Chapter 9 – The Initial Engagement
February 1, 1864. Under the cover of darkness and the thick fog rising from the Ida River, the combined Prussian-Austrian forces reached the river's southern bank. In the stillness of night, men and horses moved across the winding Ida River, which lay quiet and mist-shrouded.
At the headquarters on the south bank, the German coalition hurriedly used all available boats and bridges under their control to cross the cold Ida River. Tens of thousands of troops advanced in haste along that narrow, tranquil stretch of water, creating a stir that was anything but small. Even though the army had prepared meticulously before setting out, a large-scale troop movement was still bound to be noticed as long as the Danish scouts weren't blind or deaf.
But the Danes could only watch it all unfold. The allied forces had an overwhelming numerical advantage, and spread across the narrow terrain of the Jutland Peninsula, they seemed to the small Danish army like a flood on all sides. The Ida River twisted and turned; there were many possible crossing points, making it hard to defend. Worse yet, the Ida River, which began in the hills south of Kiel, had a gentle current and was not very wide—impossible to hold without a massive defensive line extending a hundred kilometers or more. With Denmark's population only in the millions, there was no way to achieve this in time.
Before long, the vanguard of the allied army landed on the northern bank and began setting up positions along the shore. For now, the Danish forces did not dare to act rashly, merely watching from a distance. Their scouting cavalry loitered at the edges of the allied formations. Under these odd circumstances, both sides locked eyes, forming a tense stalemate.
The Danish military, not daring to be careless, pulled back its forces to face the coalition while sending swift riders to relay news of the German forces' crossing to the royal capital. Waiting on government orders to decide the next move, and knowing it was at a disadvantage, the Danish army would not take independent action. It painted the situation as dire as possible, passing on the danger to the authorities so that if they were defeated, the blame could be shifted to the enemy. It wasn't their soldiers who were slacking; it was that two "rogue" countries—Prussia and Austria—had joined forces along with several smaller allies to attack Denmark. If defeat came, it would be a political failure of the government; with such a powerful enemy and no allied support, someone would be stepping down.
Naturally, the Danish government refused to wait helplessly. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs urgently contacted the British ambassador. The prime minister personally led a delegation to request assistance from Britain's envoy, and the government sent emissaries to Russia, France, and even Sweden. Unluckily, none of those diplomats offered any concrete answers. Britain still openly supported Denmark, but when it came to actually sending troops, the British said they were awaiting news from home and advised not to rush. They believed their kingdom would soon respond.
February 2. Prussia took the initiative by launching a probing attack against the Danish positions, attempting to outflank the Danes.
…
Half an hour earlier, the winter wind on the Jutland Peninsula felt bitterly cold. Gusts brushed the faces of soldiers gripping their steel rifles, and the frosty breath they exhaled turned at once into pale mist before their eyes. An officer leading the men pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat. The box had a neat cornflower symbol printed on it—the trademark of Ernst's tobacco factory.
He lifted the paper lid, took out a cigarette, and placed it in his mouth. With his free hand he reached into his pocket for a kerosene lighter. Crouched against a trench wall, he shielded the flame from the wind with one hand while using the other to flick the lighter's flint wheel. A flurry of sparks sprang forth, igniting the oil-soaked wick in a flash. Leaning in to the flame, the young officer lit the end of his cigarette, which glowed red in the darkness. He took a deep drag, felt the smoke pass through his throat and into his lungs, then exhaled a thick stream of smoke. He felt a surge of calm, as though his anxiety had lifted. He settled down to wait for the order to charge.
…
Once the command post issued the order to attack, Prussian troops set out under their officers' direction to assault the Danish fortifications. Amid the roaring artillery, the battle-hardened Prussian soldiers advanced steadily, none daring to fall back. Their only reliance was on moving forward and on the rifles in their hands—reloading, taking aim, firing, all in one smooth motion. Exploding shells tore up the ground, leaving one crater after another. Smoke and dirt filled the air, and only the muzzle flashes from enemy guns lit the way ahead.
"Bang… bang… bang…" After a fierce round of gunfire and cannon blasts, the Danes—using their defenses and advantageous terrain—successfully repelled the Prussian offensive. Though the Prussians persisted, their gunfire grew sporadic. The first wave had not met expectations. The charging forces took heavy casualties, though they did not break the disciplined Prussian lines. Seeing it was merely a probe, the rear command post promptly ordered the assault units to withdraw in an orderly manner. Thus ended the first exchange of fire between the coalition forces and Denmark. To the Danes, the Prussian "barbarians" did not seem so fearsome after all.
Prussia's rear command, however, was unconcerned. This was only the appetizer; the operation had barely begun. The artillery in the rear had not even been deployed. The initial attack was just to test the Danish army's caliber. Denmark could still put up some resistance, but as far as the Prussian officers were concerned, it was nowhere near enough. The Prussians feared no intense battle. They had long been known as Europe's most martial people, having faced all manner of conflict. This was only a limited test by Prussia alone; neither the German Confederation nor the Austrian Empire had participated yet.
The combined might of these parties far outstripped Denmark's. Prussia had long contended with strong powers like France, Russia, and Austria, often surviving and thriving under adversity. Denmark was a declining nation in their eyes, making this operation feel almost effortless. In the previous war (the First Schleswig War), Denmark had relied heavily on international support. This time, the Danish government lagged behind politically. They failed to secure a timely alliance with any other continental powers—like Britain, which had already warned Prussia once before. At the moment, the British had made no major move. Possessing a formidable navy did not mean they could just land troops on the continent to fight Prussian soldiers. Meanwhile, France might have been able to derail Prussia's plans, but Bismarck had already maneuvered shrewdly in diplomatic matters, trading concessions for Napoleon III's silence. Britain was still hoping to pull Russia in, yet since the Crimean War, during which Britain and France had inflicted severe damage on Russia, the Russians had no intention of intervening in European affairs now.
All that left Britain in a bind. Its navy couldn't just come ashore to fight the Prussians. So the British could only offer Denmark endless verbal support with no real intent to send troops. Maintaining the balance of power in Europe was Britain's core strategy, and Denmark's loss of two duchies wouldn't change the continental situation significantly. At worst, Denmark would pull back deeper into Jutland and lose some land. If Denmark lost the war, it would only increase its resentment of Prussia and grow closer to Britain, laying groundwork for British influence in a future European upheaval. Of course, the British had other tactics at their disposal, but they didn't rise to the level of actual warfare, and Denmark had yet to commit fully to the fight.
Though Denmark was a small country, it had once been prosperous, proving its strength in the last Schleswig War. With control over the entrance to the Baltic Sea, it enjoyed a favorable location and a robust economy, enough to field a decent-sized army. But war is never predictable. Who could say if Denmark might pull through again? Besides, the Danish government had shown unusual confidence before the hostilities began; otherwise, things wouldn't have gone this far. Even if nobody knew why Denmark felt so sure of itself (at least Ernst couldn't figure it out), the country's sluggish performance on the diplomatic stage continued.
Now, Prussia had stabilized relationships with most great powers by balancing alliances, even bringing Austria and the German Confederation on board. International scrutiny was off their backs, so unless they suffered a major military defeat, Schleswig and Holstein were as good as theirs. The only remaining step would be to resolve matters with Austria after the war, but Bismarck already had plans in place.
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