Chapter 707: Strategic Grand Maneuver
Yegor, pale and trembling, asked, "Why are the Poles here?"
"I… I don't know," Jakov muttered, equally shaken.
"Didn't you say the Tsar's army crushed them?"
Jakov stammered, "That's what Lord Gumilov said…"
"But those Poles look terrifying!"
Inside Bryansk
An officer saluted Kościuszko and reported:
"General, the city's food supplies are critically low."
Kościuszko nodded, then turned to Dąbrowski.
"It's clear the Russians were prepared."
"We still have enough grain from Trubchevsk to last half a month," Dąbrowski, commander of the cavalry regiment, responded confidently.
"That's plenty to get us to Moscow's gates."
Kościuszko frowned, gazing eastward.
"You must have noticed, though—the Russians are surrounding us with increasing numbers."
"They are," Dąbrowski admitted.
"But they're keeping their distance. Aside from occasional skirmishes, they haven't mounted a full-scale attack."
Kościuszko sighed.
"Still, they're slowing us down. The further east we go, the more frequent these disruptions will become. We won't reach Moscow within half a month."
In marching formation, armies stretch into long, vulnerable columns. Every time the Russians attacked, the Poles had to stop and reform into battle lines, wasting time.
Dąbrowski did some mental calculations and grew grim.
"At best, we'll reach Kaluga. It seems we'll have to find the main Russian forces and force a decisive battle."
"No," Kościuszko countered.
"That will only bog us down further."
"Then what? Are we just going to sit back and let the plan fail? Moscow is the goal!"
"Moscow was never the true goal."
Dąbrowski froze in surprise.
"What did you say?"
Kościuszko explained, "It was decided during the military council in Paris. The Prince foresaw this exact situation."
A middle-ranking infantry officer approached, saluted, and reported:
"General, we've cleared out all remaining Russian forces in the city. What are your orders now?"
"Gather all the food and ammunition you can find," Kościuszko ordered, his gaze fixed on the distant city hall.
"Burn every government building, bank, warehouse, and factory."
War is destruction, and mercy has no place in it. The more damage they inflicted on their enemies, the better they could protect themselves.
Given the devastation Russia had inflicted on Poland, Kościuszko had no intention of showing restraint. If his troops could stay longer, he would have burned the shops and mansions as well. But in the absence of careful preparation, targeting the essentials had to suffice.
"Yes, General!"
After the officer departed, Dąbrowski asked eagerly, "So, what is our real objective?"
The specifics of the deep incursion into Russia were a closely guarded secret, known only to Kościuszko and a few advisors.
Kościuszko raised his hand and pointed southward.
"Crimea."
The True Goal
From the beginning, Prince Józef had recognized that sending fewer than 20,000 Polish troops to threaten Moscow was an impossibility. Even Napoleon, at the height of his power, had required hundreds of thousands of soldiers to attempt such a feat.
The true target was always Russia's "southern gateway" — Crimea.
If Russia lost Crimea, it would lose control of the Black Sea and access to Mediterranean trade. This would cripple its economy.
For centuries, the Tsars had relentlessly fought to secure Crimea. Catherine the Great had spent vast sums of money and tens of thousands of lives to wrest it from the Ottomans.
Crimea was as vital to Russia as Moscow itself. Its loss would be catastrophic, as history would later prove during the Crimean War, when defeat at the hands of the British, French, and Ottomans plunged Russia into decades of decline.
Dąbrowski's Objection
Dąbrowski frowned deeply.
"Crimea is 500 miles away. We don't have enough food for such a long march.
"And there's Kursk Fortress in our way. Your plan is impossible!"
"If even you think it's impossible, then the enemy will never expect it," Kościuszko replied calmly.
"The Prince assured me he would handle our logistics.
"As for Kursk Fortress, the Russians won't anticipate us suddenly heading south, so its defenses will be lax.
"We can and must take it!"
Dąbrowski took a deep breath, then chuckled.
"Alright, if you're going to be crazy, I'll be crazy with you. For Poland!"
"For Poland!"
A Path Lit by Flames
By dusk, the burning city of Bryansk was a blazing beacon, lighting the Polish army's route southward.
Kościuszko glanced back eastward, regret etched on his face.
"The Russians reacted too quickly. If they hadn't, we could have destroyed Kaluga as planned."
"Bryansk alone has dealt them heavy losses," Dąbrowski reassured him. Then, as if recalling something, he asked:
"Why didn't we march south from Mozyr to begin with? Why did we circle north of the Oka River first?"
Kościuszko smiled.
"That's the brilliance of this plan.
"I'd wager that right now, the entire Russian army is concentrating on defending Moscow.
"If we're lucky, even Kursk's garrison has been significantly weakened.
"Had we gone south directly, we'd be facing layer upon layer of Russian forces, just as we are now. And then what? Retreat north to Moscow?"
The two men laughed together. It felt less like a death march and more like an invitation to a grand banquet.
Confusion in the Russian Ranks
The next day, General Korennikov, tasked with containing Kościuszko's forces, suddenly lost track of the Polish army.
In the Russian command post, Korennikov stared at his map, frowning deeply.
Slamming his hand on Moscow's location, he declared:
"No matter what tricks they use, their ultimate goal is Moscow."
He issued orders to his staff:
"Have Vasnetsov send three regiments to reinforce Moscow. Concentrate the remaining troops at Kaluga to intercept the Poles.
"And send word to Saratov's troops—accelerate their march!"
"Yes, General!"
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