Holding the telegram in his hand, Ferdinand I of Bulgaria paced his office, his anger palpable. Pieces of a shattered tea cup lay scattered on the floor – a silent testament to the king's earlier outburst. The telegram, a message from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, had ignited his fury. It was ironic, considering Ferdinand himself had roots in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, yet here he was, seething over their communication.
Prime Minister Geschov stood by, observing the king's rage with a sense of resignation. The telegram had indeed brought bad news: Austria-Hungary, lacking support from Germany, would not be able to join forces with Bulgaria against Serbia as previously promised. Instead, they offered 10 million levs in funds and another 5 million in arms to support Bulgaria's military efforts. However, what Bulgaria desperately needed was direct military intervention, not just financial and arms aid. The Austro-Hungarians had also failed to mention any plans to engage Serbia along the border, a crucial element of the strategy they had hinted at before.
Ferdinand I's anger was understandable. The situation was akin to being promised help in a fight, only to be left to fend for oneself at the last moment. Yet, no amount of anger could solve the pressing issues at hand. Public opinion in Bulgaria was fervently in favor of military action, making it impossible to back down now.
As the king's anger subsided, Prime Minister Geschov cautiously asked, "Your Majesty, shall we continue with our military operations?"
Ferdinand I, still holding the telegram, responded sharply, "Is there even a possibility to halt our plans now?"
The prime minister fell silent, fully aware of the national sentiment. The public's mood was fiery; any attempts to quell the fervor would likely backfire disastrously.
Understanding the delicate position they were in, Ferdinand I sighed and conceded the management of the government to Geschov, "The governance is yours to handle."
Prime Minister Geschov, knowing the king's history of leading from the front as in the Ottoman War, quickly interjected, "Your Majesty, perhaps it is wiser to let Lieutenant General Mikhail Savov command the operations. The battlefield is not far from Sofia, and we can keep you informed swiftly."
Ferdinand I explained, "It is precisely because our advantage is not significant that I must be there to boost morale. Rest assured, I won't engage directly in combat."
Accepting the king's decision, Geschov could only wish him, "Then, I pray for your swift and decisive victory."
Before leaving the office, Geschov mentioned another concern regarding Romania's military maneuvers and the territorial adjustments pending under a recent agreement. "Should we not discuss these developments with the Romanian ambassador?"
Ferdinand I dismissed the concern lightly, "They conduct exercises annually. Let's not worry unduly. We'll address the territorial matters after dealing with Serbia and Greece. Meanwhile, we might increase taxes in the regions concerned."
The next morning, as Ferdinand prepared to depart for the front, his family gathered to see him off. His eldest son, Crown Prince Boris, expressed a desire to join him at the front. His brother, Prince Kirill, echoed the sentiment, eager to confront the "untrustworthy Serbs and Greeks."
Ferdinand I sharply rebuked them, "War is not a game. It is deadly, and any one of you could be killed."
Both princes protested, claiming they were not afraid of death, to which Ferdinand I sternly replied, "But I am," and instructed Queen Mary to ensure they remained in the palace.
With his family's safety assured, Ferdinand I set off for Miloka, the headquarters for the campaign against Serbia. The town, strategically located and bustling with military activity, was ready for his arrival.
Upon reaching Miloka, high-ranking officers, including Lieutenant General Mikhail Savov and Generals Vasir Kudinchev and Nikolai Ivanov, greeted him. Ferdinand I, bypassing formalities, immediately addressed the gathered officers, rallying them with a speech that emphasized the unjust actions of Serbia and Greece and the need for a strong response.
After the speech, he discussed military preparations with Savov, who revealed a bold plan to concentrate all heavy artillery and machine guns at the front lines to overwhelm Serbian forces quickly. Ferdinand I, recognizing the gravity of the situation, approved the plan.
As arrangements were made for the massive deployment of artillery and machine guns, Ferdinand I could only hope that this show of force would be enough to secure a swift victory and justify the difficult decisions made in the face of complex international and domestic challenges.
