The King’s simple words made a deep impression. His soldiers answered with an enthusiastic shout. “We will die with you!” exclaimed the grizzled warriors, while tears rolled down their powder-stained cheeks. The King was deeply moved by these expressions of love and devotion. He had chosen an elevated spot for his camp. The enemy was exultant, for they believed it an easy task to capture the little army, and they hastened to surround the site where it was camped so as to cut off escape in every direction. Frederick’s sharp eyes watched their movements, but they did not appear to trouble him. On the other hand, he ordered his soldiers to eat their dinner, he and his generals at the same time sitting at open table. The French could not conceal their surprise at such recklessness. They were sure he was ignorant of his inevitable fate. They were not aware it was only a trick, for while part of the soldiers were eating, the others were getting the horses in order and artillery and ammunition in readiness. When all the preparations were made, and the King believed the right moment had come, the tents disappeared in a trice and the Prussians stood in marching order, ready for the attack. Before it began, the King noticed Möller, an artillery colonel, who was of great service to him in field operations, and who at all critical times, when his advice was asked, invariably said, “Believe me, Your Majesty, my guardian angel says it will be all right.” Möller had been assigned a very important position. The King had ordered his guns placed so that they were invisible to the enemy, and had hopes of good results from them. He hastened up to him, and placing his hand familiarly upon his shoulder, said, “Well, Möller, what does your guardian angel say this time? Is everything all right?” “Oh, yes, Your Majesty,” he replied. “My angel promises victory.”