Chapter 729 - Capturing Wuchong
Poultry was butchered into standardized cuts according to Meat Processing Plant specifications, refrigerated, then prepared into food for the troops. This system served primarily hygienic purposes, but it also allowed effective control over the quantity and nutritional content supplied to each soldier.
Simply chopping ten chickens into random pieces and boiling them made distribution nearly impossible to measure and quality impossible to maintain. The difficulty in supervising such a system would inevitably breed corruption—soldiers distributing food could easily give two drumsticks to friends and relatives while leaving others with nothing but feet.
With portioned supply, everything was identical save for minor size variations. One drumstick per person meant precisely that—one drumstick, distributed by headcount. Any shortage required compensation from the quartermaster sergeant and cooks. No ambiguity. This was the "quantitative management" Wen Desi consistently advocated.
Portioned supply also maximized utilization. Once a bird entered the center, nothing was wasted. Beyond the meat, edible organs, and blood, inedible parts were dried and ground into feed and fertilizer. Even the feathers weren't discarded—all were baled and shipped to Lingao for disinfection and storage, destined to become stuffing for down jackets. Poor-quality feathers were processed into feather meal for animal feed. Xun Suji was currently collaborating with chemical experts to determine whether feathers could be used to manufacture soy sauce.
Fu Ji quickly became skilled at his work. As he loaded boxes of disassembled cuts onto carts bound for blast freezing, he couldn't help smacking his lips. When would he get to eat such delicacies?
The food at the Processing Center was considerably better than at the transit camp. Three meals of unpolished rice, accompanied by great cauldrons of cabbage soup made with chicken or duck stock—rendered from carcasses stripped of meat. The flavor was surprisingly good. After dinner, the otherwise valueless bone racks were collected and ground into bone meal, reportedly for fertilizer.
The Australian masters must come from poor families, Fu Ji thought. He felt a sudden kinship with these people.
The Marine detachment, having withdrawn to Humen, rested and trained for several days. The Great Whale wobbled through the channel on a series of trial runs. When the first hint of autumn chill appeared on the river, Chen Haiyang finally received orders from Lingao:
Negotiations fruitless. Proceed immediately to anchor at Bai'etan.
"We're going to shell Guangzhou now. It's come to this." Chen Haiyang handed the telegram to his confidential secretary. "Summon all squadron leaders and Transmigrators for a meeting immediately."
The fleet's departure was set for November 1st. It was a sunny day, but the autumn chill of the Little Ice Age hung distinct over the Pearl River. Soldiers exchanged their tropical uniforms for thicker spring-and-autumn long-sleeved sailor dress. Five Special Service Boat squadrons and a Bombardment Boat squadron steamed upstream, escorted by a swarm of sampans and long-dragons.
The Great Whale lumbered at the rear of the formation, her dazzling array of equipment and constant billowing of black smoke making her impossible to miss. Locals on both banks whispered that she was an Australian "monster."
The Fubo Army had established considerable "prestige" in the Pearl River Delta. The common people understood that the Australians maintained strict discipline and never harassed civilians; obeying Australian orders meant safety for life and property—and might even change one's fate for the better.
As the fleet moved upstream in force, savvy boat owners followed in an assortment of vessels loaded with food, fruits, and melons likely to interest the Australians. Many idle sons of wealthy families, knowing the Australians weren't Robin Hood-style bandits who killed the rich indiscriminately, boldly hired boats to follow and watch the spectacle. The shelling of Humen had been embellished and retold throughout the region, and many wished to witness the cannon fire with their own eyes.
Everyone assumed the Australians were heading for Wuchong, where government troops had recently massed, erected forts, and transported numerous Red Barbarian Cannons.
"There's going to be a tremendous battle," the idle observers speculated, eating, drinking, and embracing women on their hired boats as they trailed the fleet, eagerly anticipating a thunderous, magnificent artillery duel.
Xu Tingfa, commanding the garrison at Wuchong, received reports of heavy black smoke on the river. He quickly donned his armor and led his personal guards to the watchtower.
Far downriver, dozens of columns of black smoke billowed skyward. More than twenty large ships and countless smaller craft packed the waterway, heading directly for Wuchong. The sight reminded him viscerally of Humen.
Wuchong's defenses had been considerably strengthened in the month since the Battle of Humen. Government forces had densely deployed ten hastily constructed batteries—some of earth and stone, others of sandbags—mounting eighty-four Red Barbarian Cannons and one hundred sixty Folangji guns. They had scraped together nearly every Red Barbarian Cannon in Guangdong, even diverting pieces originally intended for Fujian, Shandong, and the capital.
Li Fengjie had dispatched three thousand troops here, two thousand of whom were water-braves. The positions were so crowded there was barely standing room. Twenty-four naval war-junks also stood ready—half of them commandeered salt ships and rice boats.
Yet the commander Xu Tingfa did not believe Wuchong could be held. Not unless the river stakes and iron chains managed to stop the bandit ships outright.
