"Hey, hey, hey, I said, this is unfair. Why did we do such a hard chore? Come and see, my uniform was worn out, and even the Spanish bullets were unable to penetrate. You should suggest that the regiment commander continue to attack and attack the monastery in front of him, where there should be many valuable treasures." The slut-faced fan continued to complain as usual. After capturing the city wall, Silva wanted to rest and drink a little hot water, but was called by his commander and fellow villager, Corporal Penduvas, to build a circular project, which was a very tiring job.

Penduwas turned a deaf ear and continued to carry the bricks and stones to the designated location.

"Yes, Silva, you can talk directly on behalf of us. Because your Marseille song is better than the corporal, maybe the leader of the regiment can make you a sergeant. Haha!" A soldier named Viagra joked.

"Damn it, you all shut up, otherwise I will let you carry artillery to the lieutenant of the artillery." Penduath was a little angry. He knew that these people were jealous, but his Marseille song was indeed terrible. At least it was much worse than the songs coming from the opposite side. "Hey, why are there anyone singing Marseille songs there in the Spanish?"

Penduwas's questions were also the confusion of the Desay leader, who needed someone to explain it to him.

"Sir, this is not surprising. During the Revolutionary era, many Spanish liberals joined the Jacobins, and they resisted the threat of the anti-French alliance and defended the republican system with the French. However, after General Napoleon ascended the throne and became emperor, many people returned home in disappointment and also brought Marseille to Spain. In their opinion, a passionate war song that inspires people to move forward is much better than the beautiful sounds in the Bourbon dynasty in Spain." Captain Delney, acting battalion commander of the first battalion, came over to explain.

This old man of 40, a bald-headed man from the small border town of France and Spain, Barongna. He was a small vendor at that time. He had met many Spanish revolutionaries who voluntarily supported the French Revolution during the Great Revolution. In 1793, Delney was summoned to the French Republic Army. At that time, the commander of his company was the Spanish colonel, Marquis Fernando, who was now responsible for defending the Western Front, and a liberalist from a noble family.

It's really ridiculous. Use the invaders' war songs to boost the morale of the defenders. An hour ago, he used Marseille to save the team on the verge of collapse. Now, what do the Spanish liberal nobles want him to do?

"It's an offensive, Lieutenant Colonel!" Captain Delney continued, "If I guess correctly, in 10 minutes the Spanish frenzy will be swarming, well, like we did at the Battle of Valmí."

In 10 minutes, this was obviously not enough for Lieutenant Kerle's artillery company to restore four artillery pieces. Desai was very clear that thousands of Spaniards rushed over with a rush of overwhelming force. French infantry lacking effective support for artillery was difficult to resist. The lessons learned from the last few failures have fully proved this. Desai knew that his army needed time to consolidate the barricades and repair the artillery, so he had to find someone to talk to the Spaniards first.

"Captain, I need a brave volunteer to talk to Colonel Fernando opposite." Desai stared at the acting battalion commander, thought for a moment, and then pointed at the remains of hundreds of Zaragoza defenders scattered around him, and continued: "It is the glory of Christianity to exchange these poor bodies with our fallen men. Go and tell the commander that the Count Desai will wait for the Marquis of Fernando in the clearings in front of the monastery and invite him to have coffee."

Captain Delney did not refuse the commander's order. He entered the enemy position with a white flag. A few minutes later, the captain brought back the reply that he had given the appointment when he was on the calibration.

On the open space between the circular barrier built by the French and the monastery, there was a strip dining table with two benches. One leg of the table had been broken, and a few bricks replaced it. The ancient siphon coffee pot standing on the dining table was heating the coffee, spilling out a warm vanilla smell. The coffee powder and the coffee pot were brought by the artillery lieutenant, and it was just in handy.

The two commanders of the two hostile sides sat face to face with each other, no one was next to them, but everyone didn't say anything, both eyes seemed to be staring at the boiling black liquid in the glass pot, and no one spoke. Under the windows of the upper floor of the monastery, at least five rifles were pointed at Lieutenant Colonel Desay, and when the latter would not be polite, several French snipers dealt with Colonel Fernando in the same way, and the atmosphere showed a strange peace.

Marquis Fernando is over fifty years old, with white hair and a war trauma on his left forehead. However, he has always raised his back straight, proving that the colonel still maintains a tough military style. His uniform is a little worn, but it is very clean and tidy, but his face is slightly melancholy. In contrast, the Earl of Desay sat too casually, just like attending a salon.

The Marquis Fernando first broke his silence, "I have met your father, seventeen years ago, when he was the youngest and most talented general in the French Revolution."

"Damn it, I have also met your descendants. 200 years later, he is the most shameless betrayer in the entire Spanish kingdom, the murderer!" Desai felt infinitely in his heart.

The Spanish Marquis continued, "You look very similar to him, smart, brave and good at bewitching people's hearts, and you also know how to conspire and trick, and appear in the face of a merciful person." The latter sentence is obviously not a compliment.

