Chapter 99: The Barney Temple

Under the morning light, the officers and soldiers of the Xiliu Infantry Regiment watched vigilantly ahead. Liu Yu frequently used field telephones to inquire about the situation at the forward observation posts.
To avoid being detected by the enemy, the Xiliu Infantry Regiment was now about two and a half kilometers away from the main battlefield near Zhiqiao. All the officers were eager for the sound of gunfire to ring out.
“Bang!” A faint gunshot was heard, followed by simultaneous ringing from several telephones: “The right battalion has engaged in combat!”
“Form battle formations! Form battle formations!”
After five years of hard work, this was the moment they had been waiting for. It took the officers just a minute to get the troops moving forward. The communication unit immediately laid out field telephone lines behind the troops, while medics and stretcher bearers were ready to treat any wounded soldiers. There were also 30,000 rounds of ammunition ready to replenish losses.
“The entire army, advance toward the Guandi Temple!”
Captain Santi’s furious shout inspired the soldiers of the vanguard unit. Ignoring the flying shrapnel, they charged at Xiayanjue Village with bayonets, supported by artillery fire.
The right battalion suffered heavy losses in Xiayanjue Village. Under the attack of the Gras 1878-style rifles, they gradually became no match. What hurt them even more was that their battalion commander was wounded.
Yang Zhenen had been hit in both legs and could no longer get up. Several of his bodyguards surrounded him and said, “Commander, let’s retreat!”
Another shell hit Xiayanjue Village. Yang Zhenen shook his head, grabbed the revolver given to him by Liu Yu, and shouted, “Hold on for five more minutes! The front battalion has reached Zhongcun!”
The enemy forces grew stronger. This weakest infantry battalion of the Black Flag Army was fighting like against waves. Soon, someone shouted, “Sentinel He Chengwen has died in battle!”
Casualties on both sides continued to mount. Yang Zhenen could see the enemy just a dozen steps away. He raised his revolver and fired. Captain Santi also clearly saw a Black Flag Army commander leading elite troops in a desperate attempt to resist. He shouted, “Eliminate the leader of these barbarians!”
Both sides could clearly see each other’s expressions. They were now within range of pistol shots. Yang Zhenen shouted, “You foreign dogs, die!”
He fired three shots in a row, but a merciless bullet hit his right wrist, causing blood to gush out. Enduring the pain, he switched the revolver to his left hand. He saw a French officer shouting in front of him and pressed the trigger forcefully.
“Bang!”
He didn’t realize it was Captain Santi, the commander of the vanguard unit. Almost at the same time as firing that shot, another bullet hit his chest, sending him flying backward.
“Battalion commander!”
“Captain!”
Griefful cries were uttered almost simultaneously by both sides. Two frontline commanders died almost at the same time, driving both sides into a state of frenzy. But after that frenzy, the right battalion could no longer hold on.
They retreated, carrying the bodies of the dead and the wounded. Even as they retreated, they maintained a relatively intact formation.
The French forces gained a slight advantage on the battlefield. Behind Xiayanjue Village lay Zhongcun, held by the front battalion. The French main force began to launch a fierce attack on Huang Shouzhong’s troops.

Li Weiyeh believed he already had victory in his hands. Raising his staff, he ordered, “The artillery, cross the river!” Not only all three of Li Weiyeh’s cannons crossed the river but also the main force. Only about forty indigenous infantrymen and several wounded soldiers groaning on the ground remained on this side of the river, forming a makeshift defensive position near the Bani Temple.

“Cross the river!” The artillerymen pushed forward directly across the paper bridges. Before they even reached Xi’anjue Village, Huang Shouzhong had already spotted this major target through his telescope. “Remingtons, Sniders, fire at the high ground near Xi’anjue Village!”

The area was packed with soldiers, all ready to advance further, but soon a heavy barrage of bullets ensued. The vanguard unleashed intense fire, killing and wounding over a dozen people, including Colonel Li Weiyeh himself.

At that moment, the troops were at a loss. Major Wei stepped forward to take command, but Li Weiyeh, with his shoulder covered in blood, forcefully raised his staff. “It’s just one bullet! Soldiers, show these barbarians our strength! Form up—let the artillery support our attack from the riverbank! Frenchmen, believers of God, follow me!”

All the French soldiers, regardless of skin color, cheered at Li Weiyeh’s bravery. They followed him in a full-scale attack on Zhongcun.

Major Wei glanced back. There were no reserves on the other side of the bridge—only a few French soldiers and some indigenous troops. He suggested, “Near the Bani Temple, we need to have some troops there!”

