Chapter 130: Confrontation

Liu Suiyun loudly ordered, “Target: the imperial palace! The first company to capture it will be honored…”
“The First Company of Thanh Hóa!”
The staff officers and soldiers standing beside him were surprised by such an order in the midst of battle, but they quickly cheered, “The first company to take the Thanh Hóa imperial palace will be the honored First Company of Thanh Hóa!”
“The First Company of Thanh Hóa!”
The advancing crowd echoed the same cheers, moving faster and with even higher morale.
Though it was a temporarily assembled unit, each of its companies was an experienced unit that valued its honor deeply. For the sake of the First Company of Thanh Hóa’s honor, they were willing to make sacrifices.
Whether officers or soldiers, everyone had set their sights on the Thanh Hóa imperial palace.
Only one unit lacked such honor—a infantry platoon tasked with sniping had already rushed to a village between Thanh Hóa and Thuan An roads. According to the topographic map, this village not only had favorable terrain but could also use its position to control the entire Thanh Hóa road with firepower.
As an outstanding infantry platoon leader, Liu Pengcheng’s promotion was not merely because he was part of the Liu family; his performance had been exceptional from Hai Yang to Hanoi. However, his company was one of the oldest in the Xi Liu Camp, and its officers were often demoted, which was why he was only a platoon leader.
In just half an hour, the entire reinforced platoon completed its basic defensive preparations. The villagers were driven out to avoid being accidentally harmed by the fighting.
In return, a few able-bodied villagers were conscripted to help build temporary fortifications, but Liu Pengcheng personally allowed them to leave before the battle began. All materials in the village were utilized, and the entire village quickly turned into a solid fortress, with gun emplacements hidden everywhere. The soldiers, without rest, hurriedly constructed infantry shelters.
The officers were familiar with the surrounding terrain and admired Liu Yu’s choice of this strategic location before the battle. With just their reinforced platoon here, even an enemy force of two or three companies would struggle to advance for days.
The maps in their hands were drawn by Liu Pengcheng himself. The Xi Liu Camp had many such large-scale maps, created by officers of the Black Flag Army during secret reconnaissance trips.
It was thanks to these detailed secret maps that this small unit was able to cross countless mountains and reach the outskirts of Hanoi.
For the combat engineers, however, there was much work to be done. Their mules carried dozens of anti-infantry mines, which were quickly laid out to form a minefield aimed at stopping the French army’s first wave of attack.
In addition, they had to guide the infantry in modifying the terrain. The village already had some defenses against bandits, but they were too weak against the French artillery. They had to reshape the terrain quickly, turning the village into a grave for the French army.

Everyone was busy, even the conscripted laborers dared not slack off. They knew that these over sixty seemingly amiable soldiers were extremely difficult to deal with and could turn hostile at any moment. At Shun’an, Major General Gobat, who had just landed, was also busy. He had eight hundred infantrymen borrowed from Cochinchina, but since significant changes seemed to have taken place in Huế that they were unaware of, he needed to maintain a stronger force. Each ironclad ship and cruiser had between two hundred and four hundred sailors, and some even had landing teams specialized in amphibious operations. Thus, aside from the necessary personnel to operate the ships and guns, additional troops were temporarily formed into infantry companies and added to this large force. A reconnaissance party had already been sent to gather the latest information on Huế, but Major General Gobat believed that some unforeseen situation might occur near Huế, so caution was needed. Then, an infantry company was sent out as a vanguard. They had received orders to capture Huế in one fell swoop if possible and force the Vietnamese to surrender: “They don’t need to do anything other than compromise.” He vaguely felt that although things seemed to be slipping out of his and the commissioner’s control, he was absolutely confident in conquering Huế and Annam. All the troops that Major General Gobat could muster had gathered in Shun’an—excluding the vanguard company sent out, there were nearly a thousand soldiers. Most of these troops were French, with few indigenous infantrymen. He could also expect support from one or two more companies from the ships, and it was this strength that gave him such confidence. Between Shun’an and Huế, no enemy forces could stop his advance. The Black Flag Army’s morale was high, but after advancing half a kilometer, they finally encountered the toughest resistance yet—about a few hundred soldiers gathered together, using fortifications for defense. Their uniforms were disheveled, clearly not part of the same force, but under the attack of the Xiliu Camp, they managed to maintain some morale. Even bursts of gunfire and grenades couldn’t force them to retreat. Their equipment was too varied, and although they were on defense, the vanguard’s attack still killed forty or fifty of them, yet they still held their positions in the fortifications. “Finally, our chance to fire!” Two 60-mm mortars arrived and were set up on the spot. The artillerymen’s faces showed evident joy as they assembled the guns, shouting, “Let’s show them what we’re made of!” Since the start of the battle, they had raised their guns three times, but because the Vietnamese forces retreated too quickly, they hadn’t even finished setting them up before their opponents collapsed. “Boom…” A mortar shell exploded in the fortification, and the enemy immediately responded with a burst of gunfire, but since most of it was from muskets, its lethality was low. What impressed the Xiliu Camp was that the enemy still didn’t collapse.

