She changed Europe

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3) Our army is preparing to attack the Arles Island fortress after capturing the Dupour fortress. At that time, we will need to engage in a naval battle with the Danish army. We hope that the Austro-Hungarian fleet will assist us in launching the attack.

After reading the short letter, Gisela, unlike Tifa, breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that Prussia's defeat was just like in the original history. Even with the new power of magic, the Prussian army still suffered a setback in the first siege of Dupur Fortress. It seemed that the Prussian army's military tactics were not as good as those of the same period in the original history. They were still somewhat incompetent!

This was a good thing for Austria-Hungary, which viewed Prussia as the biggest threat to its regional hegemony in Germany. Of course, it was only a good thing, considering the fighting strength of the Austrian army itself... well, let's just say it was a case of hidden dragons and fledgling phoenixes...

Thirdly, did our Austro-Hungarian Empire have a navy in the Baltic Sea? Gisela searched his memory but couldn't find any information on this.

"Tifa, regarding the third point, do we have a navy in the Baltic Sea? If so, what is its size?"

"Your Highness, you must be joking. Aren't the Confederation's navies (the Confederation navies of the German principalities except Prussia) all under the command of our Empire?" Tifa said helplessly. After all, this was Sophie's sister's first time leading an army into battle, so she certainly didn't know much about military affairs. However, as a magic user and a member of the royal family, even if she didn't have actual command of the troops, if she really made a willful request, Tifa really couldn't disobey her.

"I see." Gisela rested his chin on his hand like an old man and touched his non-existent beard.

"Since it's the navy, then quickly go and get me a man!" After a moment's thought, Gisela immediately thought of the only man in the Austro-Hungarian navy who was presentable at this time.

"Which man?" Not only Tifa, but even the messenger beside her looked completely bewildered. They seemed to have no idea who the princess was referring to.

"It is General Tegethoff."

His valiant fighting at Herigolan and his glorious victory at Lissa earned the Austrian Navy a powerful and enduring reputation, making him one of the greatest naval commanders of the 19th century. (Of course, Austria doesn't even have a navy today...)

Interestingly, the famous German warship Prinz Eugen, a heavy cruiser from World War II, was originally intended to be named Admiral von Tegerthof, but was later changed to appease its ally, Italy.

“Your Highness! Anna von Tegerthof is an elegant lady, not a gentleman, and she should still be in Bavaria.” Because Tegerthof’s friend, Otto Friedrich Ludwig, recently passed away in Munich, and she was there attending his funeral.

Otto Friedrich Ludwig was Otto I, the first king of the independent Kingdom of Greece. The once-prosperous "Great Ideal" of Greece arose during his reign. His pro-Austrian stance ultimately led to the October Coup, and he was deposed. He was eventually escorted back to Bavaria by a fleet led by Trothof.

The grand ideal refers to a real nationalist demand (Granhelianism) for the restoration of the Byzantine Empire. Its core was the restoration of the Byzantine Empire and the establishment of a Great Greek state with Constantinople (Istanbul) as its capital and Athens as its economic center. This ideology remained a major domestic and foreign policy of Greece from its independence until the Second Greco-Turkish War.

"That's right, it's her! Quickly, call her here. Our allied navy needs her leadership." Gisela was counting on Miss Trothof to use her command skills to defeat the Danish navy with the allied forces' small boats.

Hearing this, it was thankful that it was just this request, which actually relieved Tifa, who was afraid of giving inappropriate instructions. It seemed that this princess was actually quite normal...

1869 January 1

4 a.m. is always the time when people are most tired and exhausted, because most people are sleeping soundly at this time. After the victory a few days ago, the Danish army also experienced a rare period of complacency. A huge victory made them, from officers to soldiers, extremely happy. Some even optimistically believed that the Prussian army, which still had tens of thousands of troops, was nothing more than a rabble.

Lars and Andrew were on night watch today. Andrew had been promoted to lieutenant due to his outstanding performance in the past few days, to replace Lieutenant Reck, who had been killed by a stray bullet during the counter-attack. Normally, as an officer, Andrew wasn't obligated to keep watch, but perhaps it was a habit instilled in him by past battles; he was vaguely worried that the Prussians might do something at night. Therefore, since the Battle of Missonde, he had taken to stand guard for a period of time every night.

