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I transmigrated as a french soldier during XVIIIth century

Adam is an ordinary teenager who transmigrates into the body of François Boucher, a French soldier during the Seven Years' War. With no system to guide him and no knowledge of the historical events of this period, he must navigate this new life and struggle to survive.

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Magdeburg

The tension in the air was palpable, and Adam could feel his heart pounding even though René had put away his weapon. But he couldn't afford to stay in this state. This wasn't the time for that.

Ida's mother, trembling, was led inside the small stone house and forced to sit at a simple, time-worn table. Faced with such a disparity in strength, she could only obey and pray that these soldiers, whom she assumed to be deserters from the enemy army, would leave.

Adam slowly stepped forward and began speaking in German, mixing modern German with the various dialects he had encountered in the region.

"Ma'am," he began, "we don't mean you or your daughter any harm. We got lost and want to return to our headquarters in Halberstadt. If you help us, we'll leave immediately."

The woman, who could be described as very beautiful, exuding a mature charm, listened intently to this young man with chestnut hair tinged with red and striking icy blue eyes, but she couldn't help but harbor doubts, which was entirely natural.

The reputation that the French army had built had apparently traveled far and wide, well beyond the front lines. She knew just how brutal and needlessly violent these people could be. What had just happened confirmed to her that the French army was composed of nothing but animals driven by predatory instincts.

She coldly glanced at René, who was sporting a falsely innocent smile, revealing a few crooked, brown, and sometimes broken teeth, before responding to Adam.

"By retracing your steps," she said quietly, "and following the road, you'll reach the village of Gnadau. There's a fork in the road at the exit, where you should take a right. Keep going straight, and you'll arrive in Halberstadt."

"Is it a well-traveled road?" Adam asked after translating the directions to the sergeant.

"Not really. At least not until you reach Gnadau."

Sergeant Dupuy carefully noted the directions on his small map and asked Adam if Gnadau had many inhabitants, as the group couldn't afford to antagonize a large population.

"No, it's very small. Everyone there knows each other. Please, don't harm them!"

Adam partially translated the farmer's response.

"And where are we right now? Are we far from Gnadau?"

"South of Magdeburg," the woman replied, "near the Elbe. Gnadau is about half an hour from my farm."

At the mention of Magdeburg, everyone tensed. That was the enemy's headquarters.

We're near Magdeburg?! This is dangerous! We can't stay here too long, or we'll be in big trouble!

Sergeant Dupuy, though tense, was very relieved to have a direction. He asked Adam to thank the woman on his behalf. She turned her gaze to a small square window.

René's grating voice then broke the silence in the small room, faintly lit by a timid ray of sunlight that had managed to break through the thick clouds.

"And what about food? There must be something here, right?"

Everyone looked at the bony-faced soldier, uncertain of how to respond. Because the sergeant nodded, Adam translated.

The woman stiffened in her wooden chair. Adam knew they needed provisions, but he felt that pushing this woman further might have disastrous consequences. He took a deep breath and asked the question to the woman, who was nervously playing with her work-worn hands.

"We also need food. Do you have anything you can give us?"

The farmer weakly nodded, resigned, and pointed to a building separate from the house, visible through the small window.

"There's some grain, a few fruits, and a few vegetables in the barn. You can take some, but please not all of it. I also need it to feed myself and my daughter."

Adam felt shame and guilt wash over him, growing into a heavy, oppressive knot in his stomach and throat. With a sad look, he faithfully translated her response, adding a few details to ensure his comrades wouldn't be too greedy when loading their cart.

Immediately, part of the squad left the house to head toward the barn, leaving Adam, the sergeant, Louis, and Charles behind. Time seemed to slow down suddenly. The silence was oppressive. The only sound was the hail that had begun falling again on the area.

I feel so bad… I've done this several times, but this time…

He put himself in the shoes of this woman and her daughter, who might not have enough to eat this winter and could, perhaps, starve because of them.

Adam suddenly remembered something little Ida had said before her mother's intervention.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but where is your husband currently?"

"My husband? He… he's on a business trip. He's a merchant. He shouldn't be much longer."

She's lying. It's obvious. And the little girl said he was a soldier and left without saying goodbye.

"Isn't your husband a soldier? He must serve the Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg, am I wrong?"

The woman trembled and avoided Adam's gaze.

"I-I… No, you're wrong!"