Under the bombardment, this hastily assembled force still hadn’t collapsed; instead, it retained a sliver of morale until mortars fired for half a minute and infantry launched an assault, at which point the force finally disintegrated. But because of their resistance, the troops were delayed for nearly ten minutes. The next moment, all officers and soldiers were filled with extreme joy—they saw that golden wall! It was the imperial palace. … Right across from them, Nguyen Bac Minh watched another group of Vietnamese troops retreat outside the palace city, with gunshots growing louder. He too became nervous; this was his first time on the battlefield. He glanced at the soldiers around him, clad in the armor used by Emperor Shizu during his conquest of Shanxi, holding bows and arrows, yet they lacked resolve. As the imperial guards, they were often the first to corrupt in a country, and the Nguyen dynasty was no exception. It had been less than a hundred years since Emperor Shizu conquered Shanxi and unified all of Vietnam, yet the southern region no longer had any troops available. These imperial guards were almost useless except for ceremonial purposes. Their armor, left over from Emperor Shizu’s era, was extremely outdated, and their weapons were far behind their time. Thinking of Emperor Shizu’s 150,000 elite soldiers, he could only sigh. It should be noted that both the Western Mountain Dynasty and Emperor Nguyen Shizu had plans to march northward to conquer the Qing dynasty and unify the world. After unifying all of Vietnam, Emperor Nguyen Shizu selected elite soldiers from the south and formed a massive army of 150,000 men near Hue, aiming to march north into China someday. Yet, in just a few years, what remained of this powerful army had become weak, unable to fight or defend. But Nguyen Bac Minh couldn’t retreat. Just now, the royal family had specifically named him, appointing this man, who had repeatedly failed in officialdom, as the commander of all troops in Hue, tasked with leading them out of the city to buy time for the emperor and his subjects. He was a scholar who knew nothing about military affairs and had risen through the imperial examinations, but after years of setbacks in politics, he was only now drafted as a conscript. Yet, amid the gunshots, he stepped forward. “Soldiers! Follow me!” Nguyen Bac Minh was terrified—these were the Black Flag Army, and there were French troops outside the city. One misstep could lead to eternal shame, but he couldn’t retreat. Not only could he not retreat, but he had to move forward. Near the palace city, there were still 6,000 soldiers, most of whom were in poor condition, but many were still capable of fighting. He had to hold off the enemy forces. … “French troops spotted! French troops spotted!” Liu Pengcheng almost jumped up. “They arrived so quickly?” He had only been in this village for a little over two and a half hours, and the vanguard of the French army had already arrived. He raised his telescope and saw a dozen French soldiers rushing over, wearing red breeches. Yes! It was the French! He knew well that French soldiers in red breeches were highly visible targets, especially in the forest—like fireflies in the night sky, impossible to hide.

It should be noted that the French wore red breeches for a long time even after the outbreak of World War I. Due to their striking appearance, they became easy targets for enemy fire. It was only after hundreds of thousands of lives were lost that they were abandoned. Now, these French front-line troops are the perfect targets; their reinforced platoons are equipped with two snipers, so at a mere gesture from them, the two snipers would raise their scopes. The Remington riflemen in the platoon were no less precise—although they only had 1.5x scopes, targeting such conspicuous targets was no problem at all. This French reconnaissance unit also surveyed the terrain along the way, but the intermittent gunfire from Huế forced them to assess the situation sooner, so they accelerated their pace and quickly entered the killing range of the Xiliu Camp. They knew the area was dangerous, but they were not inexperienced in combat. Over the past few days, they had been fighting the Vietnamese defending the fortresses, and French artillery fire couldn’t solve everything; infantry still had to take control in critical moments, and they were well aware of the Vietnamese soldiers’ combat capabilities. To defeat 500 Vietnamese soldiers, just this reconnaissance squad was sufficient. What they needed to do now was to quickly figure out what was happening inside Huế. In a hurry, just as they were about to cross the village, bullets suddenly flew in from both sides. “Bang!” The lieutenant in charge of the reconnaissance unit was hit in the head and fell to the ground instantly. The snipers weren’t done yet—eight bullets eliminated five French soldiers, with high-powered rifle rounds killing two and wounding three. Then came the intense fire from the Black Flag Army’s rifles. Although they had dispersed into combat formations, a single volley from an infantry platoon knocked down the entire reconnaissance unit in an instant. “Ah…” The wounded soldiers fell to the ground while firing in return, but this small group of fifteen or sixteen men was immediately trapped in a hail of fire, with more being hit at every moment. Another volley followed, and by now no one was still standing. The remaining four or five French soldiers lay on the ground, completely suppressed by the enemy fire, firing only one or two shots occasionally. “God!” Another French unit appeared in the distance. Their commander saw the plight of the reconnaissance unit and ordered, “Spread out! Form combat formations and advance!” They knew well that without the sacrifice of the reconnaissance unit, the enemy’s first attack would have hit their own forces, especially since they were marching in columns toward Huế. The infantry dispersed into a skirmish line, but the reconnaissance unit ahead was already silent. Fifteen or sixteen infantrymen had rashly rushed into the enemy’s fire zone, and it was already a miracle they had held out for five or six minutes with no preparation. Now it was the French’s turn to launch an attack with an infantry company. They attached great importance to this Vietnamese force standing in their way. One of their advance reconnaissance units had been completely wiped out in an enemy ambush, and the corpses of that squad lay right before their eyes—proof that the enemy’s firearms were formidable.

They could tell from the gunfire that the enemy had some rapid-fire rifles, including the most popular Remingtons and the cheapest Sniders, as well as relatively sturdy fortifications. But no matter how powerful the firepower or how solid the fortifications, they were meaningless before the French army launched an attack. Moreover, the position in front of them was merely a fort built temporarily using a village; the defending forces were few, at most the size of one company. If a French company couldn’t handle a Vietnamese infantry company, it would be a disgrace. Therefore, the vanguard was determined to launch an attack on the reconnaissance unit before the artillery arrived. For the defenders, eliminating the reconnaissance unit was just a minor task before the main battle; the real challenge lay in dealing with the enemy forces, who were about twice as many as theirs and all French soldiers. The French army advanced while firing, but the defenders hid in their positions, waiting for the right moment. Only when the French troops approached the minefield did Liu Pengcheng order, “Mortars! Fire!”