Chapter 193: The Catalyst

“This was a successful transportation operation, fully demonstrating the intelligence and courage of French officers and soldiers. Despite objective constraints, remarkable results were achieved. For the first time, two-thirds of the troops were safely transported to Hanoi under enemy threat—a moment worthy of being recorded in the history of the world’s navies…”
1886, Naval Ministry of the French Republic, *A Brief History of the Sino-French War*

“It must be noted that the Black Flag Army lacked much fighting spirit against the French forces at that time; they focused their efforts on conflicts with the Qing army. For example, the French organized a reinforcement mission to Hanoi, and it proceeded without any obstacles…”
United States of the People’s Republic, publication date unknown, *The Truth About the Black Flag Army: My Accusations*

But the bureaucrats in the Paris Naval Ministry were different. After taking a first look at the scene, Gobat could only shout, “Who did this? Who was responsible?”

“This was a successful naval operation. We transported two-thirds of our troops to Hanoi, providing significant support for its defense…” Major General Mason continued using formal wording: “Of course, due to objective limitations, there were some shortcomings…”

But when he saw Major General Gobat’s gaze turn to the battered army soldiers, he had to say, “It was the Black Flag Army who did this!”

Indeed, we made no mistakes—every failure stemmed from the strength of the Black Flag Army.

Major General Gobat wanted to curse, but he could only stare helplessly at the soldiers disembarking from the ships.

“Although nearly a thousand men were lost, there are still two thousand soldiers at your disposal to command. They will deal a heavy blow to the enemy!”

Yet Major General Mason’s voice also grew subdued. Under his command, the French lost nearly a thousand soldiers, almost all of them French citizens. “I will do my best to provide further assistance!”

“God!” Gobat’s eyes filled with tears. “In the name of our shared identity as naval officers, I make one last request: never conduct such transports again!”

He saw clearly that this kind of transport went far beyond mere waste of resources. “I ask—where are our ammunition? Where are our cannons? Where is our food? Where are our supplies?”

After being targeted by the Black Flag Army’s snipers, the French arrived in Hanoi with almost nothing—only a rifle, a few dozen bullets, and some dry rations.

“That’s all they had when they boarded the ships… This is all we could do…” Major General Mason explained helplessly. “We did our utmost!”

But in the eyes of commander Gobat, all he saw was desolation.

When had France fallen to this state? Nearly a thousand young lives sacrificed just to transport some basic infantry to Hanoi.

“I must say—I never want to see such transports happen again!”

“Although this is a defensive battle, without ammunition, artillery, supplies, heavy equipment, or support, we have nothing but pointless sacrifices…”
His words were somewhat harsh, but they turned out to be true. Though the French managed to send two thousand soldiers to Hanoi, within a week, half of these lightly armed infantrymen were lost.
The reason they lost only half was entirely due to those five hundred indigenous troops from West African colonies, who, by sheer luck, suffered little damage during transport. But once they arrived at the battlefield in Hanoi, they became a problem again—not for the Black Flag Army, but for France itself. The French had to admit that these indigenous soldiers were completely useless and caused them too many troubles.
Yet they dared not send them into battle, as doing so might set a record for the highest number of French soldiers killed by the Black Flag Army. They could only use these indigenous soldiers as laborers.
But the same report meant completely different things to different people.
“This is one of the greatest operations of the navy during the war!”
For bureaucrats, what mattered was the result, not the process. They only saw one set of numbers: two thousand soldiers successfully delivered to Hanoi.
This was the source of all hope, so the Navy did its utmost to gather all available troops in the Far East, trying to send them all to Hanoi—or hell—via such rapid transports.
They cared only about the result, but the Governor-General of Indochina understood the situation better than those in Paris.
“Good heavens! How can they act so recklessly? Such troops are worse than no reinforcements at all!”
He couldn’t understand why some French people were so enthusiastic about such a pointless, even pro-enemy, endeavor!
He was still under pressure as the Black Flag Army launched offensives again in South and Central Vietnam, causing heavy casualties among the French forces on both fronts.
At this point, he understood the truth—that when allies abandon you and everyone else flees, if his side was still to win the war, it could only be because the commanders of the Black Flag Army had lost their minds.
But the longer the war lasted, the more respect he felt for the commanders of the Black Flag Army, especially their commander, Liu Yu.
Over a year ago, the Black Flag Army was just a small force of six thousand men. Yet a year later, it had extended its influence to every corner of Vietnam. Optimistically, French colonial rule might last only about two more years.
Some in the cabinet called for sending an army corps to Vietnam, but the Governor-General of Indochina knew it was impossible—far beyond France’s military and economic capabilities.
He pondered all this: “Perhaps I’ll face trial, but I must do something for my country.”

