Wearing British clothes as a second-generation aristocrat

48. Battle of Asayer 2

Wellesley didn't even look up; he simply pointed at Major Malcolm.

"First, war itself is an adventurous game."

"Secondly, I'm not asking for your opinion, but rather assigning operational tasks."

With just two sentences, Major Malcolm was rendered speechless.

Wellesley straightened up from the map and said calmly, "But, gentlemen, this is not gambling. I have four reasons."

First, the dry riverbed provides excellent concealment, making it highly unlikely that nighttime operations will be detected.

Secondly, the old brick kiln was located on a reverse slope, making it invisible from the direction of the main Allied forces.

Third, the soldiers of the Highland Brigade are the most elite in the entire army, skilled in close combat and surprise attacks.

Fourth, and most importantly.

Wellesley confidently stated, "The combined forces of Cynthia and Bornsler are far from monolithic. Bornsler's cavalry is on the right flank, furthest from the left-wing artillery positions. When we launch a surprise attack on the left flank, Bornsler will most likely observe rather than immediately provide reinforcements. Cynthia's infantry will need time to adjust their formation and turn. This three to five-minute time difference is crucial for the Highland Brigade to complete its mission."

Wellesley looked around at everyone: "Any other questions?"

The plan is clear, and the risks are also obvious.

All that's needed now is to execute it.

No one answered.

According to Wellesley's plan, Colonel Blackney's infantry brigade was responsible for a feint attack on the front. They were not to actually attack, but to project the appearance of a full-scale offensive, using every means to draw the enemy's attention and firepower.

Subsequently, after the feint attack began, Captain Blake's artillery concentrated its bombardment on the enemy's central line, especially on any troops that might be mobilized to support the left flank.

Malcolm went to the Highlands Brigade to deliver orders. He told them that this operation would determine the outcome of the entire campaign and the future of South India. They pounced like tigers, tearing apart the enemy artillery. It was either victory or death.

"Yes, General!" The men stood at attention, saluted, and prepared to turn and leave.

At this moment, Dugan couldn't help but ask, "General, are you sure Cynthia's main force is all here?"

Upon hearing this, everyone in the tent turned their attention to Dugan, as if they were looking at a complete fool.

Wellesley was also taken aback, but he didn't reply immediately. Instead, he walked to the washbasin stand, splashed cold water on his face, and water droplets dripped down his thin chin.

Then, Wellesley glanced at Dugan. "Colonel Dugan, you can save your ideas for after the victory celebration."

Dugan knew that Wellesley was subtly expressing his displeasure at his interruption, but as a time traveler, Dugan clearly remembered the details of the Battle of Asaye.

Prior to this battle, British intelligence was flawed, which led Wellesley to misjudge the situation, putting himself in a very passive position. In the end, he only won the Battle of Assaye by a bit of luck.

However, Dugan himself may not be so lucky.

"General, if I were Cynthia, I wouldn't concentrate all my main forces here. Instead, I would spread them out, stretching for at least several miles." Dugan ignored the gazes of the people around him and walked straight to the map.

"If that's the case, then Cindy's army is spread out on the north bank of the Ketner River, no more than 6 miles from us. This distance means that the plan for a decisive battle has completely failed. Within 18 hours at the latest, Cindy's massive cavalry will be able to locate the Highland Brigade and take the initiative. At that point, there will be no sneak attack, but rather a one-sided massacre."

Wellesley didn't speak, but stared intently at Dugan.

Dugan met Wellesley's gaze without flinching.

The atmosphere inside the tent became tense.

However, no one stepped in to smooth things over; everyone was happy to see how someone with connections and influence got humiliated after contradicting their boss.

A dozen seconds later, Wellesley's expression began to relax, and he made a surprising decision: after deciding to leave the infantry and supplies behind, he would lead the 19th Dragoon Regiment and the 4th Local Cavalry Regiment to conduct reconnaissance before making a final decision.

"Phew..." Dugen also breathed a sigh of relief.

Wellesley proceeded with the preparations for the battle in an orderly manner, and no unusual events occurred that were beyond his predictions.

