Chapter 162: The Only Hope

Four infantry battalions?
Liu Suiyun’s suggestion was met with universal approval, especially from Sima Tai, who said bluntly, “Are the French planning to back down? With such limited reinforcements, they’re no match for us at all.”
A year ago, four French infantry battalions had been invincible enemies, but now, although they would still cost them dearly, they were merely a major hassle.
In the past two months, the French forces had suffered losses far exceeding those of several such battalions, and even this reinforcement couldn’t cover half of their losses. “Including this time, the French have only added six infantry battalions—three thousand men—in the past two months.”
“Could it be part of the first wave of reinforcements?” Jing Shiyi raised this question. “We should be cautious.”
“Mm,” Liu Suiyun summarized well, “If we maintain this level of reinforcement, we’ll win this war.”
His suggestion was endorsed by Lieutenant Colonel Bissel: “We need more troops, more reinforcements, more artillery.”
But Guoba said with a grim face, “This is all the reinforcement we can get. After those four infantry battalions arrive, no new troops will reach us within a month.”
Lieutenant Colonel Bissel complained angrily, “Yet Thanh Hóa received an entire infantry brigade, two infantry regiments, six more infantry regiments, along with their own artillery, engineers, and support personnel—a total of five thousand soldiers.”
“The enemy we face is far stronger than Thanh Hóa’s, yet in the past two months, we’ve only received thirty-five hundred reinforcements, including Annamese native infantry.”
“I know,” the rear admiral admitted painfully. “In fact, I personally think we should end this war.”
The war could no longer be continued. Four infantry battalions, 2,100 soldiers—seemingly a impressive force—but it wasn’t even a fraction of the losses in the Shanxi battle. According to statistics from that battle, 8,700 soldiers were lost in total, and that figure didn’t include those who were withdrawn wounded; it referred only to those killed, captured, or who fled.
In the subsequent counteroffensive by the Black Flag Army, they lost nearly another 3,000 men. The Algerian native infantry was nearly wiped out, several French companies suffered devastating losses, and the Foreign Legion suffered heavy casualties. As for the Vietnamese, they were already terrified by the Black Flag Army and fled at the first sign of trouble.
The only bright spot in this devastating battle was Lieutenant Colonel Bissel. For repelling the besieging Black Flag Army, he was promoted again to the rank of colonel—a remarkable rise, considering he had only been a captain last April.
But even Lieutenant Colonel Bissel admitted that the besieging Black Flag Army withdrew on their own, and his garrison lost one-third of its men. He urgently needed reinforcements: “Four battalions aren’t even enough to make up for our recent losses. But since this is all we can get, I hope to receive two more battalions.”

“That’s impossible. Although your defense forces are at the forefront of the Black Flag Army’s attacks,” Major General Gobat clearly realized this, “I can give you a thousand Remington rifles. You’ll need to recruit soldiers and train them yourself.”
“The Vietnamese? Though they’ve performed well in many situations, they’re no match for the Black Flag Army. I need combat-ready troops.”
“Major General, request reinforcements from Paris. The Black Flag Army has twenty elite battalions in the Tokyo region, while in Annam, there’s only one battalion.”
After countless attempts at whitewashing and modification, Gobat and most French people were forced to face reality. They had once referred to the Black Flag Army’s infantry battalions as regiments, but they had changed back to the former term.
After half a year of fighting, they came to know their opponent better. They realized that the core of the Black Flag Army’s combat strength lay in its about twenty infantry battalions, which were further organized into several regiments.
In addition, there were tens of thousands of local troops, but their combat effectiveness was low. Some of them were actually reorganized from the original Vietnamese army and were no match for the French forces.
The French forces’ only real opponent was these twenty infantry battalions. In Gobat’s view, their light weapons and lightly equipped artillery were first-rate even in Europe. After the battle of Shanxi, they acquired a large number of French-made artillery pieces.
Previously, they would drag along one 65-mm cannon, but now they would openly bring several breech-loading steel cannons to any battlefield to bombard the French forces, sometimes adding one or two 100-mm mortars as well.
As for those Annamite indigenous infantry, the Black Flag Army would attack them with machine guns and charge with bayonets. They still had the courage to hold their ground in fortifications, but once the cannons fired, they would scatter in disarray.
It was precisely for this reason that Gobat was determined to end this war. He even wrote his resignation letter, but his friends in Paris brought him bad news—the government still intended to continue the war.
And it was the worst option he had seen: neither a full national mobilization to wipe out the Black Flag Army’s twenty infantry battalions, nor a contraction policy. Instead, it was a cover-up, maintaining normal troop mobilization in Tonkin, with no more than 15,000 local troops, along with some Foreign Legion and African indigenous forces.
They wouldn’t allow withdrawals, arguing that it would damage the government’s reputation and affect France’s prestige among the great powers. But they also weren’t willing to send more troops, allowing the Black Flag Army to slowly weaken them with a blunt knife.
Gobat had no other choice. His friends made it clear to him that if he submitted his resignation letter, he would surely face a military court. His only option was to prolong the situation and wait for things to improve.
The government troops sent from the homeland and Africa were mostly deployed near Huế. Therefore, Colonel Bisselle angrily said, “The Black Flag Army we’re facing consists of twenty elite infantry battalions, plus twenty reserve battalions. They can replenish 2,500 soldiers per month and form two or three new elite infantry battalions. But how many do they have in Annam?”