"Congratulations, Andrew. Your gun-cleaning skills are as impressive as your speed of improvement. It seems I should also seriously learn how to clean guns." Lars wasn't a hopeless villain. Although he was sometimes a bit vulgar, he was genuinely happy for Andrew's promotion, after all, the Andrew brothers had saved his life in the battle a few days ago.

Andrew didn't say anything, but the smile on his face showed that he didn't mind Lars's teasing.

“Tell me how we came up with the idea of ​​using artillery and having the magic-armored units flank us.” Lars patted Andrew on the shoulder, then put his thick arm around the young man in front of him.

"Do you have a light?" Andrew took out a pack of cigarettes wrapped in white paper from his pocket, pulled one out, and held it between his fingers.

PS1: I can't wait for the Lunar New Year QAQ I want a holiday!

Chapter 118 The Brandenburg Eagle and the Snows of Jutland: Capter 53 Greetings of the God of War

“Of course, I’ve been worried about not having any cigarettes these past few days, the cigarette supply from the rear hasn’t arrived yet.” Carls took the cigarette case from Andrew and handed him the matches.

"It's in German, it's a captured item?" Andrew shrugged, tacitly agreeing with Lars's words.

"No wonder that group of people were scrambling to get to clean up the battlefield; it turns out there are all these good things." Lars, who had only recently enlisted, was clearly unaware of these battlefield perks. After the battle that day, he went straight to the logistics department to rummage for drinks.

“I used to be in the 32nd Regiment of the 6th Brigade, stationed in Flensburg. Our unit suffered from insufficient artillery and lack of magical armor cover. Actually, the Prussians’ siege tactics were quite simple: artillery bombardment combined with skirmish lines and magical armor advances.” Andrew took a deep drag on his cigarette and then exhaled a cloud of gray smoke.

"Actually, I only started smoking around this time."

"Oh?" Lars looked at the unexpectedly mature young man in front of him and couldn't help but be intrigued by his reason.

"Because the smell of burning tobacco, like the smoke from a gun firing, can numb me and make me forget that I'm still on the battlefield," Andrew said, lying flat on the ground and gazing at the starry sky.

“I understand that feeling. Every time the smoke rises, another comrade or a damned enemy dies. Brad, Bruce, Pete…” These were the comrades he had chatted, peed, and joked with that morning. None of them survived.

“Do you know? While we are celebrating here, Prussian military trains are continuously arming their soldiers and transporting them to the front lines, and their allies, the Austrians, are doing the same thing. We are not Hercules, but we still have a reason to fight the Hydra.” Andrew’s erudition came from his grandfather, Hans Christian Andersen, the world-renowned fairy tale master.

"If I were as learned as you, I would definitely become a teacher and share my knowledge with children, instead of taking up arms, my hands stained with blood, lamenting the tragedy of humanity while simultaneously plunging bayonets into the enemy's chest."

"I didn't receive much formal education. My mother was a prostitute in the Copenhagen slums. My birth was probably an accident. No one thought I should come into this world except my mother."

She is an optimistic and strong woman. She never tells me about the hardships and sorrows of life, even though she is always exhausted when she comes home every day. She earns money to support my studies, hoping that I will go to university and make something of myself in the future.

“But I ultimately let her down because I got into a fight with a student who slandered me at school and was expelled. Later, I became a street thug, stealing and robbing, and was eventually arrested by the police. Just then, the war broke out, and I was assigned to the army. Now I really just want to live an honest life and repay my elderly mother with my meager savings. She has suffered too much for me.” Karls’s experience seems to be tortuous and touching, but in fact, in this era, it is just the most realistic portrayal of the lives of hundreds of thousands of working-class people.

Andrew knew perfectly well that freedom and equality were nothing but illusions and mirages.

“It’s good that you have this intention. Many people spend their whole lives and still don’t understand this principle. This is what they call a prodigal son returning home.” Andrew took a thick book out of his bag and handed it to Carls.

“This is…” Kars looked at the book Andrew handed him with a puzzled expression.