Just when his colleagues, including Colonel Stevenson, thought Dugan was doomed, things took a turn for the better.

A patrol of the 19th Dragoon Regiment brought along several Indian merchants who were preparing to sell food to the Cindy army. Upon questioning them, Wellesley was astonished to learn that the main force of the Cindy army had not actually struck the plains in front of them as previously reported, but rather what Dugan had said.

"Luck, absolutely luck," was the opinion of his colleagues.

But Wellesley didn't care about any of that; he believed that Dugan was someone sent by God to save him.

It must be said that Wells always used a bold military style, but he was not reckless.

After several days of investigation, Wellesley finally discovered Cynthia's weakness.

On one occasion, a military meeting was held in a tent, and this time, Dugan was allowed to stand next to Wellesley.

Wellesley pointed to the map and said, "It was brilliant of the Cynthian army to choose to protect themselves with two rivers, making any frontal attack a suicide mission, but Cynthia certainly didn't expect this to be a huge, even devastating, weakness."

At this point, Wellesley raised his head and looked at his brave officers.

However, most of the officers seemed not to understand what was going on, their eyes shining with a clear but bewildered light.

Wellesley looked at Dugan with some disappointment and then with expectant eyes.

At first, Dugan kept his eyes down, pretending not to know anything. But Wellesley was staring straight at him, and Dugan felt that if he didn't play the straight man, he might really offend his boss.

"I think what the general meant was this: the two rivers converge to the east of the Cindy's army, forming a narrow triangular area. If they cross the river here, it's equivalent to the rivers sandwiching the main force of the Cindy's army. Only a portion of the Cindy's army can participate in the battle; even if they have more troops, they will only be bystanders in the battle."

"Dugan said."

Wellesley was pleased with Dugan's comprehension, then turned to look at the other officers again.

The other officers weren't stupid either; one look at Wellesley's expression told them that Dugan was right.

Wellesley slammed his fist into the triangular area. "We're now engaged in a near one-on-one battle with the elite Polman Brigade of the Cindy Army."

On September 23, the Battle of Asayer began in the early morning mist.

The first phase of the battle proceeded exactly as Arthur had planned.

Colonel Blackney's infantry brigade, arrayed in neat lines in the morning light, slowly advanced toward the Allied central front as war drums sounded.

The soldiers, carrying bayonets-fixed smoothbore muskets, walked heavily with solemn expressions.

Ahead of them, flags fluttered on the Allied positions, and the black muzzles of cannons, like countless eyes, coldly watched the approaching red column.

When the British troops were within about 800 yards, the Allied artillery positions on the left flank opened fire.

That was the first salvo.

More than thirty cannons simultaneously spewed flames and thick smoke, while solid iron balls and grapeshot ripped through the air with deathly whistles as they crashed into the advancing British ranks.

In an instant, dirt, rubble, severed limbs, and blood mingled and flew into the air. A clear gap appeared in the ranks; soldiers fell, their screams drowned out by the even more intense barrage of artillery fire.

But the British troops did not stop. The drums continued to beat, and the ranks regrouped amidst the officers' shouts, and they continued to advance.

"Maintain formation! Don't stop!" Colonel Blackney shouted hoarsely from his horse.

A solid shot whizzed past him and struck a flag bearer behind him, smashing the flag bearer and the flagpole in two.

A second round of shelling followed immediately.

This time it was shrapnel; hundreds of small lead balls were sprayed in a fan shape, like a giant iron broom sweeping across the British army ranks.

Another swarm of soldiers fell like wheat being harvested. Chaos began to break out in the ranks, and some new recruits tried to turn and run away in terror, only to be whipped back by the officers behind them with the back of their swords.

"Artillery, fire!" Captain Blake roared from behind Blakeney.

On the British artillery positions, twenty field guns roared, and shells flew toward the Allied central lines.

However, the distance was still far, and most of the shells landed in front of the position, only raising a cloud of dust.

This was a feint attack; its purpose was not to cause significant casualties, but to attract attention, create pressure, and make the Allied forces believe that this was the main direction of the British attack.