She really doesn't know how to lie, Adam concluded as he watched her lose her composure and panic.

"Your husband went on a mission, didn't he? With all his comrades?" he added, carefully staying vague, relying solely on the little the girl had revealed to him earlier.

"Ah…"

It was almost a moan of pain that crawled out of her mouth. Losing control of her emotions, she didn't even realize that she was revealing all her thoughts to her interlocutor.

"There's no problem. Everything's fine," Adam reassured, moving closer to the farmer, who was watched with curiosity by the sergeant, unable to understand a word of what was being said in front of him. "Just tell me where they went."

"I don't know…" she finally admitted. "He didn't tell me anything. He just went to Magdeburg and left with the Duke's army. That's all I know, I swear!"

She's telling the truth this time. Wait, what?!

"The Duke's army left? His entire army?"

"I… I don't know! He must have left a small part of his army to protect the city, but that's all! Please, leave me alone! I really don't know any more!"

Adam took two steps back, allowing the farmer to breathe a little easier. He then turned to his sergeant and explained the situation.

"This… This is very important! We need to return to the camp immediately. Soldier Charles, go and tell the others to stop everything! We're leaving!"

"Understood!"

René wasn't pleased with this decision, but he had no choice but to comply with his superior's order. Before leaving, he cast one last look at the farmer, who was watching them from her doorway. His gaze betrayed his frustration, regret, and malice. Surely, he would have liked to steal something more valuable than food from her!

Adam, on the other hand, bowed to the woman and offered his sincerest apologies before leaving as well.

I'm so ashamed of myself, I feel like throwing up.

Despite the sergeant's encouraging words, Adam didn't feel any better. He knew that nothing could excuse what they had just done. More than ever, he realized that this war was changing him, distorting the once-clear line between right and wrong.

I really need to go home… before it's too late!

***

On this 30th of October, the Duke of Richelieu's imposing army was deploying around Magdeburg, a large and well-fortified city. It occupied the west bank of the Elbe and had a star-shaped citadel on an island in the middle of the powerful river. The two were connected by a stone bridge, with another bridge leading to the opposite bank, where another fort had been built.

Most of his army was positioned to the west, on the city's side, but he had sent a small group with artillery—of which he had a considerable amount—to the other side of the river to threaten the city from its more vulnerable side.

He had made this decision quite quickly a few days earlier when he learned that one of his supply teams had inadvertently approached the fortified place and discovered that the Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg had left, presumably to support King Frederick II of Prussia in Leipzig.

As he rode at the head of his army—nearly thirty thousand men, since he had to leave a force in the region to chase away the enemies of the King of France fighting on behalf of Hanover, Brunswick, Hesse-Cassel, and all the regions occupied by France—it had taken them two days to reach this point, but they had taken their time. Despite this, the enemy was caught off guard. The enemy commander, none other than the Duke's nephew, hadn't expected the Duke of Richelieu, who had been so calm and immobile since his arrival in Halberstadt, to decide to attack. He and his uncle had no doubt that Richelieu was waiting for winter to pass.

They had made a mistake.

Around 11 a.m., the artillery was positioned, perched on high artificial mounds to give the attackers a terrain advantage. Richelieu decided to advance with two officers under the protection of a white flag. He stopped in the middle of the road leading to the city, facing the Minen Bastion and the Ulrich Gate.

His polished armor gleamed as if made of gold, making him visible from a great distance. He rode a magnificent white horse, slightly nervous judging by its movements.

The horse had every reason to be, as at this distance, a cannonball could easily take off its rider's head.

"Frenchman," came a deep and powerful voice from the bastion, amplified by a metal loudspeaker, "you are not welcome here! Leave immediately, or you will regret it!"

The Duke gave a slight smile but did not immediately respond.

The Prussian officer felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. His garrison was significantly smaller in number than this army. He was also well aware of the reputation of this man, whose identity he could easily guess. Around Charles-William-Ferdinand of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, the soldiers appeared as nervous as he was. They all knew what these monsters were capable of. Some had even seen them in action. These soldiers were bloodthirsty brutes, so how cruel must their general be?

A voice then resonated from the ground, naturally carrying up to them:

"I am General du Plessis de Richelieu, commander of this army in the name of Louis the Fifteenth, King of France and Navarre! I fully intend to take this city. Any resistance is futile. Open the gates, and I swear no harm will come to you! If you choose to resist, may God have mercy on you, for with each day of resistance, I will allow my army to pillage your city for an additional day! You have one hour to decide!"

