Chapter 139: Planting Willows

At Shun’an Fort, Major General Gobat could no longer hide his frustration. He cursed the bureaucrats in Cochinchina, “What? No reinforcements can be sent? We only need one battalion here; a thousand would be even better.”

The battles on Shun’an Road had shattered the French army’s fighting spirit, leaving both officers and soldiers unable to regain morale in a short time. They had all the advantages—numerical superiority, firepower, and supplies—so where was the problem? Some officers blamed poor command, and naturally, the highest commander came under scrutiny.

Yet the rear admiral and his staff insisted their command was flawless. If there was a problem, it was an overestimation of the landing troops’ combat strength—they hadn’t even managed to withstand the first attack from the Black Flag Army. As for the other accusations, the commander and his subordinates called them shameless attacks that defied reality. Yet these shameless attackers forced the entire force to halt its offensive.

The timid naval sailors even did what even the Black Flag Army hadn’t managed: upon hearing that reinforcements wouldn’t arrive in a short time, they simply retreated to their ships. Without their help, the entire force was forced to take a defensive stance near Shun’an Fort, waiting for reinforcements from Cochinchina.

But reinforcements couldn’t reach Shun’an anytime soon—this was entirely due to Boisdeffre’s mistakes. His failure in Hué led him to shamelessly request support from the governor, who, already under heavy defensive pressure, lent him one French battalion and one native infantry battalion.

Over the past few months, large numbers of troops had been transferred from Saigon to Tonkin. General Boisdeffre received about five to six thousand reinforcements, while Gobat only had eight hundred soldiers borrowed from Saigon. Now, these eight hundred soldiers were forced to retreat to Shun’an Fort due to heavy casualties and the sailors’ cowardice—another stain on Major General Gobat’s military career.

Nevertheless, he must capture Hué to contribute to France’s colonial ambitions: “Send another steamboat to Saigon. Inform the governor of our situation—we need many more troops; our situation is extremely dangerous.”

Due to his proximity to the coast, he couldn’t use a more urgent tone, as that would prompt the governor to advise him to withdraw his troops to the sea.

However, the headquarters wasn’t aware of the inefficiency of the bureaucratic system. Beyond the massive troop transfers, the Cochinchina colony had lost its initial enthusiasm for this war. Though full of illusions and hopes, colonial troops continued to be sent to Tonkin, only to be steadily depleted.

Over the past few months, more than a thousand soldiers sent from Saigon, including colonial native troops, had died in battle. Many wounded were brought back from the north, but a significant portion of them were no longer fit for service.

Although some troops were recalled from the local area, it was far from enough to make up for the losses. After three battalions were dispatched one after another, the colonial bureaucrats unanimously agreed that forces should be preserved appropriately, otherwise the colony’s security would be severely affected. As for the commander’s request for assistance, they saw it as merely a formality; even if a small number of Black Flag troops occupied Huế, they would withdraw without support under the threat of the powerful French forces. Regarding the reinforcements sent, after these bureaucrats jointly requested it from the governor, he finally agreed not to dispatch the French troops, which were the core of the colony’s security, nor the old indigenous troops, but instead sent two indigenous infantry battalions that were still being formed to Huế. These two battalions consisted of a thousand indigenous soldiers, including dozens of French officers, which satisfied the governor-general and the rear admiral—but this decision was made three days after Gobert requested support, and they would not set sail for another week. Before the reinforcements arrived, the rear admiral could only retreat to the fortress in Thuan An, where he had complete freedom with the support of naval artillery. However, he was unwilling to live such a life, though he might have to. After all, casualty figures did not deceive any officer or soldier: “Our total number of troops who landed was 1,603; 473 were killed or missing, and 382 were wounded.” Although these figures wouldn’t subject him to a military court, they were indeed a serious disgrace. It was because of these losses that the troops lost the will to advance further: “More than half of our soldiers were killed or wounded, especially among the infantry and artillery.” Governor-General Gouraud listened to Gobert’s report and asked just one question: “To deal with a group of Chinese Black Flag bandits, you had to pay such a high price? General Beauregard will laugh at me—he lost fewer French soldiers in Hué.” “These are the three strongest and oldest infantry battalions of the Black Flag forces, all here. I’ve confirmed this; the battle saw the involvement of three battalions: Willow Trees, Crows, and the Sea.” The governor-general said bitterly, “Do you expect me to report this truthfully to Paris? 1,600 French soldiers unable to deal with 2,000 Black Flag troops, and suffering a severe defeat in battle.” “No! This was a victory!” Although defeated, Major General Gobert remained wise: “Our defeat was due to not understanding our opponents and not being familiar with their tactics. When we understand them, it will be their turn to fail.” Major General Gobert glanced out the window at the rolling sea: “See! No matter how powerful they are, France will be like the sea, destroying everything they have. Their temporary victories are only because we don’t understand them.”