"This is a fairy tale my grandfather gave me. I'm giving it to you now; you might need it someday." Fairy tales are dreams woven for children, but don't adults need such dreams too?

"Thank you." In a sense, this was the first gift Lars had ever received from anyone other than his mother in his decades-long life.

"I hope these books will have their day, and if possible, I hope Denmark can return to the peace it deserves." Karls, who was about to mutter these words, suddenly looked up at the sky and spoke:

"What is that!" Lars stood up and pointed to the sky. In an instant, countless orbs of light rose up on the horizon, shattering the dark night, accompanied by a huge roar.

"For a thousand years, the Titans have emerged from the abyss, their heavy steps echoing as their warhammers clashed against the metal plates of their armor, producing a sound that terrifies humanity. Demons, with shrill laughter, wield tridents, and the souls of the hunters are being judged. The judgment of all has only just begun." Andrew also looked up in awe at the scene before him, muttering strange words under his breath.

The rising ball of light traced a dazzling trail in the sky before falling toward them, accompanied by a hissing sound as it rubbed against the air.

"It's a cannonball!!!!" Andrew only realized what these things were like at the last second when the ball of light was almost upon him.

With his words, the military camp in the Dan army fortress was instantly transformed into a living hell under the barrage of cannon fire. The falling shells brought the greeting of death; countless soldiers were blown to pieces in their sleep, and the exploding powder magazines erupted in towering flames, engulfing everything around them.

Covered in blood, Andrew and Lars struggled to their feet from the swirling dust, looking up at the shells flying like meteors and the burning mess behind them. They bowed low in despair, like devout believers, for in that moment they understood the true meaning of disparity.

On January 25, 1869, the first nighttime mass artillery bombardment in human history began amidst the simultaneous firing of hundreds of cannons from the Austro-Prussian allied forces.

As the ground trembled violently, flames billowed from the cannon barrels. The Prussian artillery positions were in a frenzy. This was the first time they had deployed so many cannons in a single bombardment. The person who proposed this plan was neither Field Marshal Friedrich nor Prince Karl. Even Moltke had never seen such a concentrated use of artillery at night before.

The person who proposed the idea was their Princess Chloris, but it was obvious to everyone that the Austrian Princess Gisela, who was standing to the side swaying as if about to doze off, was the real architect of the plan. Based on the generals' understanding of Princess Chloris, she was not interested in military affairs at all (or rather, she couldn't be bothered with it), so it was highly unusual for her to offer such a suggestion.

PS1: Image from a movie about the Second Prussian War 0v0

Chapter 119 The Eagle of Brandenburg and the Snows of Jutland: Capter 54 Fierce Attack! (Vote Requested)

What was the biggest problem with nighttime artillery fire in this era? It was the accuracy of the artillery. Because of the lack of daytime visibility, no country's artillery would get up in the middle of the night to fire, partly because the results were minimal and partly because measurement was difficult.

Fortunately, the Prussian artillery had accumulated data during their firing operations a few days prior, and the Danish fortress was in a fixed location and wouldn't move easily. All of this laid the groundwork for Gisela's proposed night bombardment. Such a simple principle was self-evident to Gisela, but for most generals of that era, limited by their established thought patterns, breaking free from conventional thinking was no easy feat.

Of course, the plan was proposed by Gisela, but Gisela would never tell the Prussians herself. After all, it is not good to interfere in other people's military affairs. At this time, Chloris, who seemed to care about her a lot, was a good choice. Gisela was optimistic and generous and did not mind sharing this honor with the girl with silver-gray hair in front of her.

It is worth mentioning that Chloris was originally to be sent to the Austrian army as a liaison to promote strategic coordination between the two armies. However, because Gisela was also too lazy to directly command the army, she handed over the command of the troops back to her sister Tifa. In return, Tifa asked Chloris to take her to visit the Prussian army.

After all, the Prussian army had a clear advantage over the Austrian army in terms of both personnel and equipment. She really couldn't understand why, when the Austro-Prussian allied forces fought against the Danish army in history, the Austrian army's high command didn't learn anything useful from the Prussians, resulting in the Austrian army still using outdated muzzle-loading rifles when the two countries went to war...

