More than the food itself, what really made the soldiers of the Champagne Corps envious was that the officers of the Guard Corps actually ate with the soldiers!
Even the food in their bowls was exactly the sa as what the soldiers were eating.
In their hearts, they couldn't help but think:
"These are the kind of officers worth serving and respecting. Compared to them, the officers in the Champagne Corps treat us like nothing more than animals who can shoot."
Then, to their shock, they saw His Royal Highness the Prince sitting down with a group of Guard Corps soldiers, eating from the sa pot!
"Hm, this soup tastes pretty good," Joseph said as he dipped so bread into the red soup before putting it into his mouth. The slightly spicy tomato soup tasted very similar to borscht.
Lefebvre nodded and replied, "Yes, Your Highness, aside from at, this is the soldiers' favorite food."
A nearby staff officer chid in, "It's all thanks to tomato paste. Good heavens, who was the genius who invented this? The taste of fresh tomatoes is truly wonderful."
Joseph, the "genius inventor" of tomato paste, didn't respond to that comnt. Instead, he turned to look at Napoleon, who was quietly eating his al.
"Captain Buonaparte, how are you adjusting to life in the Guard Corps?"
Napoleon was startled and quickly put down his food, standing at attention with a crisp salute. "I've adjusted well, Your Highness. Everything is going great!"
"Uh, no need to be so tense," Joseph thought to himself. We're going to be working together in the future, so you can't keep being this uptight.
He suddenly noticed Napoleon's bloodshot eyes and asked with concern, "Why are your eyes so bloodshot? Haven't you been getting enough rest?"
Napoleon hadn't been resting well. Ever since he joined the Guard Corps, he'd been working tirelessly to catch up, and his competitive nature ant he was only sleeping five or six hours a night.
"No, it's nothing, Your Highness. Thank you for your concern."
The staff officer leaned over to Joseph and added, "Your Highness, Captain Buonaparte has been working very hard. Since joining the corps, he has already completed several basic assessnts."
Joseph nodded approvingly at Napoleon and then switched to a more casual tone:
"By the way, after you leave Troyes, you'll be heading to Verdun."
The staff officer looked surprised. "Your Highness, I wasn't aware of any units there that need assessnt."
"It's not for an assessnt," Joseph explained, "There's going to be a battle. Against a truly formidable enemy."
The eyes of the officers and soldiers around him imdiately lit up with excitent—according to the Guard Corps' rules, going to battle ant earning military honors, which in turn ant promotions.
And with promotions ca the admiration and respect of their families and neighbors.
This was thanks to the effective work of the Ministry of Military Affairs.
Soldiers who distinguished themselves in battle would be celebrated with military bands, banners, flowers, and bonuses. Their achievents would be widely publicized for three consecutive days in their neighborhoods, making them local heroes.
When they returned ho, the pride and glory they felt would be even better than the promotion itself.
"Your Highness, who are we going to fight?" a company commander imdiately asked.
"I can't say for sure yet, but there will likely be Prussians involved."
When they heard they might face a real European army, the soldiers began to prepare eagerly. They had previously defeated the armies of Algiers and Albania, and they had defeated the Montcalm Corps, but those victories weren't enough to prove their true strength.
If they could defeat the Prussians on the battlefield, no one could question the Guard Corps' achievents.
Speaking of battles, Joseph suddenly rembered sothing and turned to Lefebvre:
"Major, has the new 'compact mobile artillery' arrived yet?"
Lefebvre shook his head, "It hadn't arrived when we left Paris, Your Highness. But the armory had already sent the training manuals, and they said it would be delivered within a week."
Joseph sighed, still a little late. He instructed:
"Then have the artillery sent directly to Verdun. You'll need to start practicing with it as soon as possible; there may not be much ti before the battle begins."
When Napoleon heard the term "mobile artillery," he was imdiately intrigued and asked the staff officer next to him:
"Sir, what kind of new equipnt did His Highness just ntion?"
"Oh, it's a type of fast-moving artillery. You'll see it when you get to Versailles." The staff officer, who looked down on the Corsican, replied sowhat dismissively. Discrimination against outsiders was common in this era, and especially against soone from a remote island like Corsica.
Napoleon wanted to ask more, but the staff officer had already turned to discuss training matters with the Prince, leaving Napoleon with no opportunity to join the conversation. His mind raced, torn between his desire to see this new artillery and the fact that doing so might an missing the next eting of the Corsican independence organization. Perhaps President Paoli would have new instructions…
But the allure of the new artillery, especially since it was related to his beloved field of cannons, was too strong…
While Napoleon was caught in this dilemma, the next morning, the mail arrived at the camp in Troyes.
This was the mont that excited all the soldiers the most, as the wooden boxes the postman carried contained letters from their families, loved ones, or friends—their only connection to the world outside the military camp.
After the crowd collecting their letters had dispersed, Napoleon approached the two postn and gave his na:
"Napoleon Buonaparte. Is there any mail for ?"
One of the tall postn looked up Napoleon's na in the record book and then pulled a letter from the second wooden box, handing it to him:
"Yes, you have a letter. It's from a Joseph Buonaparte. Oh, that's an unusual surna. Is he your father or brother?"
"He's my elder brother."
Napoleon replied absentmindedly, taking the letter and quickly returning to his tent, where he eagerly tore it open.
The letter began with his brother's usual inquiries about Napoleon's situation in the military. Then, with excitent, his brother told him that, due to a fortunate opportunity, he had been chosen by an assistant to the Minister of Comrce to beco a clerk in the negotiation office.
Because they urgently needed personnel, he didn't have to pay for the position himself, and the salary was a substantial 65 livres per month, plus a generous allowance.
Napoleon smiled with relief. This was much better than the struggling business his brother had previously tried to run. With this stable inco, he no longer had to bear the burden of the family's enormous debt alone.
Of course, this governnt position for Joseph Buonaparte had been arranged by Joseph himself, who had instructed Bailly to secure it for him. Corsicans held family ties in very high regard, and after Napoleon's father passed away, his older brother had taken on the role of father. Napoleon listened to his brother's advice closely.
Joseph's plan was to integrate Napoleon's brother into the French bureaucratic system. As he advanced in his career, his position would influence his thinking. Eventually, even if Napoleon wanted to pursue Corsican independence, his brother wouldn't support it.
Napoleon continued reading, and Joseph Buonaparte inford him that by the ti this letter arrived, he would already have left Paris with the Minister of Comrce to participate in an important trade negotiation in Bavaria.
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