“Including the indigenous troops, we have 5,000 soldiers in Huế, but how many does the Black Flag Army have? Only one infantry battalion can be considered elite; the rest of the reserve forces have combat strength equivalent to one infantry battalion. Yet they still sent an entire brigade.”
Faced with such an attack, Gobat could only defend Paris: “There’s a reason for that. According to our intelligence, four new infantry battalion units have appeared among the Black Flag Army forces in Annam.”
“Is that just their way of demanding reinforcements?”
Lieutenant Colonel Bissell was well aware of the huge gap in combat strength between the Black Flag Army in Central Annam and the troops in Tokyo, but Gobat brought up the latest news: “It’s been confirmed—four infantry battalions led by Liu Yongfu. It’s said the Black Flag bandits have also recruited thousands of new recruits in Annam. They plan to expand Liu’s forces to nine infantry battalions, equivalent to an entire division. When Liu moved south, he already brought enough weapons.”
“Damn that Battle of Shanxi.” Bissell realized only then that the man before him was the commander-in-chief of that battle. “But if an infantry brigade were sent to Hanoi, the enemy wouldn’t dare send Liu Yongfu south so boldly.”
Gobat agreed with this view, but he still had to defend Paris: “We will defeat the Black Flag Army as it advances south in Huế and secure victory in this war.”
Lieutenant Colonel Bissell knew arguing on this issue was pointless; what he needed was support: “In the past two months, over a third of my garrison has left the front lines. Although I’ve received some reinforcements, to ensure Hanoi’s safety, I must state that two infantry battalions is the minimum.”
“If you give me 1,000 Remington rifles, within three months, half of them will fall into the hands of the Black Flag Army. What I need are combat-ready troops.”
“You’ll get enough reinforcements in a month, but not now.” Gobat recognized another point: “The four combat-ready infantry battalions of the Black Flag Army have left Tokyo, and it will be difficult for them to fill such gaps in a short time.”
“You have a month to recruit indigenous soldiers and train them well. Any attacks launched by the enemy will be repelled by our reinforcements.”
“I’ll say just one thing, Commander—what I need are reinforcements.”
“That’s impossible. In fact, Hanoi won’t receive any reinforcements!”
“Why?”
“The enemy has also suffered heavy losses in the past two months, and they’ve sent an infantry brigade to the south. I believe they’re unable to launch a major offensive in the short term.”
“And Paris, given the dangerous situation in Tokyo, hopes we can achieve a glorious victory to bring good news to the French people… especially those MPs who oppose war.”
“Four infantry battalions? Open another front? That’s insane.”
“It’s one infantry brigade,” Gobat emphasized. “We will achieve a glorious victory, and Paris will send thousands of reinforcements because of it. That’s our only hope of winning.”
“We’ll break the deadlock there.”

“Bắc Ninh.” Guoba was against continuing the war, but Paris had a different view. The cabinet needed a dignified conquest campaign, a glorious victory to use to persuade Parliament, so that more troops could be sent to conquer Annam. They had forgotten that they had promised Parliament that just three thousand soldiers would be enough to conquer all of Vietnam. But Lieutenant Colonel Bissel was very interested in this idea: “Chinese troops?” “Yes,” Guoba said clearly. “Our only mission in the Hanoi area is to hold our ground at all costs.” “Once Hue and Bắc Ninh are decided, we will regain the initiative in this war.”