Was this arrogance or carelessness? As for your claim of insufficient technical capability? The Austro-Hungarian Empire possessed Škoda, a top-tier arms factory in Europe that rivaled Krupp at the time, and its industry in Bohemia was unparalleled in Europe. Therefore, there was no reason for it to lose so badly, which is why "En" misjudged the outcome of the Austro-Prussian War.

As the future heir to the throne, Gisela had every reason to delve into his rivals and gain a comprehensive understanding of them. Unfortunately, Gisela was unaware that the beautiful Princess Chloris before him cared about nothing but understanding herself.

"Wasn't it a beautiful fireworks display?" Chloris suddenly spoke up, her tone calm, as if she were talking about something trivial.

“It’s a pity the Danes didn’t like the performance.” Gisela gently brushed her golden hair behind her ear and moved slightly to the side, keeping a little distance from Chloris.

For some reason, even though Chloris was a very charming and beautiful girl, Gisela felt a natural wariness towards her, after all, Gisela still remembered clearly how Chloris had teased her at the last banquet.

"Ha!" Gisela yawned contentedly, seemingly no longer wanting to watch this pointless slaughter. So, she stretched her arms out and turned to go back to her tent to rest.

While staying up late used to be a part of her life, ever since becoming Gisela, she has to be in bed by 9:30 every day. The lack of a phone and Wi-Fi is a major reason why she can't stay up late, but the most crucial factor is that she's still growing.

Currently, her height and build put her at a disadvantage when facing established mature women like Bismarck. However, once she grows to resemble Empress Elizabeth, she won't be intimidated anymore, since she will also be a quintessential mature woman herself...

Chloris was watching Gisela's every move out of the corner of her eye. Although she seemed to be watching the Danish army's position being bombarded in the distance, she was actually suppressing the urge to push the girl next to her. That sleepy and lazy look, those drooping ears, and the obediently swaying fox tail were constantly tugging at Chloris's heartstrings, forcing Chloris to use her left hand to forcibly hold down her eager right hand.

"Generals, please don't rush the attack. Let our men rest well after the bombardment. Tonight's beauty will be something the Danes will cherish for a lifetime." With that, Gisela left with what she thought was a friendly smile, with Chloris following closely behind.

The generals watched the two princes leave, but Moltke alone pushed up his glasses, frowned, and looked into the distance.

8:1 AM on January 25, 1869

Following the shelling at 4 a.m. last night, the Danish-controlled Dupourt fortress was in ruins. The towering fires were not completely extinguished until dawn, and the rescue of the wounded and the counting of casualties took up considerable time. At this point, the fortress garrison, from high-ranking officers to rank-and-file soldiers, was exhausted both mentally and physically.

Exhausted from working through the night to treat the wounded, Andrei and Lars fell asleep leaning against the door of the field hospital. The field hospital was already overcrowded, and the lightly wounded had to be laid out in the open ground with no available spaces, their groans and cries echoing across the fortress.

In the 19th century, when penicillin was scarce, there were no good ways to treat the wounds caused by war. In order to avoid bacterial growth and festering wounds, doctors at this time would generally choose to cut off the wounds wherever they were injured. The treatment of soldiers was more like slaughter.

"Where are our reserves?" Just then, Major General Polus, the commander of the fortress garrison, was inspecting the field hospital with a group of adjutants.

"They're still on their way and are expected to arrive this afternoon." A bespectacled adjutant wiped the sweat from his brow; his thick dark circles showed he hadn't slept well the night before.

“Those generals in the rear should really see the terrible state of our front lines.” Polus slowly walked up to a soldier whose body was wrapped in bandages, squatted down, and examined his long-gone right arm.

"Damn war." The major general had no choice but to complain. His mission was to defend Fort Dupur to the death, and he had no authority to interfere in other matters.

At this moment, the stirring sound of drums resounded across the plain. The rhythmic drumbeats and the neat bugle calls were all too familiar to the Danish soldiers present. The York Army March clearly indicated that the Prussian army was about to launch a general offensive.

