiled, raising his voice, "Each soldier is carrying 18 pounds—well, by standard measure, that's 9 kilograms of gear."
The Champagne Corps soldiers were stunned. They had just run the 5 kilometers with nothing, or more accurately, most of them had walked it, and they were still exhausted, feeling like they were about to die. Yet here were the Guard Corps soldiers, carrying such heavy loads, and they were supposed to complete the run in 22 minutes?!
About ten minutes later, the Champagne Corps soldiers watching the demonstration fell silent. From their vantage point, they could clearly see the Guards maintaining their speed as they completed the first half of the run and began the return leg.
Finally, someone murmured, "Are they monsters?"
After a moment of silence, a lieutenant sighed, "Maybe we're just that bad."
Napoleon rounded the bend in the road, feeling like his legs were about to give out, the weight of the pack on his back pressing down on him like a mountain, making every breath a struggle.
He glanced at the soldiers around him, who showed no signs of slowing, and gritted his teeth, muttering to himself, "I won't let you beat me… it's just running…"
He pushed himself harder, picking up the pace and overtaking the soldiers in front of him. Inwardly, he thought: See, it's not that hard. Come on, let's pass another one!
He didn't know how much longer he ran, but when Napoleon finally saw the parade ground gates in the distance, despite the pain in his chest and abdomen, a smile crept onto his face.
He felt that at this pace, he should pass the test.
Sure enough, as he crossed the finish line, the officer timing the run called out, "21 minutes and 19 seconds."
Napoleon clutched his stomach, fighting the urge to vomit from the intense exertion, but he was filled with a strong sense of joy—he had finally passed another test.
This damned Guard Corps, he was one step closer to conquering it!
As the last few Guard Corps soldiers crossed the finish line, the 5-kilometer cross-country demonstration came to an end. The slowest soldier had completed the run in 21 minutes and 52 seconds. All had passed.
On the distant hill, thousands of Champagne Corps soldiers stood in stunned silence.
They had always prided themselves on being one of France's elite regiments, looking down on other units, but today, they saw what true elites looked like.
The slowest soldier in the Guard Corps had run the course three minutes faster than their fastest, Captain Lacoste. And they had done it while carrying 18 pounds of gear!
This delivered a devastating blow to their proud confidence.
Anyone who had experienced battle knew the enormous importance of stamina during combat—in this era of warfare, where firepower wasn't overwhelming, battles often dragged on for hours, from sunrise to sunset.
If the enemy's stamina was significantly depleted while their own forces were still strong, they could launch a fierce assault, while the enemy would be too exhausted to do anything but defend. Additionally, having ample stamina allowed for large-scale maneuvers, such as flanking or encircling, which could be decisive in battle.
Still, some Champagne Corps officers grumbled, refusing to accept this, "It's just running. If we train harder, we should be able to do it too."
"That's right! Give me five months—no, three months—and I can run it in 22 minutes!"
But the next day's shooting test dealt them another crushing blow.
According to the assessment criteria, only a few dozen of the Champagne Corps' chasseurs—similar to modern snipers—met the passing standards.
As for the Guard Corps, only about twenty soldiers failed to pass. To be fair, accuracy with smoothbore muskets in this era was often a matter of luck—without rifling, the bullets could follow erratic paths, making it impossible to guarantee a hit even with perfect aim.
Those unlucky twenty soldiers were thoroughly teased by their comrades and, red-faced, went off to practice their marksmanship alone.
Unfortunately, Napoleon was one of those unlucky soldiers.
However, he didn't go off to practice because, as an artilleryman, his shooting scores didn't count towards his assessment. He also believed that mastering musket shooting wasn't essential for him.
Instead, he buried himself in studying logistics and supply—a key part of the officer assessment, which he was still unfamiliar with.
Joseph had no idea that if it weren't for Napoleon's firm resolve, his decision to bring Napoleon into the Guard Corps might have shattered the future emperor's confidence…
In the following days, the Guard Corps continued to "torture" the Champagne Corps with their superior assessment results.
By this point, the latter had become almost numb to it—from running to shooting, from marching drills to hand-to-hand combat, they were completely outclassed. If they didn't numb themselves to it, they wouldn't be able to bear it.
When all the assessment tasks were finally over, and the Champagne Corps soldiers were ready to breathe a sigh of relief, the Guard Corps delivered one final blow with a joint exercise on the last day.
This wasn't just any exercise; it was a grand display of elite prowess.
From the moment the Champagne Corps got a close look at the Guard Corps, tears of envy trickled uncontrollably from their mouths.
The fine-quality, sharply tailored wool uniforms of the Guard Corps were in a completely different league compared to the cheap fabric they were wearing.
The uniquely designed percussion cap muskets were said to require three fewer steps to load than their Charleville 1776s and had a range 20 paces longer.
As for things like leather boots, hats, or the benefits of free mending, they didn't even want to compare anymore…
When lunchtime came, the Champagne Corps soldiers finally reached their breaking point.
The Guard Corps soldiers were eating beef in gravy—though it was preserved meat, it had been cooked to taste ten times better. They also had boiled eggs, white bread, and vegetable soup. To drink, they had high-quality wine.
It was better than what the Champagne Corps officers ate!
The Champagne Corps soldiers looked at their own hard blocks of preserved meat, black bread, and sour wine[1] and barely restrained themselves from trying to snatch the Guard Corps' food.
But recalling the Guards' terrifying shooting and combat skills, they silently chewed their own "pig feed."
[1]Sour wine was wine that had failed to ferment properly and had a sour taste. However, because of its low price, it was still popular among commoners.
(End of chapter)
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