mtlumby2d Chapter 457 The Battle of Qiuyu Mountain (9)
Chapter 457 The Battle of Qiuyu Mountain (9)
After suffering heavy casualties of thousands, the refugee army finally formed a three-sided encirclement, surrounding the Qionghai army from the east, north, and south of Qiuyu Mountain and launching a general offensive.
Apart from the sporadic shelling by the battalion-level artillery companies on both sides, the regimental artillery battalion on the mountainside and the two artillery companies at the foot of the mountain have completely ceased operations. The battle has entered a firing squad mode; to be precise, it is an offensive and defensive mode of firearms troops versus melee weapon troops.
The sheer number of tens of thousands was terrifying. Although several thousand had died or been wounded, this was only a small fraction of the total. The refugees surged forward like a tide, wave after wave. Even at a distance of about a hundred meters, the volleys of Patriot rifle fire were quite lethal, but the refugees, already numb from the artillery bombardment, seemed less frightening than the indestructible solid iron balls and the dense hail of bullets, though these peanut-sized lead bullets were also relentlessly reaping lives. As the distance closed, the crowd grew denser, the initially deliberately loosely arranged ranks becoming increasingly compact. Those in front were practically being pushed forward by those behind, unable to even turn around to run.
Like the new recruits beside him, Zhu Jinhu, after firing two shots, fell into a cycle of tension and mistakes. Facing the ever-approaching, densely packed horde of refugees, he felt he could be pushed over and trampled to death at any moment. His anxiety intensified, and his hands and feet became unresponsive. He would either forget to bite open the cardboard casing while loading or forget to use a cleaning rod to tighten the bullets, resulting in only unusable rounds. Realizing his errors, and seeing the ferocious expressions of the refugees opposite him, he didn't calm down; instead, his tension intensified, and his movements became even more distorted.
As the new recruits made more and more mistakes, the firepower gradually thinned out. With this shift in power, the refugees, under less pressure, were able to advance at a significantly faster pace, and the distance between the two sides grew ever closer.
The platoon leader, not far from Zhu Jinhu, sensed the tension among his men. He had experienced the same thing during the defense of Bofu. Facing a charge of tens of thousands, the raw recruits couldn't possibly remain calm and composed like veterans, able to fire directly into the enemy's head. He estimated the distance; the frontline enemy was only a few dozen paces away. Given the recruits' current state, if they hastily reloaded and fired, they would completely panic once they were in close combat. He raised his rifle, pointed the bayonet forward, and roared, "All men, cease reloading, prepare for bayonet charges!"
Similar orders followed in other companies. The nature of warfare in the flintlock era meant that commanders could only focus on the big picture and delegate smaller tasks. When the battle entered the close-quarters combat phase, officers like Xu Yifan could no longer effectively command each company. They could only rely on lower-ranking officers like company commanders and platoon leaders. Therefore, whether to continue firing or directly engage in bayonet fighting in a localized area of the battlefield was decided directly by the company commander or even the platoon leader.
The quality and adaptability of these junior officers determine the overall combat effectiveness of an army and, to a certain extent, influence the success or failure of a battle. The reason the Qionghai Navy held officer training courses and established the current military academy is to cultivate professional junior officers. Without professional officers, even the strongest soldiers are just a disorganized mob. Napoleon once said that the squad leader is the father of the army; a group of qualified squad leaders, platoon leaders, and company commanders are far more important than a genius general.
Upon hearing the order, Zhu Jinhu stopped loading, gripped his rifle tightly, and assumed the "ready to fire" stance, just as he had practiced. The squad leader's explanation during bayonet training flashed through his mind: "The ready to fire is the preparatory action for bayonet fighting. Mastering this action ensures a tight defense, facilitates offense, and psychologically threatens the enemy. If you face the enemy and thrust the rifle forward with a 'whoosh,' immediately assuming the ready stance and glaring at them, it will instill fear in the enemy. Conversely, it will embolden the enemy. Therefore, in the 'ready to fire' stance, you must ensure the movement is correct and powerful, your spirit is high, and your momentum is imposing..."
Zhu Jinhu silently recited the key points of the movements, holding the gun with his left hand, moving his right hand to the buttstock and handguard, stepping forward with his left foot, his knees slightly bent, his upper body leaning forward slightly, and his weight evenly distributed between his feet. Because of his intense focus, once he got into position, the tension and fear he had felt earlier suddenly lessened considerably.
He glanced to both sides out of the corner of his eye. His comrades were all in the same position, and with their standard weapons, they were so neatly arranged that they looked like they had been cut from the same mold. Looking at the other side, the refugees not only had a variety of weapons, but their ranks were also disorganized and had no formation whatsoever. The confidence that had been suppressed by fear in his heart resurfaced: We are all carefully selected soldiers who have undergone rigorous training. We are well-fed and watered every day, and our bodies are toughened up. We don't have to do anything else. Our only task is to fight the enemy. Even the officers and soldiers don't have this level of training. How could we not be able to defeat these refugees who are struggling to survive and don't even have enough to eat every day?
As Zhu Jinhu thought this, his confidence grew stronger. Just a few months ago, he was like these emaciated refugees before him, his only thought each day being how to survive. When hungry, he would become fierce in the struggle for food with other starving people, but this was merely a burst of ferocity for survival. Against fully armed rebels, even the fiercest fighting was useless; he couldn't escape being slaughtered. These refugees were no different from him in Shandong. Even after following the likes of Gao Yingxiang and Zhang Xianzhong across thousands of miles from Shaanxi and Henan to Anhui, as peripheral cannon fodder, all they sought was to have enough to eat; the wealth plundered was irrelevant to them.
The distance between the two sides was getting closer and closer, thirty paces, twenty paces, ten paces... Zhu Jinhu could already see the beads of sweat as large as beans on the faces of the refugees and the bulging veins on their foreheads and necks. The long run and the fear of death in the face of artillery fire had brought their physical and mental strength to the brink of collapse. At this moment, the platoon leader shouted: "Kill!"
The rigorous training allowed the soldiers to temporarily forget their tension when they heard the command. They subconsciously used the force of their right foot and waist to push their guns forward with great force, their movements were uniform, and at the same time they shouted: "Kill!"
A flash of cold light, and countless bayonets plunged into the enemy's chest and abdomen. The running crowd came to a halt, like a flood encountering a reef, its path blocked.
Zhu Jinhu drew his bayonet. The fierce look in the eyes of a middle-aged refugee opposite him turned vacant, and then he knelt down helplessly, collapsing to the ground, blood gushing from his wound. Having taken down an opponent face-to-face, his confidence soared. He shouted to encourage himself, looking for his next opponent.