The York March, also known as the Prussian March, was composed by Beethoven in 1809. The original piece was the Archduke Johan March, which was originally dedicated to Archduke Johan, the brother of the famous Austrian general Archduke Karl. However, due to the signing of the Treaty of Rohingya, York suddenly became a target of anti-French influence in the German region, and Beethoven, out of respect for him, changed the dedication to the York March.

PS1: This is a surgical procedure performed by a military doctor in that era. Because there were no antibiotics, the survival rate of soldiers was very low.

Chapter 120 The Brandenburg Eagle and the Snows of Jutland: Capter 55 The Equality of War (Seeking votes and collections)

The major general stood up, straightened his military cap, and his eyes were filled with determination and resolve.

"Summon the soldiers to prepare for defense. Send all of our able-bodied men to the defensive line, and have the magic warriors positioned behind the second line of defense to launch a counterattack when the opportunity arises." The major general glanced over and saw the sleeping Andrei and Kars. He gestured to his adjutant to wake them up, then strode towards the position.

The combined Prussian and Austrian forces that launched this attack were clearly well-prepared. In addition to each man carrying his own rifle, they were also required to carry a sandbag to serve as a temporary shelter and to fill in the trenches.

The Austrian and Prussian magical armors were also paired up and redistributed to fight. Although they lacked coordination, they had no communication barriers because both countries spoke German and shared the same language background. Crucially, the Austrian magical armor was the best shield, while the Prussian armor was the best spear. The combination of the two could compensate for the defects and deficiencies in the armor design of both sides.

A deafening battle cry erupted, and this time the Danes were dumbfounded. A scene they had never witnessed before was unfolding before them. The once-combustible, dense human wave charge was nowhere to be seen. This time, the Prussian soldiers cleverly hid behind the bulky, silver magic armor, and right behind the silver armor were black magic armor.

Some well-informed Danish soldiers immediately recognized the silver armor as Austro-Hungarian Imperial Magic Armor, while the black armor behind it was Prussian Teutonic Armor.

The allied forces advanced rapidly, relying on the shields of the Austrian magic armor. The Danes' 12-pound cannons fired head-on at the silver magic armor shields, but apart from deflecting the shells, they had no effect whatsoever.

The Danes could only watch helplessly as the allied forces surged forward with overwhelming force, unable to do anything about it. This led the Danish major general to consider organizing a suicide squad with explosives to approach the enemy's magical armor and deliver a fatal blow from below. As for his own magical armor, he would not use it lightly unless absolutely necessary, given that it was outnumbered by the allied forces.

This was how it was supposed to go, but the Allied forces stopped when they got close to the Danish rifles' firing range. Soldiers came out from behind the armor with sandbags, piled them all on the ground to temporarily build a wall of cover, and then lay down and fired at the Danish troops behind the breastwork.

Faced with this blatantly unfair tactic by the Prussians, the Danes behind the wall were utterly helpless, only able to jump up in frustration. The gray smoke wall rose unilaterally from the makeshift fortifications erected by the Prussian soldiers. Bullets clattered into the Danes' chests, preventing them from even lifting their heads.

The Danish artillery fire had little effect on this makeshift defensive line, partly because the sandbags provided cushioning, and partly because the lying Prussian soldiers were too small to be of any real purpose.

Once the first makeshift sandbag position was secured, the next wave of Prussian soldiers charged from the rear, carrying sandbags themselves, and positioned themselves behind the magical armor. In addition to carrying sandbags, they also provided extra bullets/ammunition for the soldiers in front. This time, the magical armor would lead the second wave of Prussian soldiers to break through the Danish lines. The first wave of soldiers would provide cover for the attack while also serving as a reserve force for the second wave, ready to be deployed at any time.

As the magic-armored armor advanced, the Danish artillery successfully entered the attack range of the Prussian armor, which was hiding behind the Austro-Hungarian magic-armored armor. With each attack of the magic-armored cannons, the Danish artillery was reduced to a pile of scrap metal.

At this time, the Danish army had no way to deal with the new tactics of the Prussian-Austrian coalition. In order to avoid the complete collapse of the defensive line, the soldier's intuition told him that he had to be reckless, because it was better to launch a decisive attack than to sit and wait for death.

"Prepare to attack!" The major general drew his revolver, a repeating pistol given to him by an American friend, which could play a huge role in close-quarters combat.