“Major!” Li Weiyeh might not be a competent commander, but as an elder, he valued these young men greatly. “No, my marshal, go!”

“Send some troops to the Bani Temple. Adjutant, take a group there—half a platoon and twenty indigenous infantrymen. You must hold the Bani Temple; it’s our retreat route.”

Li Weiyeh’s right hand had little strength left, but he still clutched his staff with remarkable perseverance, personally directing the battle against Zhongcun.

Yet he soon faced difficulties, as did the entire French force. This was Vietnam—filled with paddy fields, riverbanks, and countless bamboo forests that blocked visibility. The Black Flag Army was skilled at building fortifications. Using the dense forests, they hid along the roads and fired fiercely at the French troops.

The vanguard at Zhongcun consisted of a full thousand soldiers, more than the total French force. Their combat strength and firepower far surpassed those of the right wing. Even just a few Sniders had already caused the French heavy losses, while here there were numerous Remingtons and Sniders.

The metallic bullets fired from these breech-loading rifles, mixed with lead bullets, caused fatal casualties. The retreating right wing continued to fight, using local cannons to bombard the French columns. The scattered lead bullets also contained deadly metal projectiles. Meanwhile, Wu Fengdian’s vanguard circled around from the flank.

The French forces encountered such fierce resistance that Li Weiye found it nearly impossible to keep track of the fighting between the two sides. The soldiers shouted loudly, “They have many machine guns!”
“Many machine guns! We need artillery! Request artillery support!”
“Artillery! Support!”
Their shouts could be heard clearly from a distance, and Li Weiye heard them distinctly: “Artillery! Fire at full speed!”
He was not used to such brutal warfare. After all, in the capture of Nanning, where 5,000 Vietnamese soldiers and 98 cannons were taken, only five French soldiers were injured. Moreover, many of Nanning’s cannons were French-made. Yet here were just a bunch of barbarians.
Soldiers kept dying from bullets in the nearby villages and rice fields, and cries of pain from their own men could be heard constantly. But the battle showed no sign of stopping—the enemy continued to resist fiercely and even launched attacks.
This was not the romantic war Li Weiye had imagined.
“Colonel, Captain Santi has been killed by a bullet!”
“Captain Mai Shang has been seriously injured by a bullet!”
Dead bodies in dark blue uniforms with red breeches were everywhere, along with groaning wounded soldiers.
His arm still throbbed painfully. He shouted, “Order the five-barreled machine guns to get ready…”
Almost as soon as he spoke those words, Major Wei Yi suddenly shouted loudly, “The enemy! It’s barbarians!”
The battle had reached a critical stage. Now, the unit led by Wu Fengdian was near Li Weiye’s command post.
“Fire!”
“Fire!”
Wu Fengdian circled around from the flank only to find an unexpected big catch: “Many French officers! Fire!”
The enemy was so obvious—he immediately spotted several colonel-level and lieutenant-level officers: “Eliminate them!”
A fierce gunfight broke out immediately, with people falling dead every moment. At this moment, Li Weiye took on the responsibilities of an infantry commander: “Shrapnel! Shrapnel!”
The artillery fired two shells almost immediately, but they only covered the retreat of the command post. By the time they retreated, nearly half of the command post’s personnel were gone.
“My Marshal!” Wei Yi, the second-in-command, had been killed by a bullet at the start of the battle. His body was now cold: “I need you to conquer Shanxi and Beining City!”
But Major Wei was too weak to answer Li Weiye’s question. In front of Li Weiye, the situation was even more intense. His six to seven hundred troops were simultaneously under fierce attack from three battalions of the Black Flag Army. In particular, the landing company sent to attack Nakamura not only failed to capture Nakamura but also got surrounded.
“Captain Maroll! Order the Victory Landing Company to retreat. We’ll organize another attack.”
As the assistant commander, Captain Maroll remained clear-headed: “Okay! I’ll order the landing company to retreat immediately. I suggest placing Hotchkiss guns on the embankment east of the bridge to cover the retreat!”
“Good, leave it to you!”
Captain Maroll immediately took action: “Captain Dubok, you organize the landing company’s retreat right away. I’ll go arrange the Hotchkiss guns.”

