Chapter 479: The Importance of Presentation
The war rages on, but Franz is already laying out plans for post-war development in Africa. At this juncture, the Anglo-Boer War has morphed into a full-blown clash between Britain and Austria.
In the grand tapestry of shifting international dynamics, the South African battlefield is merely a single thread. With the world now fully divided, the possibility of continued restraint among the powers is becoming increasingly improbable.
Future colonial skirmishes are inevitable. This South African conflict is just a prelude, a warm-up match to test new ways of resolving international disputes.
Survival of the fittest has become the world’s prevailing theme, with competition among the great powers intensifying. The strong seize more of the pie, growing ever more powerful, while the weak are further oppressed, their survival space shrinking more and more.
Victoria West, South Africa
Endless supply wagons kicked up clouds of dust, enveloping the landscape in a dense haze. The vehicles creaked and groaned as they wound their way along a makeshift road, stretching for dozens of miles.
Bathed in the morning light, blankets tossed over the wagons gleamed with a red hue. Rakes, shovels, and small wooden barrels stood upright, like sentries…
In the distance, people labored to clear obstacles from the road. In this era, South Africa was vast and sparsely populated, with only a few native tribes scattered along hundreds of miles, and road infrastructure was almost nonexistent.
The path they traveled had been carved out by the British in their campaign against the Boer republics, with many sections now in disrepair.
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Infantry could navigate these obstacles, but supply wagons could not. The road had to be cleared first.
The once disposable troops had now transformed into engineers, toiling away with determination. Overseers wielding whips occasionally urged them on, pushing for faster progress.
Viscount Falkner, traveling with the main force, checked his timepiece and asked, “How long until the supply convoy arrives?”
As with most wars, the “Boer Republic Army” was now waiting for their supplies. In deep enemy territory, it was necessary for the main force to lead the way while the supply convoy followed closely behind.
However, the rapid advance of the front lines had caused logistics to lag behind.
The original plan was to transport supplies via the river, but it was now the dry season, and the British had sabotaged the waterways during their retreat, rendering river transport a distant dream.
In this war, time was the greatest enemy. Viscount Falkner’s forces had already reached Worcester, and they were now close to Cape Town, only two days away from laying siege.
The war had reached a point where the British had abandoned their defensive lines along the way, focusing all their efforts on defending Cape Town.
Cape Town was now heavily fortified, with British reinforcements continuously arriving. If the war wasn’t concluded by year’s end, the entire operation would be considered a failure.
This was the power of naval supremacy. John Bull relied on sea transport for supplies, making logistics a non-issue.
Austria, on the other hand, had to rely on wagons and ox carts for transportation, severely limiting the number of troops they could deploy for this siege.
If they couldn’t capitalize on the time gap and end the war before the British main force fully assembled, the roles of attacker and defender would reverse.
“The first batch of supplies will arrive by tomorrow night; the second batch is expected in a week.”
The one who answered was a young officer, around twenty years old. His voice was clear and strong, and combined with his military uniform, he looked especially spirited, as if it was tailor-made for him.
After calculating in his mind, Viscount Falkner ordered, “Urge the logistics department once again. At all costs, get the supplies here as soon as possible.
Command the 2nd Engineer Regiment to clear the riverways along the route. They are authorized to recruit local labor on the spot and must complete the task during this dry season!”
Viscount Falkner was no longer a naive youth. The glory of capturing Cape Town was certainly tempting, but this war was not easy to fight.
If it weren’t for the previous battles that had shattered the British morale, he wouldn’t have launched this winter offensive.
Now, the British were concentrating their forces around Cape Town, amassing a force of over 85,000 troops in this small area of just over a thousand square kilometers.
Most of these troops were white soldiers, as the cannon fodder units had been nearly depleted in earlier battles and hadn’t been replenished.
From this perspective, Governor Delf was competent. Although he lost cities and territories, he preserved the main force.
For Viscount Falkner, this was not good news. The enemy on the other side was a seasoned veteran who refused to engage in a decisive battle.
In war, early victories aren’t the deciding factor; only the final victor matters. To prevent the British from turning the tables, Viscount Falkner was also preparing for the aftermath.
Clearing the riverways was part of these preparations. As long as logistics were secured, even if the British won the Battle of Cape Town, they would only retain control of the Cape of Good Hope.
If they wanted to launch a counteroffensive, they would need to expand the British Army by 2-3 times. Otherwise, their current small army wouldn’t be enough to fill this gap.
“Yes, Commander.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, a young officer stood up, walked several dozen meters away, and picked up the phone to relay the orders.
That’s right, telephones had already made their way into the military. Like in many countries, the most advanced technology was usually first used in the military before being introduced to the public.
Due to the war, telephones were also introduced into the “Boer Republic” army. However, since they were relatively new, they were only used for short-distance communication, while long-distance communication still relied on telegraphs.
Within the command center, telephones had already replaced runners. What once required a messenger to deliver was now communicated directly by phone.
After the “beep beep beep” sound, the logistics department answered, and the young officer quickly conveyed the orders. He then connected to the engineers’ headquarters...
After a brief pause, an army staff officer suggested, “Commander, the battle for Cape Town won’t be easy. To minimize our losses, I recommend gathering as many cannon fodder units as possible.
If our attack is obstructed, we’ll have to use sheer numbers. We can draw from the Russians’ experience when they attacked Constantinople.”
It’s not the best approach, but it’s the most effective. The heavy artillery from the Austrian government was already en route.
In addition to using heavy artillery for the siege, sacrificing lives would be inevitable. Even though they bore the insignia of the “Boer Republic” army, they were essentially Austrian troops.