“Based on what we’ve learned, all three infantry battalions of the Black Flag Army have suffered devastating losses. They are prepared to abandon Da Nang if necessary and retreat to the Dong Nai region.” Major General Guoba was absolutely correct: “Although we lost nearly 500 soldiers, the Black Flag Army suffered even greater losses—thousands of them died in battle.”
The chief commissioner’s expression turned grim: “But General, both you and I will have to face a military court.”
“No! We are heroes of the Republic!” Guoba was full of confidence. “As long as we capture Da Nang, we will become heroes of the Republic and conquer the Kingdom of Annam.”
……
“Approximately 700 enemy soldiers were killed and about 600 were wounded—these are rough estimates. The actual casualties may be even higher!”
Just like the French, the Xiliu Camp also exaggerated the enemy’s losses: “These are remarkable achievements, but our own losses are severe.”
“About 180 soldiers were killed and 120 were wounded. The number of dead even exceeds that of the wounded, showing just how fierce the battle was,” Liu Suiyun said to his officers, holding up the casualty statistics. “These figures don’t include those with minor injuries. In addition, we suffered heavy losses among the new recruits we gathered in Da Nang—out of 200 soldiers who fought, only 50 survived.”
For a small unit of just 600 men, losing half of them meant losing much of their combat strength. After retreating to Da Nang, they immediately began recruiting new soldiers.
They didn’t hide their intention to withdraw from Da Nang, but the people there still had some confidence in a force that had defeated the French.
Within two days, they recruited 340 new soldiers. Combined with their original troops, their strength was theoretically even greater than when they entered Da Nang. But everyone knew that these new recruits would only become useful after going through the trials of battle.
The victory on the Da An Road was due to many coincidences, partly because the French didn’t understand the Xiliu Camp well. Moreover, the Xiliu Camp was well aware that they didn’t have much to spare. Wasting a large force near Da Nang would be a mistake.
For some young people in Da Nang, joining the Black Flag Army offered a way to survive—though it wasn’t as glorious as Liu Suiyun portrayed it.
They already belonged to the lowest strata of society. Even if they didn’t die in the chaos, they would be tortured to death in silence. Besides, the salary paid by the Xiliu Camp was real money—bunches of copper coins and silver coins that were definitely genuine.
After the battle, the Xiliu Camp established its reputation well. They paid a salary to the new recruits, gave each wounded soldier 20 strings of copper coins as a reward, and 60 strings to the families of the dead—without even counting the costs of burials.
Together with the settlement money given upon enlistment, this was a huge sum for an ordinary Vietnamese family. As for deserters, the Black Flag Army hunted them down and used harsh measures to assert its authority.

Many young people felt that life held no hope, but upon seeing the young Liu Suiyun and hearing his story, everyone was inspired: “By the age of thirty, you may either become a general or a martyr… There should be no other path.”
This option didn’t seem bad—at least it was far better than the miserable life they led now.
In a dynasty that possessed four million in treasury funds yet refused to spend a penny, with even the lowest-ranking official positions up for sale, the lower classes suffered greatly.
They thought joining the Black Flag Army offered great hope, especially since many important figures in Thanh Hóa had followed this willow-leaf flag northward.
They made one request of Liu Suiyun: to give them more settlement money, fifteen guan per person. Liu Suiyun replied that they would have to go to Tonkin before this could be considered.
Other than that, they were trained like ordinary recruits by instructors, including some people from Thanh Hóa who had joined the Xiliu Camp just two or three days earlier.
After brief training, this massive army set out from Thanh Hóa under Liu Suiyun’s command, heading north.
The procession was spectacular—over ten kilometers long, with mule and horse teams at the front, followed by herds of cattle.
Liu Suiyun used the remaining Vietnamese government institutions to gather almost all the cattle in the Thanh Hóa area. They were fed water and grass so they wouldn’t need to be fed or watered for three days.
The five hundred cattle carts were not only for carrying goods but also for the Vietnamese people traveling north. However, many soldiers had to walk.
This army carried away decades of wealth accumulated by the Thanh Hóa dynasty, so much so that when the French entered Thanh Hóa, they found it very different from what they had expected.
General Boisdeffre attacked his political rivals in his memoirs in a harsh tone: “I must state that the capture of Thanh Hóa, considered the greatest event of this war, was a costly mistake. After a disastrous defeat, Major General Gobat entered Thanh Hóa only after the enemy voluntarily surrendered (emphasis added). His enemy forces, numbering less than half of Major General’s forces, did so.”
“Subsequent events proved how flawed this decision was, to the point that we were unable to recover the losses incurred. Due to the existence of the Black Flag Army guerrillas, we had to deploy tens of thousands of troops in Central Vietnam.”
“…Since the Thanh Hóa region had long become a desert of wealth, we gained nothing during our time in Central Vietnam. The military expenses amounted to 120 million francs. The climate was so harsh that thousands of soldiers died not from combat but from epidemics (General Boisdeffre noted here that the number of French soldiers who died in Tonkin was less than one percent of this figure).”
“In short, I must tell the truth: the march on Thanh Hóa was a major blunder in French military history…”
Beneath the soil of Thanh Hóa, Liu Suiyun had sown seeds. He didn’t know what harvest they would bring.

Some of the recruits from the Huế area were unwilling to follow the army northward and leave their hometowns, but they were willing to fight to the end against the French. A significant number of them were veterans from the battles along the Thuận An Road, while others, being severely injured, could not bear such hardships. As a result, Lưu Tuấn Vân left behind a infantry platoon and a deputy squad leader.

“The Central Annam Independent Unit!” This was the temporary name of this force. Comprising less than a hundred soldiers, including many severely injured ones and new recruits, this unit received a large amount of supplies that the Black Flag Army could not take with them.

The supplies included numerous copper coins, white lead money, some bulk goods, and plenty of food… Everything in the warehouses was given to them, with the task of holding off the French as long as possible to cover the army’s withdrawal.

Lưu Tuấn Vân did not think they could achieve much, but even as a small unit, they could cause the French some trouble, which was sufficient. For this reason, he also gave them forty rifles from the captured weapons, dating from 1878.

Yet, what was unintended would yield the most fruitful results.