As Lieutenant General Mikhail Savov concluded his strategic briefing, the room was filled with a tense air of anticipation. He had just outlined the pivotal role of the Fourth Division in breaking through the Serbian front lines, a task that would set the stage for the broader offensive aimed at reclaiming the Ohrid region. General Ivanov of the Third Army had already been instructed to have his forces ready to support the Fourth Division by dealing with any flanking threats, ensuring a deep penetration into enemy territory.
"General Ivanov, you will need to allocate at least half of your troops to follow up the Fourth Division and provide necessary support," Lieutenant General Savov had directed firmly.
General Ivanov, a seasoned military man with a stern demeanor, stood up and acknowledged the order with a crisp, "Your Excellency."
Satisfied with Ivanov's response, Lieutenant General Savov then turned his attention to Lieutenant General Vasil Kudinchev, querying about the preparations of his units. Kudinchev, recognizing the gravity of the situation, promptly stood and reported, "We are ready. The 2nd Independent Artillery Regiment, along with our own corps artillery, are positioned near the Bitola, close to the Serbian army's lurking positions. We plan to move them to the attack positions tonight. The 1st Division, designated for the initial assault, is currently resting but will be ready to advance on your command."
Lieutenant General Savov nodded, expressing his approval with a brief, "Very good, good job." He then surveyed the room, filled with the other generals and officers, and asked if there were any uncertainties or questions about the plan. The silence that followed confirmed their understanding and readiness.
"Return to your troops and make final preparations," he commanded, dismissing the assembly but retaining General Vidic for a further discussion.
As the room cleared, Major General Vidic, commander of the Fourth Division, approached Lieutenant General Savov. Vidic, though not imposing in stature and more scholarly in appearance with his glasses and calm demeanor, was a proven military leader. His strategic acumen during the conflict with the Ottomans had earned him this crucial role.
"Major General Vidic, the success of this operation hinges significantly on your performance. If there's anything you need, now is the time to speak," Savov asserted, showing a blend of confidence and concern.
"Our Fourth Division is prepared, sir. I will lead our men to reclaim what rightfully belongs to Bulgaria," Vidic responded, his voice carrying a mix of determination and the weight of responsibility.
Lieutenant General Savov, reassured by Vidic's readiness, gave a nod of approval and then excused himself to report to King Ferdinand I, who had been following the proceedings from an adjacent room.
"Your Majesty, the army is now ready. The outcome tonight will be decisive," he informed the king, who was gazing contemplatively at a statue of a saint.
King Ferdinand, without turning, asked, "Do you believe we will succeed?"
"My Majesty, I have full confidence in our plans and our soldiers," replied Savov firmly.
Meanwhile, Major General Vidic left the headquarters and drove to the front lines where his soldiers of the Fourth Division were preparing for the night's operations. The troops were rejuvenating themselves with a hearty meal consisting of bread, roast beef with potatoes, pea cheese soup, and sausages—a good spread by military standards.
As the sun began to set around 6 PM, the soldiers engaged in light conversations, some reminiscing about their families, others enjoying a quiet smoke, while a few took the chance to catch some more sleep before the impending action.
By 8 PM, the entire Fourth Division was mobilized. In complete silence, they moved like specters towards their starting positions, three kilometers away. The only sound was the muffled footsteps of hundreds of men moving in unison.
Vidic, watching his troops, remarked to his chief of staff, "It seems we are set for a successful surprise attack."
"I don't foresee any major issues," the chief of staff concurred, sharing Vidic's optimism.
However, upon reaching the starting position, their optimism was dented. Vidic, using the moonlight to survey the Serbian defenses, cursed under his breath. "Damn, these Serbs are on alert. It looks like they've reinforced with an additional brigade."
The Serbian defenses were indeed bolstered, with more fires lit and visible movements at the front lines. Despite this setback, the Fourth Division had no choice but to proceed.