Sacrificing these units was out of the question, especially since their numbers weren’t sufficient. Even now, they only have around 40,000 soldiers.
Fortunately, the British army wasn’t in much better shape. Although they appeared numerous, their regular troops numbered only 20,000 to 30,000.
The remaining forces were either hastily recruited young men or various colonial troops, with a severe situation of incompetent people in important positions.
The string of defeats they suffered earlier had completely shattered their morale, allowing Austria to gain the upper hand.
Without hesitation, Viscount Falkner issued the order, “Order the Third Division to recruit soldiers. Conscribe all able-bodied men from every tribe within their sight. Those who resist are to be killed on the spot. Also, seize some of their grain to ease our logistical burden as much as possible.”
Ruthlessness is an essential trait for a colonizer. Viscount Falkner didn’t care about the consequences of his orders; all that mattered was winning the war.
...
In Cape Town, panic was spreading. Governor Delf’s repeated speeches to boost morale were ineffective given their recent defeats.
With the “200,000” Boer Republic troops closing in on the city, the residents were understandably terrified. The wealthy had already fled by ship.
Those who couldn’t afford to leave by boat were preparing to escape with their families to the Cape of Good Hope. Although the two places were not far apart, the fall of Cape Town would likely spell doom for the Cape of Good Hope as well.
But putting some distance between themselves and the enemy seemed like the safest option for now. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
The Pringer family was among those fleeing. Too poor to afford a carriage, they had to push a wheelbarrow laden with their belongings.
There were many such families on the road, carrying their meager possessions as they fled Cape Town for the Cape of Good Hope.
“Pringer, you’ve been conscripted! Report to our unit immediately!”
A familiar voice echoed, and Pringer felt as if he had fallen into hell. This was the same voice that had sent his three sons to the battlefield, their fates now unknown.
Pringer hurriedly explained, “Respected Sheriff Amber, I’m already 48 years old, well past the age for military service. I’m not within the scope of conscription.”
With his sons already serving in the army, he couldn’t go himself. Without the pillar of their family, what would happen to his three young grandchildren?
In these times, women earned much less than men, and it was difficult for them to support children on their own.
Sheriff Amber sighed, suppressing a twinge of conscience, and sternly reprimanded, “With 200,000 enemy troops at our gates, Cape Town is in crisis.
To defend Cape Town, the Governor’s Office has just issued a new decree extending the service age to 55.
If you don’t want to serve, you can pay 50 pounds to avoid conscription. If you can’t pay, don’t waste your breath complaining to me.”
This was clearly not an order from Governor Delf. As a shrewd politician, he would never issue such an outrageous order.
In these times, people aged quickly, and the older ones were of little use on the battlefield. The Governor’s conscription orders targeted only able-bodied men aged 18-40, with no interest in the old and weak.
However, the officials below had altered the rules for their own gain. Wealthy individuals could pay to avoid conscription, and someone had to fill the gaps left by them.
Pringer, unable to pay, was thus forced into service. It was simply bad luck; had he fled faster, he might have avoided this fate.
In these chaotic times, if it wasn’t Pringer, it would be some other unfortunate soul filling the ranks. As long as they got the required numbers, it didn’t matter who served.
The “200,000” figure was Governor Delf’s claim. With a population of less than 200,000, it was unclear how the Boer republics could muster such a large army.
Anyway, Governor Delf confidently assured everyone that the enemy had 200,000 troops. Yes, it was the overwhelming numbers of the Boers that had defeated them and this was beyond doubt.
He reported the same figure to the British government, and it was no different in the Cape Colony. If he didn’t want to be the scapegoat for the war’s failure, he had to make this number real.
The British public could tolerate failure, but only if it was against overwhelming odds. Occasional defeats were forgivable when the enemy was clearly stronger.
This was where propaganda came in, and Governor Delf was clearly adept at self-promotion. He had already shifted much of the blame for the war’s failures.
Otherwise, the British government would have replaced him long ago. No one could tolerate a governor who continuously failed, especially one who actively provoked the war.
A middle-aged officer reported, “Governor, the new round of conscription is complete. This time, we’ve conscripted 8,000 men.”
Governor Delf nodded, compassionately saying, “Very good, you’ve done an excellent job. It’s unfortunate that the people of Cape Town have to make such sacrifices for the Empire.”
At this moment, Governor Delf didn’t seem like a cunning politician but rather a compassionate saint.
An official immediately chimed in, “There’s no other way. The enemy is pressing hard, and if Cape Town falls, no one will escape unscathed. By enlisting now, the people are protecting their families from the horrors of war.
Governor, don’t be too sad. The people’s sacrifices are worthwhile, and they will understand your intentions.”
As if possessed by an award-winning actor, Governor Delf shook his head and said, “The public’s opinion of me doesn’t matter. This is all for the Empire.
As long as Cape Town can be saved, even if I were to die right now, I wouldn’t furrow my brow.
I’ve already made up my mind to live or die with Cape Town. Here’s my prepared farewell letter. If I should fall in battle, I ask that you kindly deliver it to my family.”
The scene was quite moving, and everyone was touched. But beneath the surface, everyone understood that if Cape Town fell, Governor Delf, who had initiated this war, would be finished anyway.
Even if he returned to London alive, he wouldn’t avoid facing a military tribunal. He would spend the rest of his life in prison, and his family would never be able to hold their heads high again.
The best option was to die on the battlefield. Then the situation would instantly change. Even if only for the need of political propaganda, the British government would turn him into a “tragic hero.”
Governor Delf understood all of these circumstances clearly. He knew that even if Cape Town were saved, he wouldn’t have a good ending.
To mitigate his responsibilities, he now had to perform this tragic act and mold himself into a “hero.”
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