Chapter 195: Surrender

No matter how hard these lower-ranking officers and soldiers persisted, it couldn’t change the reality—that they had to risk everything to reach Hanoi.
The French were well-prepared for this operation, larger than any previous reinforcement effort, with soldiers from seven infantry battalions filling the decks.
Each gunboat had a deep draft, which even affected its speed. Soldiers in red breeches protested loudly on the decks, but all they got in return were a few scolding words from the officers.
Every soldier packed as many personal belongings as possible. Some, upon learning that no food had been prepared for them in Hanoi, brought three days’ worth of rations and two full jugs of water, along with 200 rounds of ammunition each.
But it wasn’t until they boarded the ships that they realized they were crammed so tightly they could hardly move. Heads were everywhere. One soldier, helpless, leaned on the railing and said, “Just one cannonball from the Black Flag Army will send us all to heaven…”
But for the defenders of Hanoi, it wasn’t just a matter of cannonballs. Since yesterday morning, they had been living in constant turmoil.
The Black Flag Army was like a violent demolition crew, using countless high-powered cannonballs to destroy any defensive works in their path.
The fortifications built from mud and bricks were as fragile as tofu in the face of their massive cannonballs, often torn apart instantly, killing everyone inside.
The French finally organized a fierce counterbattery attack, even forming a barrage of fire. Over an hour, 800 cannonballs were fired, but the Black Flag Army responded by firing 2,000 cannonballs to destroy the entire French artillery position.
One after another, the French defensive positions were breached. After the brutal artillery bombardment, few survived. Even those who did managed to escape faced an even more painful reality.
The Black Flag Army’s infantry, dressed in grass-green uniforms and armed with gleaming bayonets, rushed into the breached positions after the bombardment and engaged in fierce battles with the French troops inside.
It was a life-and-death struggle, but it had to be admitted that after over a month of fighting, the French fighting spirit had greatly weakened. Time and again, they broke under the pressure of bayonet charges and retreated.
Battle flags were raised on the French positions. At first, the French sent some soldiers with bayonets to try to regain the lost positions and drive out the disorganized Black Flag Army troops.
But every counterattack was shattered by intense artillery fire. After several failures, the French could only watch helplessly as the Black Flag Army continued to seize more territory.
Yet the greatest threat to the French were the Black Flag Army’s marksmen. These riflemen had astonishing marksmanship, seemingly able to take lives from long distances.
In just two days, the entire front line began to collapse. White flags had already been raised on one of the Western fortresses.
“I thought we could hold out for at least a week!”

“That’s right! I think the same!”
As the main culprit for this failure, Erminga helplessly watched the white flag raised by the Western forces. “It seems there are French troops inside?”
“One of our platoons is in there!” Goubert didn’t want to blame anyone directly. “They’ve done their duty!”
After the battle began, although many people surrendered or handed over their weapons without firing a single shot, most of them were Vietnamese infantrymen; there were few Frenchmen, and they surrendered sporadically.
Yet the French had believed they could hold out for at least a week, but they collapsed just the next day. A French platoon, along with more Vietnamese soldiers, managed only one round of resistance before raising the white flag.
Erminga’s face turned pale—he could already imagine the outcome. “I suppose this is the best way. I won’t have to face a military court!”
The rear admiral glared at the main responsible person for this failure with hatred, but soon his expression turned compassionate—he had once been a prisoner in the Franco-Prussian War too.
“Colonel, I’ve prepared a gunboat. It will take some of the most valuable citizens to Haiphong. I’ve reserved a ticket for you!”
“I refuse to go to a military court!” Erminga’s face grew even paler. “I think dying in battle is the best fate for me!”
“You have real courage!” Major Goubert didn’t want to say too much. “Go home.”
It took Erminga a long time to accept this advice. “Then what should you do?”
“I was captured by the Germans at Sedan. Since I’ve experienced such pain once, it shouldn’t be too difficult a second time…”
The rear admiral spoke casually, but Erminga wisely sensed his pain.
The defeat at Sedan was indeed one of the most painful chapters in French military history. But back then, Goubert was just an ordinary officer, while now he was the supreme commander of the entire campaign—and he would have to issue the most painful orders.
“Major, please leave!” Erminga cried tears. “I’ll issue the order to surrender!”
Originally, in Erminga’s mind, continuing the resistance in Hanoi held great military significance—they could hold off the main forces of the Black Flag Army. But the general offensive that began yesterday made him realize how absurd his idea was.
He had to admit that Liu Yu, the supreme commander of the Black Flag Army, was an outstanding military leader, and his army was a formidable force whose advances faced almost no obstacles.
These hastily assembled French troops, lacking food and ammunition, fought bravely, but the intense artillery fire, coupled with overwhelming assaults, easily crushed all resistance.
Although there was still a final offensive with five thousand soldiers, everyone knew that the fall of Hanoi was only a matter of time.
The Black Flag Army captured any position with ease, as if they had practiced countless times. What made Erminga even more desperate were their heavy mortars.

