Chapter 1: "The Second Partition"
Chapter 1: "The Second Partition"
February 1795, Racibórz - KRAKÓW, POLAND; Polish/Prussian border
Miłosz Jolowna sighed heavily as he was informed. Governer Łalowski had just sent messangers about the province, stating that King Poniatowski had issued a call-to-arms. All of Poland was being summoned to help resist the surge of usurpers. But alas, much of Poland had already given up hope of resistance. Word had spread that in Volyn, nary larger a group than five thousand men had answered the call and reported to Brest-Litovsk. On the other hand, in Podlasia, more men than guns appeared in Lublin. Miłosz's good friend Jan simply shook his head and laughed grimly.
"Will you go, Miłosz? All the way to Kraków, only to be sent back here to your death?"
"Do you expect any less of me, Jan? When I die, I shall take a thousand Prussians with me to my grave." To that, Jan laughed. "If I were you, Jan, I would...-"
He was cut off by the sound of hooves colliding with the earth, much in the same arrogant manner as "Prussian Cavalry! Holy God, they have arrived already," cried Jan.
"Then let us make them regret stopping in Racibórz!!" growled Miłosz, who already carried a pitchfork in his hands.
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March 1795, Vilnius - LITHUANIA, POLAND
"RIDE! Sons of Russia, RIDE! For the glory of the motherland, let us destroy all resistance!" shouted General Vladislav Suvorov.
And so they did. Almost twenty-thousand horsemen plodded acrost the Polish landscape, the sun rising behind them, illuminating the scene of terrified peasants. In the distant north, war horns of Lithuania were being sounded. By the time the Knights of Białystok arrived, however, Vilnius lie in ruin and flame, scorched by the terrifying army of Suvorov, which rode on towards Brest-Litovsk.
¤ ¤ ¤
June 1795, WARSZAWA - MAZUR (Masovia), POLAND
The night lit up with fire, as rooftops burned under the hail of Prussian artillery batteries. The city of Warsaw was decimated before it was awoken, and by the time the Polska Armia even set foot into the majestic city, all that was left of the western half was a sickening mix of rubble and bone and blood. The east remained largely untouched. Looming in the distance was General Blücher's prize: the Palace of King Stanislas II Poniatowski. Capturing the Palace would ensure Prussian victory. "Let not Warsaw fall to Russian troops!" The prestigious general had shouted before the expedition set off. "The fall of Poland shall be credited to GERMANS!"
Prince Joszef Poniatowski, Stanislas' son, surveyed his crushed city, as he marched his men calmly to face those of General Blücher. "You shall pay dearly for what you have done today, Friedrich."
Blücher snorted, and snarled in response: "You'll be crushed. Perhaps you have superior numbers, but you have inferior weapons, inferior armour..." he smirked. "And an inferior lineage."
If the words stung Poniatowski, he did not show it. In fact, he smiled coldly into the azure eyes of his opponent. "Of all people, a German should know not to tempt fate with Slavs. Today, if every last one of the men behind me must die for it, I shall see your blood stain the streets of Warsaw!" With that, his men unleashed a furious battle cry. He stepped calmly behind his riflemen, and smiled as they opened fire on the already blasting Prussian front line.
"If the man in front of you is not Polish, let him die!" he shouted, and his troops gave a great yell in affirmation. He then turned to his second in command, General Kosciuszko. "Antanas." he muttered. "Draw your men south, to the borders of Podlasia. As soon as you have reached the border, turn back, and head north-northwest. Attack the Prussians from their lower flank. We shall hold them here."
Kosciuszko nodded in understanding, and immediately he ordered his troops to march southward.
* * *
"There is movement in their lines!" shouted Blücher to his men, firing shots of his pistol between words. "They are beginning their retreat. Press the attack!" He cried, and his men began to close in on the steadily decreasing Polish force.
* * *
But the Polish front held, though they suffered innumerable casualties. Kosciuszko's men seemed to appear from nowhere, and lay into the Prussians heavily. It took a full five months, but by November, the German regiments had been reduced to nothing.
Prince Poniatowski smiled as his foot pressed down upon the German general's neck. "You see, Friedrich? You have crossed the wrong people. When you burn in Hell, I hope that Satan gives you a good view of Berlin. I will personally be there when the Polish flag rises above it."
With that, he lifted his foot briefly, before slamming it down into his enemy's throat, snapping the vertebrae cleanly, and allowing his blood to flow upon the streets.
Warsaw remained under control of Poland.
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For curious folks:
-=
OLAND:=-
MASOVIA: Poland
Podlasia: Poland
Volyn: Poland
Krakow: Prussia
Lithuania: Russia