As the two spoke, the gunfire ahead grew increasingly distinct.
Joseph looked up and saw the French Artillery positions not far away, spitting flames. That meant they were less than a kilometer from the front line.
Just then, the Allied Forces artillery fire from the southeast gradually weakened, then ceased completely moments later.
A long Bugle Call sounded from the French positions, followed by bagpipes. This meant the enemy had withdrawn.
Joseph glanced at the sky and gestured to Massena. "Let's go greet the soldiers at the front."
Massena hurriedly stopped him. "Your Highness, you truly cannot go any farther. If you wish to inspect the troops, I'll have the soldiers come here to see you. The enemy likely won't launch another attack today anyway."
He was truly terrified that a shell might suddenly come flying from somewhere and strike the Crown Prince. If that happened, he would not even have a place to weep.
Joseph could not argue with him, so he pointed to a level patch of open ground beside the artillery positions. "There, then."
At the positions southeast of Eschdorf, Orol took a deep breath of the stewed beef scent drifting from the Field Dining Car and could not stop himself from swallowing.
"Is it not ready yet?" he asked the comrade beside him. "Actually, I think it would be fine if it simmered a little less. The meat would have more chew to it."
The Sergeant came over with a smile. "Wait a little longer. I heard the Regiment Commander had Old Simon add a dish of Corn Egg Scramble for us, since we performed exceptionally well in today's battle."
Orol swallowed again. "Wonderful. I'm going to mix it into my mashed potatoes..."
"Oh, you always turn every delicacy into something that looks like animal