As the thousands of soldiers of the Russian Army emerged like dark clouds on the horizon, Previdish didn't expect a massive wave of fear to surge within him.
But as a nobleman, the honor made him straighten his back forcefully, murmuring to himself: "Damn it, could your courage be less than those of the peasants and merchants?"
He heard that the Sixth Army had already suffered over 5,000 casualties in less than half a month but still stubbornly held their ground here.
With a sharp whistle, a shell landed more than thirty meters in front of him, bouncing and rolling forward.
A command from a Lieutenant nearby rang out: "Prepare—"
Previdish closed his eyes tightly, raising the Auguste 1798 rifled gun in his hands.
At the French Army's artillery position a kilometer behind him, Geiszler used his right hand to lift a basket loaded with five shells, feeling a sharp pain in his left hand hung across his chest as he exerted force.
