I am the Crown Prince of France Chapter 695 - 696: The Bastion

Kowalczyk and the other committee mbers exchanged uneasy glances, swallowing hard. They were still hesitant.

"Mr. Schumann, even if the sailors and workers are willing to defend Gdańsk, we don't have enough weapons," Kowalczyk said.

Schumann smiled faintly. "Well, as you know, I sotis dabble in less-than-official trades. But please, don't report .

"The Fat Philis anchored in the port is one of my ships. It's loaded with weapons bound for the Middle East. If necessary, my Persian buyers can wait a bit longer."

Kowalczyk's eyes widened in shock. "This... this is incredible! How much 'cargo' does it carry?"

"3,500 flintlock muskets, along with enough ammunition to last four months."

Of course, this was no random trade ship destined for Persia—it was a carefully planned provision arranged by Joseph, quietly stationed off the port for this very purpose.

"God in heaven! Thank you for your rcy on Gdańsk!" Kowalczyk's expression shifted from despair to relief.

As a Pole and an investor in the port, he certainly didn't want to see Gdańsk fall into foreign hands. Before, he had resigned himself to surrender due to the lack of options. Now, he finally saw a glimr of hope.

Even Romilev, the port constable, was stunned and elated as he stared at Schumann.

Romilev had initially planned to lead his 400-man patrol unit in a desperate defense of the port. He hadn't expected the Frenchman to co bearing so many surprises.

Suddenly rembering sothing, Romilev said, "Mr. Schumann, we'll also need cannons. Do you have any of those?"

"No cannons, unfortunately."

Seeing the disappointnt in their faces, Schumann quickly added, "But have you forgotten? There are several ard rchant ships in the port. We can remove their cannons and repurpose them."

Romilev frowned. "Most shipowners won't agree to lend us their cannons..."

Schumann turned to Kowalczyk. "Please, issue an order in the na of the committee to requisition all rchant ships in the port."

"We can't just do that!"

"Tell them that any ship contributing to the defense of the port will receive one to three years of tax exemption. I believe they'll be more than happy to cooperate."

An hour later, patrol units began arresting all Prussians in the city.

Simultaneously, leaflets detailing Prussia's betrayal—colluding with Russia to stab Poland in the back—spread across Gdańsk like wildfire.

The leaflets, pre-printed and stored in the Fat Philis's hold, also included a call to action from the Gdańsk Managent Committee. They urged every citizen to gather at Warehouse No. 1 and enlist in the defense of the port, promising military pensions for anyone wounded or disabled in the fight.

Within monts, Gdańsk was ablaze with righteous fury.

Sailors and dockworkers alike cursed the Prussians' treachery, rallying in front of Warehouse No. 1. Many had long wanted to return to Warsaw to help resist the Russian invasion, but Prussian blockades near Malbork and Tuchola had left them stranded. Their only other option was to wait for a ship to sail them to Courland, from where they could make their way south.

Now, however, they could fight for their holand right here in Gdańsk.

Four days later.

Hohen and his 13,000-strong Prussian force arrived at Gdańsk after a grueling forced march, only to find an eerily empty port.

The panicked reception he had expected from the Poles was nowhere to be seen. Even the city's Prussian residents—so 600 workers and shipowners—were nowhere in sight.

Soon, scouts returned with reports that the city was nearly deserted, with most buildings stripped of their contents.

Hohen clenched his riding crop in frustration.

Despite marching as fast as possible, the cowardly Poles had still managed to flee!

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he reasoned that, even if the expected loot was gone, capturing this vital port would still earn him the king's praise and rewards.

Turning to a subordinate officer, he ordered:

"Have the soldiers secure the port. Search the warehouses—there might still be so goods left behind."

From the comfort of a lavish villa, Hohen and his officers were discussing plans to advance into Kuyavia when the sound of cannon fire suddenly rumbled from the northeast.

Frowning, Hohen walked to the window and saw black smoke rising from the middle of the port.

He imdiately dispatched a ssenger to investigate, but before the ssenger could leave, a breathless scout burst into the room.

"Report! There's a bastion on the eastern side of Westerplatte Peninsula. Our troops ca under heavy artillery fire from Polish defenders there and have already lost over 40 n!"

The Prussians' lack of reconnaissance had cost them dearly. Mistaking the "Lacoste Baron's Estate" for a simple mansion, they had approached carelessly, only to be t with a devastating cannon barrage.

The Fat Philis's sailors, highly trained in artillery after a year at the Paris Police Academy, manned the bastion's cannons with deadly precision. Over 100 skilled gunners now ford the backbone of the bastion's defense.

Hohen's expression darkened. The bastion hadn't been ntioned in any intelligence reports.

Upon reaching the peninsula, he finally saw the "estate" through his spyglass. Its elegant exterior hid rows of cannon barrels protruding from inner walls.

Schumann had commandeered 80 cannons from the rchant ships docked in the port. Though cumberso to operate on land, their sheer numbers compensated for any shortcomings. Each cannon had been pre-aid at strategic chokepoints, ready to unleash volleys whenever Prussian troops appeared.

Hohen ordered two light infantry battalions to assault the bastion. According to his intelligence, the port was defended by just 400 Polish patroln—glorified policen with little combat training. Even with the bastion, they should stand no chance against trained soldiers.

However, as the Prussians pushed through heavy artillery fire and closed in on the bastion, its outer walls suddenly bristled with over a thousand musket barrels.

Although the defenders lacked coordinated volleys or precise aim, the narrow approach to the bastion ant the Prussian troops were packed tightly together, making them easy targets.

Unlike battlefield skirmishes requiring disciplined formations, defending a fort required no such precision. As long as soone could load and fire a musket, they could contribute.

This simplicity allowed Schumann to arm dockworkers and hastily train them for the defense.

As his troops retreated under heavy losses, Hohen furiously demanded his artillery to bombard the bastion—only to rember he had left all his cannons with General Hopner.

It took two weeks for the Prussians to bring ten cannons to Gdańsk.

By then, news of the Prussian invasion of Gdańsk and western Poland had already reached Warsaw.

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