Chapter 106: The Fire Net

The Black Flag Army’s artillery had already begun their trial shots. After various types of cannons were positioned, they opened fire on the concession. Due to range limitations, almost all of them had to advance to within rifle range to launch attacks.

For this assault, artillery was essential—indeed, indispensable. After all, although the French fire had burned down a quarter of Hanoi, it had also achieved its purpose: the areas near the concession were scorched clean, with all obstacles completely destroyed.

Yet the soldiers of the Xiliu Battalion still used their entrenching tools to build simple individual shelters, and in some places, they constructed communication trenches. But everyone knew that in Vietnam, due to the extensive network of rivers, it was impossible to use traditional fortification tactics—digging just a meter deep often resulted in springs emerging.

At these two to three hundred meters distance, the infantry had to charge forward on foot until they reached the hastily built obstacles and bunkers. After observing the terrain firsthand, all officers agreed that this concession was no easy target.

Unlike the common bamboo houses in Hanoi, the concession was entirely in French style, featuring many marble-built structures that could serve as sturdy defensive points without any repairs. There were also numerous bunkers on both the outer and inner perimeters of the concession, standing three to four meters tall and resistant to destruction unless subjected to repeated artillery fire.

Thus, intense artillery bombardment began right away, similar to what happened last night. Various types of cannons fired in dense volleys at the defenses surrounding the concession. However, due to technical limitations, after the first round of firing, the firing rates of all cannons slowed down.

These recoil-mounted cannons would retreat sharply after each shot until the recoil subsided, after which the gunners would rush forward to reset the cannons, clean out the spent shells, and prepare for the next round of fire—though their accuracy was low.

As a result, the French artillery quickly launched counterattacks aimed at the Black Flag Army’s artillery. Bullets from both sides traced arcs in the sky, delivering waves of damage to the enemy.

The French artillery was more advanced, and after a few rounds, it gradually suppressed the Black Flag Army’s artillery. Yet they still didn’t gain the upper hand. What troubled them most were the several mortars of the Xiliu Infantry Regiment.

The Hanhai Battalion deployed its two 60-mm mortars, while its own two 60-mm mortars remained inactive. These artillery pieces with curved trajectories would move after firing two or three shells, then reposition themselves to resume firing.

They posed a threat that was neither too great nor too small to the French artillery. Although the process of artillery suppression and counter-suppression was rather tedious, the French soon realized that their normal counterattack procedures were disrupted by these unknown artillery pieces.

Whenever the crisp sound of enemy shells leaving the barrels could be heard, their own forces had to be extra cautious, otherwise, casualties would occur. Even when they managed to locate an enemy artillery position, the Black Flag Army would move away before they could even start firing.