The entrenched soldiers trembled. They had heard and understood everything, for this man had spoken in German.

Despite all the efforts of the fortress commander, the news spread rapidly within the city. It moved faster than a disease or a fire. The population began to stir even before the bombardment started.

The psychological attack was far more effective than the Marshal Duke could have expected, as the people of this city had been traumatized by a tragic event that had occurred more than a century earlier.

During the Thirty Years' War, a horrific war that had ravaged the region, the city of Magdeburg had been besieged by an imperial army and the Catholic League. The siege had been long, but what was most remembered was its end and the horrors that followed. The besieging army had finally managed to enter the city and began massacring the population. At the time, the population numbered thirty thousand, which was very respectable for that era and region. After three days of massacres, only five thousand inhabitants remained, those who had been fortunate enough to take refuge in the cathedral.

Despite the years, the painful memory of that terrible time remained intact. The name of the city alone was enough to evoke the horrors of war. It even gave rise to a verb that could be translated as "to Magdeburgize."

At noon, all around the city, the sound of cannon fire echoed, as the city gates remained closed. Most of the projectiles struck the solid walls of Magdeburg, but some, fired by mortars, passed over them and fell on the houses, spreading death and destruction.

The inhabitants and soldiers immediately organized human chains to bring buckets of water from the river to extinguish the fires. But throughout the city, people protested and demanded that the gates be opened, hoping for decent treatment.

The crown prince of the House of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, of course, could not allow this. His uncle had entrusted him with the city to hold it until his return, and his other uncle, the King of Prussia, needed to keep this enemy tied up in the north.

So, he sent soldiers into the city to suppress these intolerable movements. This was misinterpreted. Gradually, they were overwhelmed, as they had to keep men on the ramparts to man the cannons, and Magdeburg spiraled out of control.

At four in the afternoon, the gates opened, and the French forces entered the city.

Unfortunately for the inhabitants, the Duke considered this day a day of resistance since they had not agreed to open the gates when he had requested earlier that day. The soldiers thus began to plunder Magdeburg.

While his soldiers behaved like the worst scoundrels in the world, Marshal Richelieu visited the warehouses filled with food and supplies, ignoring the cries and pleas for help.

So much gunpowder, tents, and cannonballs! the Duke exclaimed inwardly with relief. I can spend the winter in peace now!

He had captured the city so easily that he was surprised himself. He assumed, upon hearing the reports, that his reputation had greatly contributed to this stunning victory. In addition to the city's cannons, they had taken many prisoners.

It wasn't difficult to learn more about the movements of the Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg. On October 24, he had quietly left for Möcken, a village twenty kilometers to the east. Then, he had gone south to Halle. Strangely, he hadn't stayed there to face Lieutenant General de Broglie but had moved east to join Frederick II in Leipzig.

"If their forces are combined, as they surely must be by now, they pose a serious threat. According to Prince de Soubise, their army is very divided. Facing a united enemy, even with a clear numerical advantage, they could lose or allow the king to escape…"

The Duke looked up at the sky. The sun was very low, tinting the buildings and river with a soft orange light. A few stars were already visible.

"Gentlemen Bréhant, Châtelet, Saint-Pern, Chevreuse, and Contades, we will leave for Leipzig in two days. Monsieur Randan will hold this city in our absence. Let our men enjoy themselves as they please tonight until the same time tomorrow. Then, let them rest. We will most certainly have to fight well-trained regiments."

"At your orders!"

And if I can steal their victory, it will be perfect!

The Thirty Years' War (1618-1648) began with a simple revolt in Bohemia, where Protestant nobles rose up against the Catholicism imposed by the emperor. Many European powers, both large and small, were forced to take sides. Magdeburg, a Protestant city, was besieged from November 1630 to May 1631. The city was set on fire, its inhabitants massacred, with only a few thousand survivors, and it lost all its influence. By the end of the war, the city had only a few hundred inhabitants left. This massacre, the largest during the conflict, was used as justification for other atrocities, this time against Catholics. Magdeburg was never besieged during the Seven Years' War, but it surrendered to the French forces of Napoleon I in 1806 during the War of the Fourth Coalition, then to the Prussians during the War of the Fifth Coalition in 1809, and once again in 1813-1814.

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