Unlike Li Weiyeh, the assistant commander was a competent military professional. In almost a minute, he organized a first line force consisting of a company commander, several French soldiers, and over twenty indigenous infantrymen. Yet he faced even greater problems: “Assistant gunner! Assistant gunner!” During the recent attack, the assistant artilleryman had disappeared, and the indigenous infantrymen had no idea how to operate the machine guns; they could only push them forward, turning France’s most powerful artillery into a burden. Chaos reigned everywhere, and Captain Marol felt a profound sense of powerlessness. Defeat seemed inevitable, but every French soldier would reorganize their forces to secure the next victory—Captain Marol realized this clearly in the next moment. Without even consulting Li Weiyeh, he made his decision: “Retreat is unavoidable. Order the signalmen to ride and summon the troops left behind to come to our aid!” He glanced back and ordered loudly, “Drop the Hazards guns!” “Follow me forward! All French officers and soldiers must obey my orders. Target: the Bani Temple!” A French lieutenant asked, “This requires authorization from Colonel Li Weiyeh!” In an instant, Marol drew his pistol, pointing it at the lieutenant’s head: “Lieutenant, this is my authorization!” “I obey the order!” The troops had already begun to retreat on their own. Captain Marol ordered the Hazards guns to cross the paper bridge directly. He saw the scene behind him—it was utterly chaotic. He had never seen such chaos before; he had only read about it in books, referring to Napoleon’s retreat in Russia. The three infantry battalions of the Black Flag Army numbered almost twice as many as the French forces, and they also had many advanced rapid-fire rifles. Their firepower was so intense that many soldiers cried out, “The enemy has many machine guns! Request artillery support!” In fact, they didn’t have a single machine gun, but such fierce firepower prevented the French from advancing an inch. They even began to launch counterattacks. Full of courage and high morale, they fought like ten men for one, attacking from various directions. By now, the French forces were in disarray—artillerymen separated from their guns, infantry hiding on both sides of the road to resist or simply abandoning the seriously wounded and retreating. He even witnessed a shocking scene: Li Weiyeh and several officers were personally pushing a 65-mm gun as they retreated, while the paper bridge was packed with people, making retreat nearly impossible. At that moment, Captain Marol made a clear judgment. “Everyone, load bayonets! Charge across the paper bridge and kill them all! Target: the Bani Temple!” Dozens of French soldiers, armed with gleaming bayonets, charged like fierce demons, breaking through any enemy who dared to stand in their way. Only after crossing the paper bridge and reaching the other side did the assistant commander breathe a sigh of relief. The other side was still filled with smoke from battles, but that wasn’t his concern. All he needed to do was take control of the Bani Temple, where there were already a hundred defenders. By securing that point, although the French retreat would suffer some losses, most of their forces should be preserved.

The fighting on the other side of the paper bridge was even more intense, with gunfire growing louder and louder. Captain Marol then ordered, “Infantry, keep moving with me toward Bani Temple!” On the other side, Wu Fengdian was also anxious. His troops were locked in combat with the French, but even the relatively disorganized French forces still possessed considerable combat strength. The French army of that era, shaped by the Franco-Prussian War, could be considered one of the best infantry forces in the world. They could be scattered, but after that, they would quickly regroup and fight again. Only after repeated defeats would their morale collapse. The three battalions holding the line fended off the French attacks relatively easily, but when launching their own attacks, though brave, they found it increasingly difficult to advance further. There were at least five hundred French soldiers on this side of the bridge. Although many of them were native infantry, everyone performed exceptionally well, launching counterattacks time and again. Li Weiyeh also took control of the landing company that had withdrawn from Nakamura and immediately opened fire on the Black Flag Army chasing them. Huang Shouzhong anxiously glanced at the paper bridge through his telescope. The French were continuously withdrawing from the bridge. Though some had thrown away their boots in the rice fields, they still carried their rifles, posing a serious threat. “When will the Xiliu Infantry Regiment arrive at Guandi Temple?” he asked anxiously. Such a large target—if not completely seized, he would be unwilling to accept it. “How many minutes have passed since now?” “About twenty-six minutes. Xiliu should arrive at Guandi Temple any moment!” Huang Shouzhong clenched his fist. “We must get there. We must wipe out all these foreigners.” He knew clearly that once Guandi Temple was taken and the paper bridge controlled, they could trap the French forces and annihilate them completely. Captain Marol also understood this well. He urged his infantry to speed up their march. “Go to Bani Temple! Set up a defense line there!” He left only a dozen native soldiers on the riverbank to form a simple defense line, while he led the bayoneted French forces toward Bani Temple. Bani Temple was only a hundred meters away from the paper bridge—half a minute would be enough to reach it and ensure the complete withdrawal of the troops. But Marol’s smile didn’t last even a second. He heard gunshots coming from the direction of Bani Temple, and then he saw a battle flag raised in the distance. On that flag was a black strange bird, two willow leaves, and several unfamiliar Chinese characters. That black bird was a raven—a bird of deception. At that moment, Captain Marol’s heart sank involuntarily. That black flag brought enough bad news. The first to reach Bani Temple wasn’t the Xiliu Battalion or the Hanhai Battalion, but Ye Chenglin’s Raven Battalion’s vanguard company. This veteran officer, who had been active in the Ten Continents for twenty years and was regarded as Huang Chongying’s right-hand man in the Yellow Flag Army, might sometimes lag behind the times, but an old soldier was like a treasure. Sometimes, Ye Chenglin was even wiser than the Xiliu Battalion. He had rehearsed dozens of times how to launch an attack on Guandi Temple as soon as possible. He had full trust in Liu Yu’s judgment and had even inspected the area near Guandi Temple six times in person.