Fortunately, although these shells had unexpected lethality, they could only barely damage some obstacles and had little effect on bunkers and fortifications. Both sides engaged in battles of suppression and counter-suppression. The entire position was filled with the roar of artillery. Captain Bisselle, as the highest commander of the Hanoi Concession, could not relax. Now without naval support, falling behind in the artillery duel would be a fatal problem. Both sides continued to suppress each other’s artillery positions, though at a much slower rate. Bisselle asked an artillery lieutenant, “Do you still have confidence?” “Yes! We have enough shells!” Li Weiyeh had stockpiled sufficient ammunition in Hanoi—enough rifle rounds for each rifle to fire 300 shots, and an average of 170 shells per cannon. However, the loss of the Hotchkiss machine gun meant they could no longer use its long-range firepower for suppression. That 37-mm five-barreled machine gun could fire 60 high-explosive shells per minute once it started shooting, capable of tearing apart an entire infantry battalion. But in the Battle of the Paper Bridge, the French lost all three of their cannons, and after yesterday’s river battle, the defenders lost support from surface ships as well. Yet this artilleryman still carried the arrogance of a Gallic rooster: “Captain, you should be well aware that yesterday’s artillery battle was a victory for France. Those ships were simply too fragile. But now it’s different—this is solid ground!” He looked ahead; with clear visibility, one cannon array was ready to fire in a 180-degree arc. Several observation posts high up could monitor enemy movements immediately, and the artillery had sufficient infantry cover. If the infantry separated from the artillery, they would likely be immediately overwhelmed by fire. “Sir Bisselle, I have eleven cannons at my disposal, plus some temporarily acquired bronze cannons. With such firepower, even if the Black Flag Army brings 200 cannons to engage us in artillery fire, we can still achieve a complete victory!” “One of our cannons is equivalent to ten of theirs, and we have enough shells. Excluding the unusable Hotchkiss shells, I have 2,000 shells, not including those from the bronze cannons.” The artillery lieutenant glanced at the tricolor flag flying high over the concession: “Even if the Black Flag Army brings 200 bronze cannons, they won’t win. Their artillery skills are still at a medieval level; their best cannons are only on par with those used in the Civil War—just some smoothbore guns!” He said proudly, “As long as we have artillery, this tricolor flag will always fly here!” Bisselle now had confidence in the artillery. Just as they were about to speak, they heard the sound of shells being fired—it was the Black Flag Army’s mortars starting to shoot. But what hit the artillery positions first were shots from the Black Flag Army’s snipers using rifles. In that era, artillerymen had no concept of using fortifications to cover their positions; all cannons were placed directly in open fields. At first, since the French had a significant artillery advantage, they could fire without restraint.

But at this moment, it turned into a disaster. The snipers of Xiliu Camp, after years of training, were all expert marksmen who never missed a shot. Especially now, equipped with twice as powerful scopes and professional sniper rifles, they were truly the best among marksmen.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
The six snipers hit their targets almost instantly. Their targets were not ordinary artillerymen but observers and officers. Four out of six bullets struck their marks—the high-impact rifle rounds penetrated the bodies, causing severe damage.
In addition to the professional snipers, the Remington-riflemen from various companies also had scopes with a 1.5x magnification. Thanks to their large numbers, the first wave of rifle attacks also hit three targets.
Blood stained the entire artillery position red. When an officer was hit, blood gushed out of his body and sprayed up to two meters away, reaching the artillery pieces. But this was just the beginning. The officers heard the whistling of shells almost immediately.
It was some unknown type of small cannon. The French artillerymen held their breath at that moment, followed by intense explosions that swept through the entire artillery position.
Captain Bisele stared in shock at his artillery position, which was in complete chaos. The artillerymen had no time to attend to their guns and ran backward. There were over twenty dead and wounded on the field, especially among the Vietnamese laborers. With just this single round of bombardment, the entire artillery unit was completely suppressed.
“They won’t be able to defeat us even in a hundred years!” The artillery lieutenant blurted out these words, only to realize his artillery position was in disarray. But upon closer inspection, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Although suppressed after just one round of bombardment, the core of the artillery unit had been preserved, and four guns remained on the field. In the upcoming battles, the artillery should be able to play a significant role, and he still had two more guns under control.
Moreover, the old-fashioned guns of the Black Flag Army surely couldn’t compare to these unknown weapons.
“Attack!”
Almost simultaneously with the suppression of the artillery, the Black Flag Army’s guns came back online. They fired all their shells, tearing a huge gap in the defenders’ defensive positions.
Even the artillery lieutenant couldn’t understand this—how could their artillery coordination be so strong?
He didn’t know it was purely thanks to the field telephone network. With telephones, even from several kilometers away, Xiliu Camp and the Black Flag Army could still stay informed of the situation.
Cai Yunnan saw victory within reach. He shouted, “Hanoi Camp! Charge!”
With artillery supporting their attack from behind, along with four 60-mm mortars at their disposal, it was these guns that gave Cai Yunnan absolute confidence.
Based on past experience, the Black Flag Army didn’t use a brute-force tactics in their assaults. With Cai Yunnan in command of the main force, the initial assault units dispersed and advanced rapidly.
Meanwhile, the French forces in the concession also emerged from various locations, engaging the Black Flag Army in gunfights from all sides, trying to blunt their offensive momentum. But both the Black Flag Army and Xiliu Camp pressed forward with the support of their artillery.