"Sorry, I don't understand!" Earl Desay was pretending to be deaf and dumb, busy filtering coffee impurities.

When letting Battalion Commander Delney serve as a lobbyist, Lieutenant Colonel Desay repeatedly emphasized that after letting the captain enter the enemy position, he would first tell the priests present the purpose of exchanging the dead bodies of both sides, and that every Spanish would know. Desay knew in his heart that Colonel Fernando, who had been through the battlefield, must know his true intentions, otherwise he would not be able to command a group of mobs to repel the attacks of the French regular army many times within a day. The armed civilians of Zaragoza were fanatical and desperate, but lacked enough rationality. At the suggestion of the priests, they also hoped to exchange for the bodies of their relatives or comrades and be buried.

Colonel Fernando took the coffee he had made, put the cup in front of him, and said simply thank you, but he had no intention of drinking. He looked straight into the eyes of the French and said seriously: "As the battlefield commander appointed by the parliament, I have the right to reject any proposals from the enemy, but I finally remain silent. Therefore, both sides must add an agreement."

Desai held the coffee cup warmly in his hand, sucking the fragrance deeply and greedily, and smiled faintly, "The gunman on the roof of the monastery is your confidant. If I disagree, does it mean that I can't walk out of here alive?"

Fernando reluctantly smiled, "No, not as serious as expected. You are indeed very smart, and this agreement will not be difficult for you to accept. In the second row of the street on the left side of your vision, the three-story red house, there are a group of wounded and sick people, almost 300, all innocent civilians, who have never participated in the battle, nor have they touched guns, but were unfortunately injured at home or in the rescue of others. If, just if, your army will treat the poor people well after occupying this area. I will leave enough medicine, and a doctor and a few nuns continue to take care of them."

The smile on the corner of the Spanish colonel's mouth inadvertently showed a hint of sadness. As an old soldier who had been fighting on the battlefield for decades, he did not have much hope for the second defense of Zaragoza. In his opinion, the Spanish army's weapons, equipment, daily training and combat experience were far inferior to those of the opponent, and he would never have a head-on confrontation with the French. As for the glory of the Battle of Bailan and the first defense of Zaragoza, it was just the result of the arrogance of the French generals and the loss of vigilance. One, two, and never three.

Building barriers and fighting attrition with the enemy also makes oneself passive, consuming a lot of manpower and material resources, while losing enough mobile combat capabilities. Once surrounded by the French, they lose contact and supplies with the outside world, and over time, after there is no foreign aid, there is too much casualties, and the disease spreads, the guardians will inevitably lack confidence, and even the strongest fortress will inevitably fall.

Colonel Fernando once made suggestions to the city's leadership: Let everyone give up the city, retreat to the countryside or mountains, break it into pieces, and take advantage of the rugged and mountainous geographical advantages of northeastern Spain to carry out small wars (guerrilla warfare), so as to achieve the goal of effectively attacking the invading army. Of course, Fernando also repeatedly emphasized that the frontal battlefield is the key to the final victory. Although the Spanish army cannot win alone, the powerful British allies can take responsibility, especially the witty and brave Arthur Wellesley, the British General (later Duke of Wellington) will soon return to the Iberis Peninsula.

The correct suggestion of the Marquis of Fernando was not supported by Honter (the Spanish local autonomous parliament and the highest authority in the local area). General Parafos, the supreme commander of the city of Zaragoza, also rejected Colonel Fernando's advice, and some even suspected that the liberal aristocrat who had served in the French army was ready to surrender to Napoleon. Fortunately, Honter and General Parafos gave the old soldiers enough trust and appointed him as commanders on the Western Front.

Colonel Fernando lived up to expectations and successfully defended the western city for a month, not giving the French an opportunity. But the price was too high. Including his eldest son and a son-in-law, 16,000 people had been killed in the entire city, and countless injured people were injured. Some people suffering from various war diseases could only survive the enemy's artillery fire.

Desai shook his head, "This is not fair, you understand, Marquis, my soldiers have suffered a lot, there is not enough food and spoils, they will kill everything in front of them. Most of your troops are not regular soldiers, do not have uniform uniforms, and never treat prisoners well. It is difficult for French soldiers to distinguish the difference between innocent citizens and armed soldiers."

What the merchants in the previous life said were facts. Since Napoleon deposed the Spanish royal family and helped his brother Joseph to the Spanish throne, the city of Zaragoza never accepted the living French soldiers. Anyone who became prisoners was brutally killed at the first time. Similarly, the French would also crazily retaliate against the residents of Zaragoza on the battlefield. Therefore, Fernando knew very well that without the protection of Lieutenant Colonel Desay, those civilians would only become victims under the French bayonet.

"The second floor of the monastery in front of you is stored in a lot of ham and some flour. I will ask someone to remove the firewood piled there. As for the so-called spoils you call, Dr. Kava, who cares for the wounded, will tell you in person that it is a wealth of one-third of the 300-year-old family."
Chapter completed!