Chapter 88: The Artillery Duel

The No. 6 cannoneer, standing by the ammunition crate, immediately flipped open the lid. He scanned a chart pasted inside for the number he needed and shouted, “Elevation, four degrees, forty minutes!”

The No. 3 cannoneer, positioned at the rear of the gun, immediately turned the hand crank to adjust the cannon to the correct angle. The new gun carriage developed by the mechanical department not only allowed for traversing but also had an improved elevation system. With the angle indicator mounted directly on the breech, the No. 3 cannoneer could quickly adjust it by turning the handle, reducing the workload for the No. 4 and No. 1 cannoneers. Meanwhile, the No. 6 cannoneer took a round from the ammo box and handed it to the waiting No. 5. The ammunition was an old-style fixed round: a spherical shot bundled with a powder charge wrapped in cloth. The No. 5 cannoneer placed the round in a wicker basket and carried it to the No. 1 cannoneer for inspection.

“Ammunition correct! Load!”

The No. 2 cannoneer took the round, powder-charge first, and inserted it into the muzzle. The No. 3 cannoneer, holding the rammer, immediately pushed it into the barrel, seating the round at the bottom of the bore. The No. 4 cannoneer, on the left side of the breech, inserted a long priming wire through the touch-hole to pierce the powder bag. He then took a friction primer, hooked its lanyard to the pull-ring, and inserted it into the touch-hole.

“Ready!”

This series of complex, dazzling movements took only a few dozen seconds. A well-drilled M1857 gun crew could achieve a rate of four rounds per minute at rapid fire, though the gun would quickly overheat and become inoperable. For now, the artillerymen on the earthen rampart maintained a sustained rate of one round per minute.

“Fire!”

The No. 4 cannoneer immediately yanked the lanyard. With a deafening roar and a long jet of flame, the entire cannon and the crew around it were engulfed in a huge cloud of white smoke. The massive recoil sent the gun jolting backward.

“The M1857, cheap and plentiful,” Lin Shenhe muttered to himself. He was standing next to Zhang Bolin, watching through his telescope. He claimed to be on-site to inspect the performance of the equipment and the training of the artillerymen, but in reality, he was here for the show and to see what new gadgets he could come up with.

The destructive effect of the solid shot was very satisfactory, but against such a surging tide of men, it seemed insufficient to force the enemy to rout. The two Ming army columns were still charging towards the main camp, shouting their war cries.

“Don’t rush,” Lin Shenhe said, feigning calmness. “Based on experience from the American Civil War, infantry needs to take a dose of canister at 100 meters before they’ll break…”

“Boss, this is the Ming army, not the Union or Confederate army,” said Zhang Bolin, who regarded Lin Shenhe as the ultimate expert since he had taught all the muzzle-loader tactics. “Shouldn’t a medieval army like the Ming collapse pretty quickly?”

“I’m not the one who said the Ming army would collapse at the first cannon shot,” Lin Shenhe shrugged. “Only the Qing army could manage to have their entire force collapse just from being shelled.”

In his observation, the density of the bombardment was a bit low relative to the incoming horde. This rate of fire would have been considered merely average during the Civil War era.

“Quick! Pull!” the soldiers of the Firearms Battalion roared, constantly whipping the conscripted laborers and draft animals. One by one, the Hongyi cannons were dragged towards the gun positions amidst curses, groans, wails, and the frightened cries of the animals. The previous night, these cannons had been set up as defensive weapons behind the trenches of their own camp. However, since the cannons were a good four li away from the rebels’ camp, their shots couldn’t reach. Li Modao had organized men to drag the cannons closer before opening fire.

But the movement of troops in front had blocked the advance of the Firearms Battalion. The road only cleared when the Chaozhou soldiers began their attack. Li Baidao didn’t dare hesitate and quickly urged his men to push the cannons forward.

“The enemy is moving artillery,” came the message from the observation post.

“Where?” Ying Yu pushed his cap back and raised his telescope. “I see them!” he shouted, then picked up the field telephone. “Bolin, the government troops to your right front are moving Hongyi cannons! Give them a volley!”

“Load solid shot! Target distance, 1320 meters!” Zhang Bolin took command himself, measuring the range with his telescope. “Company, rapid fire!”

A few minutes later, the artillery company under Zhang Bolin’s command opened fire on the Hongyi cannons of the Firearms Battalion, which were still on the move.

Solid shot from the 12-pounder Napoleons rained down on the Firearms Battalion. The first volley landed among the infantry formations not far from the battalion, causing a wave of confusion. Li Modao watched in horror as the cannonballs, trailing smoke, flew over the charging infantry ahead and came straight for them!

“Dammit!” The thought had barely crossed his mind when the second volley crashed down on his unit.

A cannonball landed nearby, then bounced towards the column. It tore a cow in two, and the bloody projectile leaped up again, knocking down several laborers and leaving a mess of mangled limbs and flesh. Several more rounds landed in the column. The entire Firearms Battalion erupted into chaos with men shouting and animals screaming. Unbridled horses and terrified oxen stampeded through the ranks, trampling the wounded soldiers underfoot. Cannons overturned. One gun carriage was hit directly; the barrel was thrown skyward before crashing down, smashing the skulls of a few unlucky men. The sturdy, heavy carriage disintegrated from just a glancing blow from a cannonball.