To encourage—or supervise—the reportedly terrified generals, Li Fengjie had originally intended to send the Guangzhou Military Defense Circuit Intendant to Wuchong to oversee the battle. But Nantou City in Dongguan, where the Intendant was stationed, had been blockaded by the Australians, and no messages could reach him. Li Fengjie was forced to send Left Administration Commissioner Chen Yingyuan instead.
Arriving at Wuchong, Chen Yingyuan immediately summoned Xu Tingfa. Finding the general passive and seemingly inclined toward surrendering, the Commissioner kicked him aside and personally took charge of Wuchong's war preparations.
Wuchong guarded the outer mouth of Huangpu Port, named after the Wuchong River in Huangpu. At the confluence of the Wuchong and Pearl Rivers lay an island called Mayongwei. The main defensive positions had been established here.
Since Mayongwei bore the brunt of the expected attack, its fortifications were relatively strong. Chen Yingyuan personally supervised Nanhai and Panyu counties as they conscripted civilian labor en masse, constructing timber-and-earth ramparts on the island's southern side. The high, thick walls featured forty-four gun ports mounting forty-four Red Barbarian Cannons.
Three rows of stakes blocked the channel, and an iron chain stretched across the river. The chain was anchored by wooden rafts, and a commandeered sand-boat had been chained to it, mounting ten large Folangji guns. This vessel's purpose—beyond stabilizing the chain against the current—was to prevent the enemy from sending fire ships to burn through the barrier. Every tactic Chen Yingyuan had read in books for breaking iron chains involved fire, so he had prepared specific countermeasures.
Hearing that bandit cannon fire was fierce and long-ranged, he ordered all new gun positions pushed forward; some were built directly onto the mudflats. And having learned from officers that the Australians often used small boats to land and flank or attack forts from the rear—rendering heavy guns useless—he ordered extensive deployments of bamboo spikes, caltrops, and chevaux-de-frise around the batteries. Each position received an additional hundred combat soldiers, ready to engage landing parties. To protect soldiers from the Australians' superior firepower, he ordered trenches dug along the shore where men could hide, waiting until the enemy landed before leaping out for close combat.
For reasons unclear even to himself, Chen Yingyuan possessed inexplicable confidence in the government troops' hand-to-hand fighting ability. Since the Australians were strong with firearms, their melee skills must surely be mediocre. They would probably collapse at the sight of government blades. His entire tactical conception rested on keeping soldiers alive through the bombardment—at least until the Australians reached the trench edges.
Xu Tingfa was extremely respectful to the Commissioner, obeying every instruction. He responded to inquiries with "I follow your lead entirely," "Your Excellency is brilliant," and "This general has read few books and knows little of strategy."
As a minor Maritime Defense General, his status was incomparable to that of the Guangdong Left Administration Commissioner. Insisting on his own views would only invite trouble. However, he strongly disapproved of Chen's arrangements.
In his view, unless thick bunkers were constructed from solid stone, these timber-and-earth ramparts—serving as mere walls facing the river—were useless. The Australians' naval guns fired shells that could not be stopped; even the large bombs lobbed by the Australian "Thunder-Strike Boats" would blast gunners behind such walls to pieces. Surviving such a bombardment would be pure luck; returning fire was pure fantasy.
As for pushing gun positions forward—it was absurd. Could the enemy not simply retreat if you advanced? Furthermore, the tides would erode these forward positions; given time, the forts would crumble before the Australians even opened fire.
While observing the approaching enemy, Xu Tingfa noticed Commissioner Chen leading his personal guards and officers across the pontoon bridge over the Wuchong River onto Mayongwei. The man apparently intended to supervise the battle personally from the front line.
Xu Tingfa dared not delay. He descended the watchtower and led his own guards onto the island.
Chen Yingyuan wore his third-rank official robes, gauze cap, and cloak, with a sword at his waist. Surrounded by his guards, he climbed to the highest point of the Mayongwei fortifications and stood surveying the horizon with a majestic air.
"This is the gateway to Guangzhou! The key to the Ram City! Officers and men, today we must unite as one to destroy these contemptible bandits!" His high-pitched voice carried across the ramparts.
Xu Tingfa hurried forward, inviting the Commissioner to supervise from the north bank instead.
"General, what words are these?" Chen Yingyuan appeared impassioned. "Ordered by the Governor to supervise the battle here, with the safety of the Provincial Capital at stake—how dare this humble scholar harbor thoughts of cowardice?"
Xu Tingfa cursed silently. If this Left Commissioner panicked and died here, the responsibility would fall squarely on his head. He quietly instructed a confidant to coordinate with Chen's guard commander: at the slightest sign of danger, rush the Commissioner across the bridge to safety. To secure the escape route, Xu Tingfa had his own guards take control of the pontoon bridge.
