Chapter 43: The Battle of Alexandria

"Of course, this is a command passed down by Napoleon himself. If I were to disregard it, I might very well find myself in trouble again. Let it be, then. Issue the orders; let our soldiers be less complacent and more vigilant. After all, we are not in France, but in Egypt."

Brueys gestured dismissively to his aide-de-camp.

"Yes, I'll prepare immediately," the aide-de-camp nodded and promptly departed to make the arrangements. Unbeknownst to him, it was already too late.

As the sun was yet to set, fourteen British warships under Admiral Nelson's command suddenly entered the Bay of Aboukir at Alexandria. The two fleets unexpectedly encountered each other.

"Look, Admiral, the French fleet is indeed here," exclaimed Sidney, the vice-commander of the Mediterranean fleet on one of the British warships, delightfully surprised. They had been sent to annihilate the French fleet and had finally caught them after nearly a month of searching.

"The French are truly amateurs at sea; look how they're lined up in a single row. If we flank them from both sides now, we can catch them in a pincer movement."

Aboard the flagship "Victory," Fleet Commander Nelson, holding a telescope, keenly observed the French formation. With his extensive naval warfare experience, he immediately spotted the weaknesses in the French fleet's alignment.

"Of course, no other nation can compare with us in naval capabilities," Sidney proudly responded upon hearing Nelson's remarks. During the age of sail, the British Navy dominated the seas, unmatched by any foe, whereas the French Navy, though strong, was no match for Britain.

"Good, Sidney, confidence is good, but never be arrogant. Remember, arrogance is the root of defeat," Nelson cautioned.

"Yes, General, I understand. Shall we commence the attack now?" Sidney inquired.

"Attack! Let's finish the battle before the sun sets. Otherwise, it will be difficult for our gunners to operate after dark," Nelson nodded, issuing the command to attack.

"Attack! Sink the French fleet." With Nelson's order, the fourteen British warships raised their sails to speed up, while the cannons on both sides of the ships were slowly uncovered.

Simultaneously, the French fleet in the Bay of Aboukir noticed the approaching British warships.

"This is bad, an enemy!"

"There are warships on the sea."

The sudden appearance of the warships caused panic among the French sailors. Facing the unexpected arrival of the enemy ships, they were all flustered, unsure of what to do.

"This is bad, they are British warships."

As the warships slowly drew closer, the British flag hanging at the fore slowly came into view of the French Navy.

"Report to General Brueys, warships have appeared on the sea, and they are now less than fifteen miles from us."

Aboard the "Orient," the aide-de-camp rushed to Brueys, reporting anxiously, "What? The British have appeared. Order all ships to engage!"

Hearing of the British warships' appearance, Brueys's face was filled with panic. He was well aware of the strength of the British navy and felt deeply uncertain about engaging with the British fleet.

As the French fleet scrambled into action, a fierce naval battle ensued.

"Order all ships, prepare for battle!" Rear Admiral Brueys issued the command. Despite knowing that his six warships were at a disadvantage against the British navy's fourteen, he believed in the adage: 'Fortune favors the brave.' Encountering the British Mediterranean fleet meant there was no retreating without a fight.

"Oh? The French are reacting so slowly. We're this close, and only now do they notice us. Well, this suits me fine; it'll let me win this battle cleanly," Nelson observed through his telescope, noting the sluggish response of the French that day—a fortunate turn for him.

"Order the 'Culloden' and 'Coventry' to attack from the left! Open fire on the French ships. Let's send them all to the bottom of the sea," Nelson first issued the command.

"Yes, Your Excellency." Upon hearing this, the British signalman immediately climbed to the highest part of the ship and started signaling with flags. Nelson ordered eight warships to form a line of battle, with six others providing supporting firepower, ready to engage the French at any moment.

"When in range, order the 'Coventry' to fire," Nelson commanded.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

Following Nelson's orders, the gunners on the 'Coventry' immediately fired, sending a barrage of cannonballs flying towards the French ships.

"Splash! Splash!"

At this distance, only a few of the British cannonballs hit the French ships, with the majority missing and creating columns of water as they splashed into the sea.

"Return fire, return fire!" Brueys also urgently shouted from the flagship "Orient."