Li Modao watched as his most powerful Hongyi cannons were either overturned or had their carriages destroyed, leaving them stuck in the mud and immobile. Not only were his draft animals dead or injured, but the terrified oxen, their eyes bloodshot, were running wild, crashing into the nearby infantry and throwing their formations into disarray. Men were cursing in various dialects.

Fortunately, the rapid fire from the 12-pounders didn’t last long, and Li Baidao managed to survive. His most valuable and powerful Hongyi cannons were in ruins. Some were broken in two, others had cracked barrels, and still others had their carriages wrecked, the guns now deeply embedded in the mud. It would take a massive effort to dig them out.

Li Modao now understood that the enemy’s artillery far out-ranged his own. He could no longer entertain the idea of pushing his guns closer to fire—any further forward and they probably wouldn’t even be able to set them up.

He gathered his remaining men and retreated, preparing to use his two 4,000-jin cannons, which could fire 15-jin projectiles. These two Hongyi cannons had a maximum range of three li, but hitting anything at that distance was another matter entirely.

“The Ming army is firing!” the observer shouted over the walkie-talkie. Startled, Zhang Bolin instinctively ducked. Two black shapes tore through the smoke, flying towards them, but both shots, one after the other, fell far short of the trench, only kicking up clouds of dirt. Another two shots followed. One bounced a few times on the ground before finally rolling into the trench.

Ying Yu called the observation post on his walkie-talkie: “Find the enemy gun positions!”

The location of the Firearms Battalion’s cannons was quickly identified. Rangefinding showed they were firing from about 2100 meters away.

“From that far, the Hongyi cannons can’t reach,” said Lin Shenhe.

As if to prove his point, the two Hongyi cannons fired several more shots, but not a single one reached the earthen rampart. The best they managed was a ball that bounced and rolled into the trench.

Li Modao watched his cannonballs fall short without even touching the enemy’s earthworks and grew frantic. “More powder!” he yelled.

The gunners had already loaded the maximum amount of powder according to the gunner’s quadrant. Hearing the order to add more, they turned pale with fear. Bursting cannons were a common occurrence in the armies of the time, and if a cannon exploded, any gunner nearby who wasn’t killed instantly was unlikely to survive.

“More powder!” Li Modao drew his sword and slashed it through the air. “Disobey and you will be executed!”

Under the threat of beheading, the gunners added a third more powder. To show he wasn’t afraid of the overcharged load, Li Modao lit the fuse himself.

The 4,000-jin Hongyi cannon erupted with a tremendous roar. The heavy carriage practically leaped backward, killing two soldiers who couldn’t get out of the way in time, leaving them vomiting blood as they collapsed.

This shot finally flew the nearly two-kilometer distance and struck one of the bastions of the fortress. But by then, its trajectory was so low that it just slammed into the earthen wall of the bastion, knocking off a chunk of dirt.

“Enemy artillery position…” Through the thick gunpowder smoke, the observer finally spotted the puff of smoke from Li Modao’s Hongyi cannon.

“Take out the enemy gun position!” Ying Yu ordered. “I don’t want their guns causing any interference.”

But even Lin Shenhe couldn’t guarantee an immediate hit on the two isolated gun positions with an M1857 at 2000 meters. They fired several rounds, but all were wide of the mark. While they were busy aiming and calculating, a loud explosion suddenly came from the direction of the Firearms Battalion’s position, and a column of thick smoke shot into the sky.

“Unknown explosion at the enemy gun position!” the observer reported.

“Did their powder magazine blow up?” Zhang Bolin quickly raised his telescope.

Lin Shenhe shook his head. “A magazine explosion would be much more violent. I think a cannon burst.”

His guess was correct. After firing twice with the “extra strong charge,” one of the cannons had burst. The shockwave and shrapnel instantly killed more than a dozen men nearby. Li Modao was thrown more than ten meters by the blast, surviving only because his fall was broken by a dead horse.

Li Modao propped himself up, his head spinning and ears ringing. He shook his head hard and saw that the surrounding soldiers had all fled, abandoning even the intact Hongyi cannon. His personal guards ran over to help him up. Li Modao wanted to continue loading and firing, but he saw that the barrel of the remaining cannon already had visible cracks. Another shot would surely be his last. He was so furious he swung his sword wildly in the air.

The whistling sound of the rebels’ cannonballs filled the air again. A guard quickly snatched the sword from his hand, saying, “Commander, take cover! The rebels are firing again.” The others helped him up and dragged him to the rear.

“The enemy artillery position is finished,” Zhang Bolin reported to Ying Yu over the phone.

“Excellent. Quickly organize artillery fire to stop their infantry!”

The fire from the 12-pounder cannons was intense, but it didn’t cause the enemy to waver quickly. Although each cannonball created devastating carnage upon impact, causing some soldiers to hesitate and fall back, they were quickly driven forward again by their officers. The main body of the government army had already advanced to within five hundred meters of the earthen rampart. The Fubo Army’s howitzers joined the chorus of thunder, their exploding shells constantly landing among the ranks. Although the casualties were moderate, the fact that the shells could explode on impact caused great alarm among the government troops.