On November 1, 1630, escorted by Li Guangfa's 13th Squadron, the survey ship Haitian arrived as the vanguard at the Wuchong fortifications—thirty kilometers from Guangzhou.
Protected by Special Service Boats, the Haitian approached Wuchong first to sound the depths. The moment she entered cannon range, Chen Yingyuan ordered fire. Smoke erupted from Mayongwei Island as every gun—regardless of direction or effective range—opened up. Various projectiles trailed smoke toward the Haitian. Most fell far short; only a few splashed near the hull.
The Haitian turned and withdrew beyond range. She had obtained sufficient depth data and determined the island artillery's reach and effectiveness.
Minutes later, this intelligence was signaled to every squadron. Chen Haiyang ordered the 13th Squadron to lead the approach and bombard Mayongwei.
Four cannon squadrons advanced in column formation, closing to five hundred meters under heavy incoming fire before executing their turns.
Although the government's Red Barbarian Cannons had a maximum range of roughly a thousand paces, being mounted behind thick timber-and-earth walls with narrow firing ports severely limited their traverse and elevation. They could only fire at fixed angles. Though the continuous barrage looked spectacular, shells rarely came near the Special Service Boats.
The 13th Squadron completed its turn under fire and opened up with solid shot and incendiary shells from five hundred meters. The subsequent squadrons followed suit.
A single round of concentrated fire from four squadrons riddled the Mayongwei fortifications. Ramparts collapsed in places. Most guns fell silent. Regardless of their officers' shouts, the soldiers manning the interception positions began to flee. The water-braves who had been transferred to defend the island fled even faster—temporary workers possessed weaker will than regulars, and they ran the moment the guns started.
The Fubo Army employed standard tactics: after cannon-equipped warships neutralized the primary threats, Bombardment Boat squadrons moved in to project large-caliber explosive shells.
From four hundred meters, they bombarded Mayongwei with 280mm mortars. The violent explosions swallowed the fortifications like great crashing waves. After a few salvos, most of Wuchong Fort lay in ruins, the shoreline deserted.
Sampans and Small Fa boats carrying Marines began landing on the southern beach.
Government soldiers and water-braves hiding in trenches—having suffered relatively few casualties during the bombardment—suddenly leaped from cover with war cries and charged the Marines. But Commissioner Chen Yingyuan's faith in superior government melee skills proved utterly baseless. Victory in bayonet fighting belonged to the disciplined, organized, and better-trained force.
In five minutes of close combat, approximately fifty government troops fell to Marine bayonets. Only two Marines died—felled by surprise arrows and spears from concealed positions.
With the southern shore lost, the remaining heavy guns became useless. Only a handful of combat soldiers continued resisting from scattered trenches.
Simultaneous with the frontal assault, another company landed on the north bank via sampans and Small Fa boats.
Chen Yingyuan had rushed three sandbag batteries to this position days earlier, deploying hundreds of water-braves to cover the flank.
Special Service Boats followed the landing force, ready to "wash the ground" with cannon fire. Typewriters on Small Fa boats stood prepared as well.
Then, suddenly, a stiff southeast wind whipped the water into waves, raising the river level. The three batteries—built too close to the waterline—were instantly flooded. Gunpowder stores were soaked. The water-braves and gunners lost their last shred of courage and scattered without firing a single shot.
Seeing the north bank fortifications fall, Xu Tingfa understood that if he didn't run now, he would be trapped on the island.
"Escort His Excellency away immediately!" he bellowed.
Chen Yingyuan's guards swarmed the Commissioner, forced him onto a horse, and Xu Tingfa led his own men to clear a path. Ignoring everything else, they fought their way across the pontoon bridge to safety.
With the flank protection shattered, Wuchong Fort's exposed rear was defended only by bamboo spikes and abatis. Marines dragged two twelve-pounder mountain howitzers from the sampans and bombarded the fort from behind.
The remaining defenders collapsed utterly.
Marines flooded onto the island. The several hundred remaining government troops routed, suffering devastating casualties under crossfire from cannons, rifles, and bayonets. Some retreated fighting toward the Wuchong River.
The river—ten meters wide—had a pontoon bridge to the north bank. After Xu Tingfa and Chen Yingyuan crossed, the hundreds of soldiers guarding it scattered. Marines who had landed on the north bank seized the bridgehead and poured dense volleys into the soldiers and water-braves trying to cross.
Bodies piled up on the bridge.
Trapped between two forces, the remaining government troops were annihilated in a pincer attack. Two hundred sixteen killed, two hundred captured.
With Mayongwei Island fallen, the entire Wuchong defense system collapsed.
Defenders on other positions, forts, and ships disintegrated and fled without waiting to be attacked. Marines occupied fortifications and camps as if conducting a peaceful takeover.
A squad boarded the deserted sand-boat chained to the barrier and dismantled the cross-river iron chain. The massive links represented a valuable prize—several tons of iron.
(End of Chapter)