Thus, for a straight-line distance of 2,500 meters, the actual marching distance exceeded 3,200 meters, yet he led the vanguard company there in just 24 minutes—a textbook example of efficient marching. The entire company was full of morale and in good physical condition, so when Ye Chenglin saw the Guandi Temple and the nearby small hills, he immediately ordered, “Vanguard company! Attack!” The entire force advanced using the terrain, without firing, while slightly behind, two 60-mm mortars were quickly prepared for firing. The only ones to open fire were two snipers, who immediately set up their guns and searched for targets on the Guandi Temple and the small hills. “Bang!” An indigenous infantryman became the first casualty of this battle, killed by a single shot to the head. Then came fierce fire from the defenders—about 20 French soldiers and 60 indigenous infantrymen were stationed at the Guandi Temple and the small hills. Most of the indigenous infantry were the best-quality Annamese troops, but facing an enemy nearly twice their number, they opened fire immediately. “Boom!” The 60-mm mortars fired their first shells, causing even greater devastation than the snipers. Two shells hit an almost completely exposed infantry position almost simultaneously, and countless shrapnel turned a small group of indigenous infantrymen into a sea of blood and tears. The 60-mm mortars continued to fire relentlessly. Although their rate of fire couldn’t compare to modern mortars, and their accuracy was poor, they could fire continuously—easily firing six shells in a minute, turning the entire position into a hail of bullets. The vanguard company of the Crow Camp also began firing, this time with Remington rifles. Though in small numbers, their firepower, combined with the artillery’s damage, caused significant casualties among the defenders. The defenders also fired desperately, but they feared those terrifying mortars, whose long, screeching sounds made everyone’s hearts race. Unlike ordinary cannons using black powder and brownish gunpowder, the 60-mm mortars didn’t require reloading and were lightweight and agile. Coupled with pre-constructed simple artillery positions, the enemy’s rifles couldn’t suppress them. The shells, filled with cotton powder and picric acid, were incredibly powerful—any hit would cause significant casualties. But what truly shattered the defenders was when the Xiliu Camp suddenly opened fire in full force. Using the terrain, they advanced 100 meters outside the Guandi Temple position. Although they lost 20 to 30 men, the defenders suffered even more casualties. And as expected, Ye Chenglin ordered, “Fire!” At that moment, Spencer began firing in synchronized bursts—“Bang! Bang! Bang!…” Within just a dozen seconds, the Xiliu Camp fired five or six hundred bullets and four mortar shells. The dense hail of bullets left no room for the enemy soldiers to hide, causing astonishing casualties. More than half of the defenders at the Bani Temple were killed or wounded, and several French officers were either dead or injured. Meanwhile, the attackers quickly replaced their ammunition tubes: “Crow Camp, capture the Guandi Temple! Order the mortar positions to move forward and prepare to bombard the paper bridge!”

The defenders were also fighting desperately. A French sergeant shouted, “French soldiers, indigenous soldiers, fight not for France, but for ourselves!” Even the wounded understood the importance of the Banii Temple; as long as they had a breath left, they wouldn’t leave the front lines. They opened fire in unison at the Crow Camp. The brief skirmish caused significant casualties on both sides, but Ye Chenglin’s core forces remained intact. Although the mortar positions were rapidly shifting, one more attack from them would allow him to capture the Guandi Temple. Suddenly, cheers arose from the defender’s positions. Ye Chenglin looked up and saw a French officer leading dozens of soldiers, including many Frenchmen, charging forward from behind amidst the shrapnel. It was the troops under Captain Marol, who loudly ordered, “Everyone, hold the Banii Temple with me!”