Aye, it seems Russia is the "Achilles Heel" of European military leaders. First, Napoleon's grand army, then Hitler's nazi force.
Go even further to Karl Gustav King Charles XII of Sweden and his attmepted campaign into Russia. He had 12000 musketeers, 20000 other infantry, 4000 cavalry, and 400 cannons. He lost 60% of his force in Russia, and another 30% to the Polish. But, he... he was a very stupid man.
Everyone was
always stupid against Russia. Everyone forgot where Russia begins. The more leaders would push, the further Russia would fall back, and so easily would Russia be able to surround them and shred them to dust.
Empires always end at Asia Minor, though. Roman Empire, Persian Empire, Soviet Union, and so on. It's hard to settle there, I guess. Back to the topic at hand...
I have to commend Charles XII, though. He alone managed to run around through Russia and Turkey, hiding in the Ottoman Empire and eventually provoking them into attacking Russia, before running to Vienna to make the long trip back to Sweden, which he arrived at right before they would elect a new ruler, after finding out he was in Turkey. They thought he would still be in Turkey by the time he appeared again in Sweden. What really gets me is that he immediately slept. He went to bed, and slept for a long while. No speeches, no apologies, no celebrations. The people were glad he was home, and so he slept.
That doesn't make him one of my favorite commanders, though. I find that a very hilarious story, but that's about it. I do like generals from that time period... Prince Eugene of Savoy, Ivan the Terrible... but my favorite general of all time may just be Hannibal Barca. I don't like Carthage more than most nations during the ancient times, but he was a leader of a conquest unlike any other military conquest lead by anyone. Many generals get cocky when leading several thousands of soldiers around for weeks, but Hannibal and his brothers would cross men, horses, and bloody elephants across the Rhone river, while expecting combat from the Volcae on the other side, and then crossing the Alps by chiseling away at the rocks in order to quite practically move the mountains in order to walk massive beasts across it. The casualties would eventually reach tens of thousands, but the feat was hands-down damned impressive. Hamilcar would be proud to call him his son, if he could only have seen him do that.