When they finally closed to about three hundred meters from the fortress wall under the artillery barrage, the Fubo Army infantry officers on the wall simultaneously raised their sabers.

“Sights at 300 meters—Fire!”

Hundreds of Minié rifles cracked, and a dense volley of bullets swept through the front ranks. Hundreds of men were hit and fell instantly. This sudden blow finally broke the already shaken infantry. The road to the enemy seemed impossibly long and dangerous. Tong Yizhen cut down several fleeing soldiers but couldn’t stop the tide of retreating men. He was shouting for his officers to hold the line and prevent a rout when a bullet struck his horse, throwing him to the ground. His personal guards rushed to help him up. Adjutant-General Tong immediately mounted a second horse, but just then, the armor of his standard-bearer exploded before his eyes. The standard-bearer fell from his horse without a sound.

This terrified him. The rebels were firing with some unseen weapon. He knew he was in extreme danger and no longer insisted on continuing the attack, allowing his guards and retainers to escort him to the rear. With the commander retreating, the soldiers fled even faster. When the smoke cleared, the field was littered with flags, armor, and corpses.

The soldiers on the earthen rampart erupted in a heartfelt cheer. Many had prepared for a fight to the death and were surprised to see the government troops retreat so quickly. Pride, contempt, and a sense of superiority filled their hearts. Many waved their weapons, cheering their first victory.

He Rubin watched as his four thousand soldiers were routed by the rebels’ artillery fire before they even got close to the earthen rampart. The Firearms Battalion, which he had hoped would be a match for the rebels’ cannons, had been routed before it could even set up its guns. His face darkened completely. How could he fight a war like this? They didn’t even get a chance for close-quarters combat! He could already see that the rebels’ cannons fired farther, more accurately, and much faster than his Hongyi cannons. Compared to the Hongyi cannons, which could only fire once in a long while, the cannons on the rebels’ rampart were firing almost nonstop, spewing smoke and fire, and raining shells down on his soldiers’ heads.

“Your Excellency!” a guard hurried over and knelt. “Adjutant-General Zhao of Leilian has been killed in action!”

“What!” He Rubin was shocked. He quickly raised his telescope toward the direction of Zhao Qiansi’s attack. Those two thousand men were in full retreat.

A general dead before even engaging the enemy! He quickly asked, “How did General Zhao die?”

“Your Excellency, he was hit by a musket ball…”

“Nonsense!” He Rubin could no longer contain his alarm. “I saw it clearly myself, his banner was a full six or seven hundred paces from the wall! How could he be hit by a musket?”

The guard, not understanding why his commander was so concerned with the specific cause of death, quickly reported, “I dare not lie, sir. General Zhao’s body has been recovered and is in the camp. It was indeed a musket wound.”

“Get out!” he roared, then took a deep breath and ordered loudly, “Beat the drums!”

At the sound of the drums, a new wave of fresh troops marched out from the camp. These were the men of the Mobile Training Corps, as well as the Provincial and Governor’s standards. They were considered the elite of this expeditionary force. Of course, he still had his own garrison troops and five hundred household retainers, but those were his personal assets, not to be used until the most critical moment.

He summoned the commanders of the three battalions and gave them their instructions.

“You’ve all seen it,” he said, his face grim. “The rebels’ cannons are formidable. They shoot far and accurately. Li Modao’s Firearms Battalion was crippled before they even fired a shot—we can’t rely on them. When you form up, remember to keep your formations loose. Keep the companies separated. Don’t crowd together and charge like Generals Tong and Zhao did!”

“We understand, sir!”

He Rubin said slowly, “The first general whose troops scale the rampart will receive the highest merit!”

He Ming was very surprised to see the government troops break and run before they even reached the main fortress. He had been keeping a silent count; the busiest cannon on the rampart had fired just over fifty rounds. The artillery fire was far from dense, yet four or five thousand men had retreated. Even for a medieval army… he recalled that the Zulus had fought the British until the fields were littered with bodies before they broke. It seemed the Ming army’s fighting spirit was low. However, he had heard from the Grand Library’s historical research group that there was a vast difference between elite Ming troops and regular units.

“The attack was launched by the Adjutant-Generals of Leilian and Chaozhou,” Dongmen Chuiyu reported, holding the latest summary from the observation posts,

“According to our observers, at least 31 Ming officers of qianzong rank or higher participated in the attack. We have confirmed 5 kills and 7 probable kills. According to sniper reports, Adjutant-General Zhao Qiansi of Leilian was hit by a sniper during the battle. His status is currently unknown.”

Hearing that a sniper had hit a high-ranking adjutant-general, He Ming nodded. The power of snipers was not to be underestimated. After all, even the most powerful artillery couldn’t achieve that level of precision.

“Artillery fired a total of 493 rounds: 371 solid shot and 122 high-explosive. They eliminated eleven Hongyi cannons.”

“Our casualties and equipment losses.”

“Five lightly wounded. No deaths, no losses.”