The miserable days were short-lived. After more than half a month of training, these aristocratic officers were finally beginning to look a little like soldiers.
At this point, the training had also changed. Besides basic physical conditioning, they were now taking military command classes.
The lessons were very focused, with every case study covering urban warfare. Franz had carefully chosen them, naturally because he found the subject interesting.
Everyone had some military background, so these classes weren't hard for them to follow. Compared with the physical training, many of them seemed positively eager.
This was where we excelled! What sense did it make to train us like ordinary infantrymen?
Albrecht gave a cold laugh. "All right, I'm done. Work in squads and assume the enemy is attacking Vienna. Come up with an appropriate defense plan;
"or assume the enemy has already occupied Vienna and we're launching a counterattack. Come up with an appropriate battle plan.
"You have three days. I'll grade you. Anyone who fails will have proved that their military command skills aren't up to scratch and that they can only serve as a brawler. In that case, you can go back to physical training!"
A chill descended from the heavens. Many of them wore long faces and could only turn to their teammates with hopeful eyes.
"Your military command skills aren't up to scratch, so you can only serve as a brawler." If that was the assessment hanging over them, their military careers ending would be the least of their worries. The real issue was that they'd lose face!
They were all young men. Who wanted to admit he was a brawler with no brains?
No one doubted that Albrecht could go through with it. His family had a tradition of doing just that.
When Archduke Charles carried out his military reforms, he had done the same thing: turned a group of aristocrats he considered unfit to serve as officers into ordinary infantrymen, forcing them to retire of their own accord.
Those retired aristocratic officers had truly had "no bright future"!
Their story was still told in aristocratic circles, where they were known as the shame of the Austrian nobility.
The aristocrats of the German lands all upheld the tradition of military service. They had been raised to become officers from childhood. After more than a decade of exposure to military matters, even a pig would be an educated pig!
In short, the Austrian nobility of this era hadn't completely fallen into decadence yet. They still had a sense of honor.
Even during the Austro-Prussian War, the Austrian army's combat strength ranked among the best in Europe.
The City Defense Force might have been an exception. Perhaps it represented the lowest point of the Austrian army; Vienna's splendor had corroded its officers' resolve.
Who could say for sure? The most important thing now was to save these eight hundred lost young men and pull them back from the brink of depravity. Then the coming March Revolution of Vienna wouldn't be a problem.
"How are they doing, Albrecht? Are there any promising ones among them?" Franz asked.
"I'm afraid I'll disappoint you. Their abilities are only passable. They still have a great deal of ground to make up. Let's see how they do after they've caught up on all this knowledge." Albrecht shook his head.
"What about serving as company- or platoon-level officers? If we sent them to the troops right now to command a company or a platoon in battle, how much fighting strength could they bring out?" Franz asked with concern.
"You don't expect much from them, do you? Right now, the vast majority aren't suited to serve as frontline commanders. If we had to use them, they could probably draw out six or seven tenths of a unit's combat strength." Albrecht thought for a moment.
Franz couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at that answer. With that much combat strength, they could just about handle what was coming.
"Then give them another round of training. Whatever their abilities, at least they're loyal and full of spirit. You don't need to worry about them deserting!" Franz said with a broad smile.
It was a good thing he had come by in person. With the City Defense Force and the Imperial Guard in hand, the outcome was basically settled.
"That's true. They're still better than those old hands in the City Defense Force. But Franz, what good does that do? We aren't at war now. Are you planning to replace those old hands with them?" Albrecht asked, puzzled.
"Replacing so many officers all at once would have far too great an impact. We can assign them to units as deputies under the pretext of training them.
"Then we'll organize an armed training march and let them take command. We'll see how it goes!" Franz lied without batting an eye.
Even he didn't believe what he was saying. Had he gone to all this trouble just to let these men replace the parasites in the City Defense Force?
Fortunately, this was the European Continent. If this were the East, the moment a crown prince tried something like this, everyone's first reaction would be: Oh no, the crown prince is plotting a rebellion!
Franz didn't explain, and Albrecht couldn't be bothered to press him. After all, Ferdinand I had personally given him the order, and Franz was now overseeing the City Defense Force.
There was no need to worry about a rebellion. Such a thing wouldn't fly in Europe. Besides, Franz didn't need to do anything; in another two or three years, he could act as regent.
Everyone knew Ferdinand I's situation. He couldn't have another generation. Once he reached the right age, he would exercise the emperor's powers as heir apparent, and those powers would be a little greater than the Regency Council's.
If Franz wanted to become emperor, he could just wait for his uncle to die! He had no reason to take such a dangerous gamble.
Otherwise, Albrecht wouldn't have bothered going along with him. And these aristocratic officers wouldn't have been so willing to play along, either!
"All right, have it your way. As long as you don't cause a mess, I'll cooperate with you." Albrecht said helplessly.
In Albrecht's eyes, Franz was simply a spirited young man who wanted to make something of himself.
He had been that age once, too, and knew there was no point in opposing him. The more you tried to stop him, the more determined he'd be to do it.
So far, Franz's actions had stayed within the rules. He hadn't gone and made a complete mess of things.
On the surface, Franz was planning to replace the decadent aristocratic officers with younger ones. That wouldn't provoke a fierce backlash from the aristocracy.
Everyone considered it perfectly acceptable. After all, the meat was staying in the pot, and these aristocrats depended on their military posts to make a living.
Perhaps he'd send one aristocratic officer home, only for that man to be replaced by his own son or brother—or, at worst, a distant relative.
If Franz had promoted commoner officers, Albrecht wouldn't have been so accommodating. He couldn't abandon his class allegiance.
If Franz had known what he was thinking, he would have told him he was overthinking it. Promoting commoner officers in this era? What a joke.
Setting aside all other factors, the two sides weren't even in the same league when it came to military aptitude.
Unless a soldier was a once-in-a-generation genius, training an illiterate man into a competent officer would take years.
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