Glory to the French Navy: Admiral Napoleon, Conqueror of the World

Chapter 2 - At Brienne Military Academy and the French Naval Academy

Now, I was able to enter the Brienne Military Academy in France thanks to the scholarship I received. This institution is a fully residential educational facility established to train officer candidates for the military, and only children of the noble class in France attend from their early years.

In such places, those of lower status within the noble class, like myself, were often subjected to bullying. Particularly for someone poor and from Corsica like me, I seemed to be a target of ridicule, especially by those who were wealthy and had parents with titles.

"Oi, what's the Italian with the Neapolitan disease (syphilis) doing here?"

"Go back to your lair, Neapolitan scum."

I had no choice but to become silent. Responding in such situations would be futile. Besides, ten years later, the French Revolution would occur, and they would come to realize that their authority and power were nothing but a house of cards. Some would be killed, some would face the guillotine, some would flee abroad, and some would kneel before the citizens. Thinking about it, those who flaunted their power and arrogance were pitiable in a way.

However, despite not having a Corsican accent now, being mocked for being Corsican was an unbearable humiliation for me. I was constantly looked down upon because of my Corsican origin. Unable to make friends, with no one to talk to, I lived in a lonely and silent environment. I immersed myself in the library, reading history books and hero tales. Books were still expensive, so having a library where I could read them for free was a blessing. Furthermore, as someone with memories of being a naval engineer, the subjects in the academy, focused on education, were mostly boring for me.

The original Napoleon excelled in mathematics, but for me, studying subjects like Latin and physics, in addition to mathematics, was easy. Yet, this seemed to aggravate the bullying even more. One day, when I was sketching the design of a Gatling gun in the margin of my notebook, someone reported it to the teacher. The teacher confiscated my notebook and said, "The most powerful weapon I've ever thought of? Corsicans seem to love their fantasies."

With that, the notebook was taken away and exposed to the entire class. Amid mocking words, I bit my lip in silence.

France, as a country, is highly conservative, and it is rare for them to be at the forefront of technology. However, they excel at advancing existing technologies. This is why they often find themselves perpetually in the second position or below.

After spending four years in such an environment, I graduated from the military academy. In 1784, I successfully passed the examination for admission to the prestigious French Naval Academy, founded in 1669. The Naval Academy, as the name suggests, is a training ground for naval officers. It typically requires about four years of study, focusing on various military training such as artillery, navigation, and seamanship, as well as instilling the necessary knowledge and skills for naval technical officers. Practical exercises, including maneuvers and gunnery using actual ships, are also conducted.

In this era, even in the army, advanced knowledge and skills, such as those required for artillery or engineering, were not popular. The technical officer candidates for the navy, whether from the upper or lower nobility, faced similar challenges.

I performed well as an artillery technical officer, graduating in about a year from my admission. Although my rank at graduation was second from the bottom, it was an unprecedented speed, considering it usually takes around four years. Well, I didn't need to learn things deliberately; knowledge and experience were already ingrained in my body.

I was able to make friends with some of the common-born and lower-noble technical officer candidates, which was a fruitful experience. In 1785, after successfully graduating, I received news of my father, Carlo Maria di Buonaparte's death.

"To die so soon... perhaps it's the curse of the Corsicans."

In reality, it was likely due to stress. Having switched sides in Corsica and being considered a traitor there, while being looked down upon as a rural Corsican by the French, staying in such a situation for a long time was undoubtedly stressful. After attending my father's funeral with my brother Giuseppe, who had dropped out of seminary school, I continued my career as a naval artillery ensign. I toured naval bases and garrisons along the Mediterranean, boarded naval vessels, and took long vacations to return to Corsica. At this point, it was a time of peace, and extended leaves from the military were relatively allowed.

"Hey, it's been a while since I came back. How have you all been?"

A man and a woman welcomed me with smiles.

"Welcome back, brother. I'm doing well."

"Welcome home, I'm doing fine."

Although I had many siblings, I could say that only my younger brother Louis and sister Pauline were relatively fond of me.

"Welcome home, Napoleone."

I handed over a portion of my military salary to my welcoming mother.

"I'm back, Mother. This is my pay this time."

She accepted it gratefully.

"Oh, thank you as always. Your being responsible is a great help."

"Well, it would be tough for you alone, Mother. My living expenses are covered by France."

I enjoyed the fleeting peace in this way.

After two years, following the tradition, I was promoted to the rank of sub-lieutenant, and another two years later, I rose to the rank of lieutenant.

During this time, I established connections with Lazare Nicolas Marguerite Carnot. Carnot was a common-born officer who led the military reform in the French army and was praised as the "Organizer of Victory." Of course, before the revolution, there were no opportunities for upward mobility for common-born technical officers. However, I admired his talents in military administration.

Then, the fateful moment arrived.

In 1787, disturbances began with the aristocratic resistance against the Bourbon monarchy, escalating into a full-fledged revolution involving all strata of French society in 1789. On July 14, 1789, citizens stormed the Bastille prison, marking the beginning of the French Revolution, which would strip away the privileges of clergy and nobility in France.