Geiszler stood in front of the carriage door, his heart filled with anxiety.
The train was like a giant python with a black head, lying quietly on the ground, and at this mont he felt like he wanted to crawl into its belly.
"Is this thing really safe?" He turned back to look at Honorary Representative Sergeant Poppard.
The latter smiled and patted him on the back: "I rember you said you weren’t afraid of Austrian cannons, and now you don’t dare to get on a train?"
"I, of course, I dare!" Geiszler shouted with a flushed face, then tightened the sling of the caplock gun forcefully and jumped onto the train.
The sowhat dim carriage was filled with dozens of rows of wooden benches, with two rows sharing a backrest about a ter high.
Geiszler sat down next to Naselli according to the sequence.
The seats were very cramped, and to increase capacity, each carriage was equipped with 23 rows of half-seats, seating 6 people per row, totaling 141 positions.
But Geiszler and the soldiers seed very happy—the wooden bench was much more comfortable than riding a horse. Riding on a saddle all day would make one’s waist to hips extrely sore. All cavalryn had thick callouses on the inner side of their thighs without exception.
As for the infantry, there’s no need to say more, walking twenty or thirty kiloters a day was no easy task, and now you just had to sit.
Half an hour later, a loud whistle sounded from the front, the carriage trembled violently, and then began to move slowly.
The soldiers on board imdiately issued cries of either excitent or nervousness, and so bowed their heads, praying continuously. The officers of each company struggled to gradually calm everyone down.
Geiszler widened his eyes and watched the trees outside the window continuously recede.
They receded faster and faster, soon becoming blurry horizontal lines.
He felt his heart was about to jump out of his chest, this was too fast! Well, perhaps as Naselli said, it would fly up.
He was relatively better; a few soldiers had already closed their eyes in fear.
In fact, the speed at this ti was only 37 kiloters per hour. But in this era, except for nobles with purebred good horses at ho, no one had experienced such speed—a normal horse, even running for its life, could hardly exceed 30 kiloters per hour.
It wasn’t until noon that Geiszler got used to the speeding sound of "clack clack" and turned his head to ask the honorary representative sitting diagonally behind him, "Sergeant Poppard, who invented this magical vehicle?"
"It’s said to be a gentleman nad Trevisick, but he completed the design under the guidance of His Highness the Crown Prince."
Naselli and several soldiers imdiately exclaid in amazent: "His Highness truly is omnipotent!"
"Great Son of Divine Favor!"
Geiszler, however, rembered the figure who left 50 Leva for his family that year. He was still young at the ti, but later heard from his father that the young man was most likely His Highness the Crown Prince.
That sum of money saved his entire family’s life.
"May Jesus bless His Highness the Crown Prince." He piously drew a cross on his chest.
A shout from the sergeant in the middle of the carriage: "Those who need to pee, hold on tight to the railings, be careful not to fall out!"
Yes, this train had no toilet, so to relieve oneself, one had to go to the connection between the carriages and "scatter" directly to the outside.
Geiszler felt his bladder tightening upon hearing this shout, and was about to raise his hand to relieve himself when he saw the train slowly stop beside a huge wooden "rain shelter."
There was a pile of coal like a small hill on the ground in the middle of the "rain shelter," and next to it was a huge water trough.
Once the train fully stopped, he saw a large wooden sign with a string of words on it. He was trying hard to spell it out when Naselli already read it ahead of him: "Verdon Railway Station. My God, this is Verdon!"
The carriage was suddenly abuzz again.
They had departed at eight in the morning and now, just after one in the afternoon, they had traveled from Paris to Verdon.
It was like a dream!
At the station, dozens of inspectors with iron hamrs clattered around under the train and at its connections, busy for nearly half an hour. After confirming there were no chanical failures, the train prepared to depart again.
Thus, by a little after six in the afternoon, Geiszler’s company had reached a point 60 kiloters east of Nancy by train.
The sergeant loudly ordered the soldiers to prepare to disembark.
This place was only 50 kiloters from their destination, Strasbourg, and in less than two days, they could reach it.
At present, the railway was only built this far. If completed, they could reach the front line that very day.
Over 2,500 soldiers from the 008 train disembarked, while the distant train engine detached from the carriages, struggling to turn around on the triangle track.
Geiszler’s side quickly called out nas before camping on the spot.
anwhile, steam erged from the battlefield dining car.
Sergeant Poppard sat among dozens of soldiers and began his regular nightly "program": "Today, we continue the story of ’The Tsar Paricide.’
"Where did we leave off last ti?"
"Zubov was stopped by Count Bobrinsky!" Naselli, as always, responded fastest.
"Oh, that’s right." Sergeant Poppard nodded, blowing on his cold hands, and continued, "Zubov knelt on the ground, with the sword tip pointed at his nose, scared out of his wits.
"Count Bobrinsky shouted to the assassins around, ’Lay down your weapons, your leader has surrendered!’
"Just as everyone was stunned, Alexander, the Russian Crown Prince, rushed upstairs with dozens of guards.
"’Hand these assassins over to !’ He waved to Count Bobrinsky, ’You courageously stopped a coup.’
"As soon as the count breathed a sigh of relief, Alexander suddenly kicked away his sword, then drew a pistol and pressed it against his chest, ’You are overly ddleso, bastard. My father’s ti is over...’
He was recounting the tale written by Viscount Scheller about the assassination of Paul I, with so of Alexander’s affairs added, serializing for over 40 Chapters. After being modified by Joseph, the plot was tight, filled with suspense, and available in German, Russian, and several other versions.
Since its publication, the book had sold thirty or forty thousand copies across European countries. Although banned by England, Prussia, Austria, and Russia, it continued to circulate wildly in secret among the public.
In France, it was the hot topic of everyone’s discussion and, once adapted into a play, also drew full houses at every performance.
The next day.
Geiszler’s unit unloaded their logistics supplies from the newly arrived freight train F021 and then continued heading towards Strasbourg.
They would cross the middle Rhine River there and station within Baden territory.
Not far ahead, Geiszler saw a dense crowd busily constructing sothing.
So were carrying stones, others dragging tracks, but all the workers were shackled.
Distant overseers shouted in a language he couldn’t understand, occasionally brandishing whips.
Sergeant Poppard pointed over there to explain to everyone: "You see, those are the Russian soldiers General Massena captured. There are tens of thousands of them."
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