“Boom!” The French artillery positions came back to life once again. Despite the flying shrapnel, the French artillerymen rushed back to their positions: “Fire! Fire!” The snipers killed another observer and an officer, but these artillerymen, amid chaotic command, aimed their guns at the Black Flag Army’s advancing forces. “Boom!” The ground shook as this shell caused heavy casualties among the Black Flag Army. Another shell landed on their artillery positions, killing or wounding the gunners, yet the French artillery continued to fire desperately. But even fiercer battles were unfolding at the front lines, with bullets from both sides leaving no refuge on the battlefield. Cai Yunnan watched as most of the vanguard squad was instantly killed or wounded. The situation elsewhere was not better either—the French resistance was unexpectedly tenacious. Utilizing their excellent visibility, they fired everything from 90-mm cannons to rifle bullets, turning that two- to three-hundred-strong assault zone into a sea of fire. “Artillery, fire!” Neither side’s artillery cared about their own safety and kept firing relentlessly, while Cai Yunnan cursed, “Five hundred? What garbage intelligence!” According to the information obtained by the Black Flag Army, most of the French forces had already been wiped out at Zhiqiao. The defending troops in Hanoi’s concession were merely five hundred regular soldiers, of which fewer than three hundred were actual French troops. Yet as the battle began, Cai Yunnan, Huang Shouzhong, and even Liu Yu could tell from the enemy’s gunfire and resistance level: “There are more than five hundred!” Although many Catholic militia members were among the French forces in the front line, experienced officers could clearly see that the front-line strength was around five hundred, and almost no French infantry were visible—only a few officers directing the local infantry in battle. This was carefully planned by Bissel: if the local infantry were placed in the second line while the French were in the first, then if the French collapsed, the local infantry would lose all confidence and the entire front line would collapse. By placing the local infantry in the first line, they could wear down the Black Flag Army’s strength. With the powerful French forces behind them, the local infantry would have sufficient fighting confidence and would fight to the death under their supervision. “Prepare to reinforce forces!” Liu Yu figured this out immediately: “Sima, you’ll need to be ready this time!” As the top ace of the entire Xiliu Infantry Regiment, Xiliu Battalion had the strongest combat capability. Now that Hanhai Battalion was already in battle and Crow Battalion had suffered heavy losses at Zhiqiao, the key lay with their own founding unit. Sima Tai also enjoyed this sense of bearing heavy responsibilities: “I’ll go prepare right away!” At the front line, both sides could almost see each other’s faces. The infantry of Xiliu Battalion lay prone while throwing grenades at the enemy’s bunkers across from them—close enough to engage in hand-to-hand combat. They had rushed in through a hail of bullets to reach such close range, but now they were at the French forces’ main defensive zone.

Nearly a dozen French cannons, whether advanced steel guns or copper guns brought in as fillers, fired desperately to carry out their mission. They didn’t care about ammunition consumption; they only wanted to repel the Black Flag Army’s first wave of attack so that subsequent battles would be much smoother.

Huang Shouzhong also saw that the Black Flag Army suffered significant losses on all fronts. The tenacity of the indigenous infantry in holding their positions far exceeded his expectations. However, upon examining Captain Deng’s vanguard troops, he felt relieved.

So far, the Black Flag Army’s losses, though substantial, were still within acceptable limits. But this situation couldn’t continue. If things went on like this, the infantry would suffer more and more casualties under heavy fire. Even retreating would come at a high cost, and they would have to abandon the wounded on the battlefield.

“We need to break the deadlock!”

Just as he was thinking about how to break the stalemate, the vanguard platoon of the Hanhai Battalion loudly ordered, “Demolitionists! Get ready!”