Chapter 13: Pearson's Emotion

The imminent battle in Turin had captured the attention of the entire world, marking a pivotal moment that would determine the fate of Europe and beyond. This conflict held the power to decide whether the nascent revolutionary regime in France could endure.

Spanning seven nations, the impact of this war reached across nearly half of Europe, with France bearing a particularly heavy burden, evident in the recent surge in prices. Under immense military pressure, French authorities urgently called for reinforcements to be dispatched to Turin.

In this context, the Brienne Military Academy, as a renowned institution in France, had a clear duty to fulfill. Within a mere two weeks of the mobilization order, the academy organized a 600-strong student army, poised to engage in battle along the southern border of France. And naturally, due to his extensive combat experience, Instructor Pearson was chosen as the commander of this student army.

...

March 15, 1796, marked the departure day for the student army. Almost all the instructors and students of the academy gathered to bid farewell to this military contingent.

"Hey! Who would have thought we'd see a day like this?" Jobs exclaimed joyfully, watching the crowd cheering in the distance.

"Well, do you think after this battle, we'll just be drafted into the army?" John asked curiously.

"I don't know, but I can't wait to head to the battlefield," Jobs replied. At that moment, he was filled with eagerness for war. Those who hadn't experienced it often longed for it, ignorant of its cruelty.

"You? Don't even think about it. Someone like you would just end up as cannon fodder," John interjected, pouring cold water on Jobs' enthusiasm.

"Shut up, you heartless jerk. I was just indulging in some nice thoughts, and you brought me back to harsh reality," complained Jobs, doused with cold water, to John.

"I'm just stating the facts, okay?" John shrugged.

"John, stop teasing him. His will to be a soldier was never firm to begin with. If you scare him now, he might just become a deserter," Roland chimed in, adding insult to injury.

"You guys...you're too much," seeing John and Roland mocking him, Jobs felt infuriated but helpless at the same time. It was truly exasperating!

"Shh! Let's not talk anymore. Instructor Pearson is here," Marin reminded them.

As Marin spoke, Pearson slowly approached the student army. Clad in military attire, he exuded a commanding presence, with a military bearing emanating from him. There was a resolute expression on Pearson's face, as if at this moment, the hero of the British wars had returned. Pearson scanned the crowd with his gaze, recognizing many familiar faces among the student army, including many students he knew well.

Following this, Pearson began speaking, "I'm glad to see all of you here. Surely you understand the significance of our gathering here, yet you've chosen to be here nonetheless. It shows that each of you is a courageous man, ready to sacrifice for our country. Our homeland is facing dangers from all corners of Europe. Today, you are students, but tomorrow, you will be soldiers of the nation, and a soldier's ultimate destiny is the battlefield.

"The battlefield is harsh. You will need to face the enemy with your own flesh and blood. Swords, cannons... It's possible that someone speaking with you today might be blown to pieces by a shell tomorrow. But it's not too late now. If any of you regret being here, leaving is the best option. Rest assured, no one will ridicule you for leaving, as war is not something you should be involved in."

With that, Pearson paused, no longer speaking. He stared firmly at the students before him, his gaze filled with complex emotions.

"Now, does anyone wish to leave?" After a while, Pearson uttered these words.

However, there was no response from the crowd, and no one left. Everyone simply stared directly at Pearson.

"Instructor Pearson! We want to go with you. To Turin, to fight the enemy!" After a while, someone suddenly shouted from the crowd.

"Yes, we want to go with you."

"Instructor, we will follow you for sure." With the first person's shout, the entire student army seemed ignited, shouting one after another.

"Good, good! Each and every one of you is excellent." Seeing the students' excitement, Pearson was deeply satisfied. No one noticed the tear silently sliding down from the corner of his eye. These were his beloved students.

He genuinely liked these children, so often he had to pretend to be strict. He knew many students referred to him as the devil instructor behind his back, but none of that mattered. He was willing to do anything to give these children a better chance of survival in the future.

"What am I doing? This is not the time to be sentimental." Pearson snapped out of it, then he reached up to adjust his military cap, wiping away the tear from the corner of his eye. He was the commander of this army now, every word and action scrutinized. If anyone saw him shed a tear, it wouldn't be good.

"Alright. Let's go. Destination: Marly. Everyone, on your feet, double-time march forward." Finally, Pearson straightened his chest, exerting his voice with strength.

"Yes, sir!" As Pearson gave the command, the student army immediately responded, then they formed into two columns as usual training and began double-time marching towards the southern border of France.