November 6th, 1792
Jemappes; Hainaut, Belgium
Austria cursed under his breath as he heard the news. "Are you sure we don't have any advantages at this point?" he asked.
The soldier reporting shook his head. "I'm afraid not, sir. We're extremely outnumbered, and we've already begun to lost count of how many men have been killed and wounded after 200, and that was quite a while ago. Not only that, but a lot of our soldiers have been captured. The French casualties seem greater, but, then again, they do have more people."
Austria scoweled and outstretched his hand. "Someone give me a gun. I need to be out there fighting."
"Sir, are you sure you-"
"Didn't you hear me the first time?" Austria asked impatiently. The soldier frowned and handed Austria a gun. He didn't think Austria should have been out there fighting. Or, at least didn't see Austria as the fighting type.
"Austria," came another voice. Austria turned around and saw Belgium. Her short blond hair was messy, and she was obviously distressed. "This battle isn't going anywhere. The French are obviously winning. I think it'd be best if you retreat."
"I know this might be a bit hard on you, Belgium, but-"
"No buts." She looked serious, and then her expression softed. "Besides, isn't there that saying...how does it go...'You might have won the battle'...how does the rest go?"
Austria hesitated and then let out a sigh of defeat. "'But you haven't won the war,'" he finished for her. "Fine. I suppose you're right." He turned to one of the soldiers present. "Tell them that we are withdrawing from the battlefield," he ordered.
This soldier wasn't as dubious as the other. "Not trying to be disrespectful, sir, but don't you think this will just make the French think we're weak?"
"Let them think that," Austria said dismissively. "Let their self confidence be raised. Once this war is over it will all come crashing down on them anyways."
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"Retreated?"
The soldier reporting nodded. "Oui. We won," he said.
France laughed and took another sip of wine. "This is extremely good news. A very successful win on our part. We now have the Austrian Netherlands! How brilliant!"
"Sir, not to spoil your mood, but I would hardly call this successful," the soldier said. "We lost around 2,000 men out there."
"We will replace them," France said, waving his hand dissmissively.
The soldier looked at France, completely appalled, wondering if he had been drinking too much wine. "R-replace them? Not only is that suggestion completely careless, but it shows your apathy towards the men's lives and their work."
France let out a drunken laugh. "Sounds like that doesn't it? Non, I appreciate everyone of those lives. I'm just saying, mourning and grieving will get us nowhere. I'm not trying to sound heartless, I'm really not. You know very well that I have a big heart. But I also want to win this war. You understand, oui?"
The soldier was hesitant, and then nodded. "I understand. There's another thing that's been concerning alot of us, sir."
"What is it now?" France asked with annoyance.
"W-Well, we were wondering, as well as the Frenchmen who aren't soldiers, what you were planning to do with all the land and territory that we've won."
France put the wine away from his lips and looked up at the cieling thoughtfully. The soldier waited, looking at him expectantly. "Well..." France started to say, and then shrugged. "We'll think of something."
The soldier's jaw dropped. "You haven't constructed a plan?" he asked with disbelief. "So, what was the whole point of winning those territories?"
"Calm yourself," France said with a smile. "We'll figure this all out eventually. Discuss it with the General or anyone else if you're really curious. Will that be all for you, then?"
The soldier was about to say something else, but decided against it and nodded. "Yes, sir. I will leave you now to lie in your self-indulgance," he added a bit bitterly.
"Merci!" France said to the soldier as he left, taking another sip of wine.