"Sir, wouldn't it be inappropriate to attack now?" It was the same bespectacled adjutant from before. Although he looked somewhat frail, he was actually the major general's most trusted lieutenant. It was he who persuaded him to use artillery when Andrei's soldier suggested it that day.

"Why!" The major general gripped his revolver, his eyes bloodshot with rage, staring at his adjutant as if he wanted to devour him.

"Our most important task now is to defend, to defend using the fortifications we have built. If we leave our shelters and rush out now, we will be directly exposed to the firepower of the first line of defense built by the Prussians. Even if we repel this wave of Prussian attack, our own casualties will make us unable to continue filling the lines. The reinforcements this afternoon are the key to turning the tide of the battle!" The adjutant preferred to maintain the status quo and advocated delaying the progress of the battle.

"No, we can't wait that long!" The major general waved his hand, still determined to launch a counter-charge, since turtling in defense was not his way to victory.

"We need to attack, and launch a brilliant counterattack through this offensive."

The advance of the Prussian-Austrian allied forces was incredibly smooth this time. The Danish army's firepower, which had inflicted heavy losses on the Prussian army a few days earlier, had become virtually useless, and even their deadly artillery had been destroyed one by one by the magic-powered armor. The solid walls that had once stood in their way were now as fragile as paper and could be pierced with a single poke. This ingenious tactic was all thanks to the two genius princes.

At this moment, bugle calls sounded from the Danish army, clearly indicating their intention to drag the Prussian soldiers into the close-quarters combat they were skilled in. Lars, Andrei, his brother, and most of the Danish soldiers fixed their bayonets and silently prayed, hoping that Almighty God would bless them to survive this damned war.

"Angreb!" (Danish for attack) The valiant descendants of the Vikings charged toward the Prussians with terrifying roars, the fighting blood flowing in their veins boiling.

Their ancestors once wielded battle axes and sailed in small boats, traversing the waves and leaving their mark across the oceans. They were free-spirited, brave, and warlike, bringing fear to Europe and becoming the greatest warriors.

But history remembers civilization. With the advent of the industrial age, all forms of combat that relied on the human body became worthless under the impact of machinery and industrial steam. A battle-hardened soldier could be easily killed by a weak person who had been trained for less than a month and was holding a rifle.

Peace cannot give you equality, but war can.

PS1: Just posting a little something, huh? 0v0!

Chapter 121 The Brandenburg Eagle and the Snows of Jutland: Capter 56 Breakthrough Point (Seeking Votes)

Seeing the Danes pouring out of their positions, the Prussian-Austrian allied soldiers, already prepared, raised their grenades, lit them simultaneously under their commander's orders, and hurled them at the Danes. A deafening explosion rang out, the massive shockwave and blast sending Danes flying both inside and outside the breastwork. These high explosives, prepared to counter the magic armor, had unexpectedly proven extremely effective.

"Angriff!" (This is a familiar phrase) The Prussian soldiers charged into the smoke with their rifles, throwing sandbags into the trench along the way.

Andrew, thrown by the shockwave, rolled into the trench behind him, his fate unknown. Lars also rolled into the trench in a similar state, but fortunately he remained conscious. However, the huge explosion had caused severe hearing damage, making it difficult for him to stand properly. As for Andrew's brother, he was caught in the explosion and his fate was unknown.

"Andrew!" Lars looked around but couldn't find his friend. Clearly, not everyone was as lucky as him after the explosion.

"Retreat." The officers who remained clear-headed ordered their soldiers to retreat towards the second line of defense, but it was clear that continuing to hold out at Dupur Fortress was no longer realistic, and they simply couldn't hold out until reinforcements arrived in the afternoon...

At this moment, the captain next to Andrew noticed Lars standing there blankly, so he reached out and grabbed him by the collar, trying to pull him away to the rear of the battlefield.

"I'm going to stay here!" Lars couldn't hear the voice but understood the captain's meaning. However, he didn't want to abandon his comrades and friends, so he slapped the captain's hand away and turned to run ahead.

Faced with his subordinate's rude behavior, the captain could only sigh helplessly and let it go, after all, he couldn't stop a madman who wanted to die.