Remember in one second【】

"The wind is from southeast to east, wind is two knots, breeze!"

"Anchor!"

"Take the cross sails, open the bow sails, and catch the sails!"

"Raise the sail!"

"The Jackdaw is heading west! Cruising!"

At ten o'clock in the morning, the command sounded on Lake Pontchartrain, and the Jackdaw slowly left the shore on the waves, starting a new round of cruise in the direction of the battlefield from a position less than one kilometer from the lake.

On the seventh day of the alert, Lorraine had given up the move of looking for enemy ships aimlessly on the vast lake, instead, like the iron felt camp, cooperated with the actions of the Earl's Guard to conduct a targeted cruise.

Generally speaking, in order to cope with the traffic and bumpy roads, his boat needs to maintain a low speed of 3-5 knots, travel no more than 8 kilometers per hour on average, and travel about two hours to reach the shore of the battlefield lake.

I heard that this is the best solution that takes into account both "demeanor and speed".

Lorraine calculated an account. As the host of a war and the sole commander of nearly 8,000 mercenaries, the earl needs 4 hours to go to and from the battlefield every day, and another 2 hours to and from Kent Manor, plus being in the barracks. Time to deal with official duties...

In fact, this genius general is so busy every day that he will not even spend more than 2 hours on the battlefield.

This time may not be enough for a naval battle of small intensity.

Is the army just so leisurely?

Or did the earl use this method to tell the Baton Rouge regiment that the war is far from over? They still have a lot of time to intercept smuggled arms with confidence?

Sure enough, the political world is too difficult to understand.

Lorraine sat on the bow, lazily cross-legged, looking at the blue sky, white clouds, and the shadow of the blue waves on the lake, and sighed faintly.

"Meow?" White Ear rubbed his thigh comfortably.

Lorraine reached out and brought the little fat cat over and squeezed its swollen belly a few times: "It's so hard to run, and say, how much did you eat today?"

"Boat... Captain." Noah stood timidly behind Lorraine, quibbling for his soul mate, "White ears can't be used to eating fish in the river, and they have reduced the food standard these days. Pierce mashed the fish. , Mixed with milk and small biscuits, it barely eats a little, not much."

"How much is not much?"

"Probably...300 grams."

"Three hundred grams is a big bowl! What kind of cat can eat like it!"

Noya narrowed her mouth and retorted in a low voice, "Other people's cats can't divination... White ears are very hard."

In this world, even Noah would be stunned.

Lorraine looked up to the sky and sighed gloomily, waved his hand, and threw the fat cat back to the doting owner.

Noah was happy now: "Captain, are you upset?"

"Well... the British don't know when they will take the shot. The earl is idle every day. This battle has been fought for nearly two months, and our plan has started for more than ten days... When this continues, when will I get back my capital? ?"

"Earl Galves... isn't he going to end the war? I heard the sailors say that the British have not launched an offensive for a long time, and the mercenaries have been fighting the Indians these days."

"I don't know." Lorraine scratched his hair. "Last interview, the earl clearly said that he was tired of this war. Karen also said that the mercenaries sent to the front lines in the past few days are far greater than the ones that were worn out and withdrawn. He is about to enter the final stage of the surge. But only two hours a day on the front line, can he really be sure of the battle?"

"Analyzing the battle situation is not his job. The staff of the Governor's Mansion is permanently stationed on the battlefield. They are in charge of the ingenuity and specific command. The count only needs to decide the strategy." Catalina stepped up on the deck and threw it away. Come over to a monocular sight glass, "Half of the trip, today is still calm."

"You just want to tell me that today is another day in vain?"

...

Beating the marching drum, Robbie and his comrades walked neatly in the dense woods.

He is a sergeant drummer in the Iron Felt Camp of the 7th Regiment of the Baton Rouge Army's Third Division. He has been assigned to participate in the training for seven days and is already very familiar with the situation of the oak forest at his feet.

Where the ground is flat, it can be faster, and where the branches grow, it needs to be slower.

Fighting marching is the strength of the iron felt camp. Lieutenant Colonel Irvine said the most often, "The speed of the first round of shooting determines the survival rate of the team." The entire iron felt camp regards this as its standard.

They do not seek improvement, never take risks, but they also obey orders most and undertake the most rigorous training.

That's why there will be the iron felt camp that everyone knows.

Their survivability is the strongest in the entire Louisiana Army, and even, perhaps, the strongest in the entire New French Army.

But today, Robbie’s drumbeat is much more chaotic than in the past, and laymen may not be able to hear it, but the comrades who get along with each other every day have already noticed it.

The second lieutenant who served as the standard bearer raised his hand high: "Stop the drum and rest on the spot for five minutes!"

The gunmen in the front row lifted their rifles forward in a neat and uniform motion, leaning on their feet, and then spread out, looking for the dry tree trunks to rest their tired feet.

The second lieutenant frowned and walked to Robbie: "Sergeant Senna, why are you absent-minded today?"

"Sorry sir! Sorry sir!"

"I don't need to apologize. I just want to know what makes my drummer upset."

Robbie's face stiffens, turn

^0^Remember in one second【】

Holding the drumsticks, he faltered: "Second Lieutenant, for seven days, the lieutenant colonel has never executed such a long military order. He said that exhaustion is the enemy of survival, and all tactics must take into account the physical fitness of the soldiers."

"This is just a training exercise. The enemy is imaginary. Perhaps the purpose of the lieutenant colonel is to train our stamina and will."

"The enemy may not be imaginary!" Robbie snapped his drumsticks. "After we were responsible for the fall yesterday, I saw the lieutenant colonel and three majors riding side by side, discussing how to deal with the attack."

"How do you know what they are discussing?"

"Lip talk! Lavna's mother hates me, every time we try to meet with her, we use lip talk across the river. This is the secret of love!"

The second lieutenant looked at his drummer dumbfoundedly, and reached out and patted Robbie on the shoulder: "It's not a proficient lip language that I'm only familiar with [Waiting for me in the woodshed]. Sergeant, clean up your mood, concentrate, you knock on like this, we Of soldiers will trip over tree roots."

Robbie was disappointed. He could see that the ensign didn't trust him at all.

"Yes..." He stood up and saluted helplessly, then turned around, and there was a clear gunshot from the forest, and a warm heat splashed over the back of his neck.

He saw that on the oak tree branches, there were a dozen or so painted Indians with feather crests and oil paintings sticking out of the dense branches and leaves.

He heard that the second lieutenant behind him fell weakly and fell to the ground with a muffled sound.

He felt the confusion and horror of his comrades. He clearly ordered five shots to fire immediately. It was clear that every gun was ready to be fired~lightnovelpub.net~ It was clear that the guns were in their hands, but no one was close by. The nearby target launched a counterattack.

They need clear orders!

Robbie squeezed the drumstick tightly, raised his arm abruptly, and hit it **** the blood-splattered skin, Boom!

"Indians found! Enemy attack! Counter..."

Bang bang bang!

Three gunshots sounded in all directions at the same time. Two lead bullets hit Robbie, one shot past the chest and knocked him flying, the other hit the arm and the drumsticks detached.

He felt severe pain, his strength seemed to be sucked away by something, and he could no longer control his body.

He fell on his back next to the ensign, twitching, staring straight at the golden canopy.

Lavna, your mother... she is right.

goodbye……

Dear, this chapter is over, I wish you a happy reading! ^0^