Kutuzov continued, "Also, the Engineer Battalion is to proceed to the Dnieper River at once and build a Pontoon Bridge capable of carrying Twelve-Pound Cannon within a week."
The staff officer beside him felt uneasy at those words. It seemed the commander was preparing to withdraw.
After hesitating, he still reminded him quietly, "General, His Majesty the Emperor's order is for us to hold Minsk at all costs..."
"I am doing exactly that." Kutuzov glanced at him before turning his gaze toward the battlefield. "The 5th, 6th, and 11th Cossack cavalry battalions are to launch an all-out assault on the enemy artillery positions at once. The Bianov Corps will provide cover."
"Tell them that by three o'clock this afternoon, I do not want to hear the Poles' cannon anymore."
His sharp instinct for the battlefield told him that Minsk's situation would only grow worse.
If he truly carried out the Tsar's orders, the only result would be the burial of Russia's most elite force here.
He had to hold out until the United Kingdom's massive shipments of supplies arrived. Only then would he have a chance to drive back the Polish Army.
Before that, unless he could destroy those cannons that had suddenly appeared across from them, they might be able to hold on a while longer.
Thus, he threw all three of his most battleworthy cavalry battalions into the fight, hoping only that the Poles, after attacking for so long, might let their guard down.
Afterward, he summoned several senior officers and issued a string of counterattack orders over the map.
An hour later, dense War Drum beats rang out from the Russian Army's central position, which had remained huddled in defense all this time. More than five thousand Russian Infantry, formed into Infantry Lines and supported by Skirmishers,