The 150-mm and 120-mm mortars, equipped with specialized shells, became the most effective weapons for breaching defensive positions, forcing the French to reconsider their field orders. The field fortifications hastily constructed according to those orders, which the French had once considered impregnable, now turned out to be as weak as paper. The Black Flag Army used their artillery to destroy these fortifications one by one, leaving the French with painful memories.

“Colonel!” Major General Gobat laughed. “Although you’re not a competent commander, nor even a qualified soldier, I think you can fulfill your duties as a French citizen by documenting our experiences and lessons from this war…”

“As for the greatest responsibility, I’ll take it on…”

As he said this, the major general felt as though his heart was being torn apart, but he quickly calmed down. “Hurry up and board the ship. Once you’re off shore, I’ll raise the white flag!”

The loud cannon fire continued, with the Black Flag Army still fighting hard to attack Hanoi. The only remaining gunboat on the Red River was also packed to capacity. Among them were technicians and young, outstanding officers. Seeing Elminga in the crowd, they felt a sense of distance from him. But the ship was so crowded that it was impossible to even keep a little distance from Elminga. A few officers leaned on the railing, while more officers and technicians squeezed inside. Every available spot was filled with people, yet many more waited on the shore.

This was the last ship to leave Hanoi. Suddenly, the ship set sail, and the people on the banks screamed loudly, trying to find any way to pull it back. But it was already too late; some even jumped into the river. Elminga gripped the railing tightly as bullets from the Black Flag Army flew in from all directions. Yet he quickly turned his gaze toward Hanoi. The tricolor flag, the most prominent symbol in these ruins, still fluttered above the city. But soon, it began to descend. His heart tightened, but he refused to accept such a hopeless scene. The white flag rose slowly, and the moment froze. His heart was shattered. Some officers who had escaped danger let out desperate cries, while others jumped into the Red River, trying to swim back to Hanoi. The gunboat, hit by dozens of bullets, continued to move downstream under heavy fire, leaving the city under bombardment behind.

“This is the most desperate moment! This is France’s darkest hour!”

Everyone’s face showed sorrow, and many cried. But their enemies paid no attention to their emotions, continuing to fire bullets and shells from all sides. War was cruel—victors on the battlefield never stopped at just enough; they always sought to maximize their gains. The gunboat that escaped Hanoi soon suffered heavy losses. Its deck was hit by two mortar shells, leaving it in complete chaos.

“I don’t think there’s any ship more battered than ours!”
One of the officers joked in frustration, “I’ll bet a hundred francs!”
But as soon as he spoke, an observer said, “I think your hundred francs are gone!”
“Why?”
“You should take a look across from you!”
He, along with Colonel Erming, had already seen the fleet approaching below—this fleet was barely still afloat.
It was a reinforcement fleet coming from the coastal defenses to Hanoi.