Parisian newspapers—some left-wing, some right-wing, some royalist—some advocating patriotism, others promoting liberalism—but regardless, the top story in newspapers today is always the war. Two wars with no hope of victory! Just as in history, France was engaged in two wars at the same time during this period: the Madagascar War and the Indochina War, neither of which achieved perfect outcomes in history. Yet the headlines in newspapers continue to discuss the cabinet’s insane plan: “Remember, France is your homeland, Monsieur Ferré!” “Is Vietnam Alsace or Lorraine?” The government is in a precarious situation yet miraculously hasn’t collapsed, alongside which there is an astonishingly low level of public support. As for crushing those already defeated, all editors are more than willing to do so—not only to boost circulation but also to secure resources from the government later. But one day, several editors were studying these reports and hesitated. “This might involve military secrets…” “It could affect the outcome of the war…” “Should we publish it?” In fact, it wasn’t any important document; it was just a report from Haiphong detailing how many troops were sent to Hanoi each time, how many actually arrived, and how many sailors were lost along the way. A perfectly normal report, but its conclusions were unbearable for the naval bureaucrats—over three thousand men died or were injured en route. The public couldn’t understand the significance of Hanoi; they simply saw such actions as meaningless: “So many young lives…” “We should end this war…” “Maybe we should drop a bomb!” The editor-in-chief finally said, “For circulation, even if it’s a military secret, we must report it…” For newspapers, no sense of responsibility matters more than circulation—just look at other newspapers. A third-rate tabloid, by reporting first on the Black Flag Army’s destruction of two French brigades, saw its circulation soar to rank among the top six in the country. Although the military later claimed they hadn’t suffered such heavy losses, everyone knew they had profited. The pressure of competition forced them to abandon all responsibility, putting everything at the service of circulation. With the editor’s decision, they resolved to write the most sensational article possible. All they needed was circulation and a sensational effect. But the naval ministry was unaware of this; all they knew was that Hanoi was in danger and more reinforcements needed to be sent there. Once the reinforcements arrived, they felt they owed no responsibility. They were aware of Hanoi’s strained supplies and that it had become a brutal battlefield, and they knew the French artillery didn’t dare to fire, yet they still sent large numbers of almost defenseless infantry to Hanoi. “Boom… boom… boom…” Outside Hanoi, several old-fashioned twelve-pound and six-pound bronze cannons began firing, as the Black Flag Army now firmly held the advantage in artillery.

The French troops didn’t dare to show their heads—they would be subjected to fierce artillery fire the moment they did. The leaders of the irregular armed forces watched this with satisfaction as they drove their soldiers forward. The Black Flag Army held back for them, ensuring that even if this assault failed, they would only suffer light casualties. Moreover, under the command of the Black Flag Army, they reaped many benefits. They knew how to organize attacks, how to unleash firepower, and how to launch fierce assaults. As long as they eliminated the enemy in front of them, most of the spoils would go to them. In recent days, they had a vague sense that the battles were going more smoothly—not only because their own troops were gaining experience but also due to another critical factor: the French army’s combat effectiveness had declined. The French troops they had encountered before were almost all fully armed with advanced equipment, but those they met recently were nothing but pure light infantry, with many soldiers not even having bayonets or enough rifle bullets. It was only by questioning prisoners that they learned that upon boarding the ships, aside from their military uniforms and rations, they were only given rifles and 120 bullets, which they had already used up by the time they reached their destination. At the start of the battle, the French forces in Hanoi had large amounts of ammunition and supplies, but as the battle progressed, most of these were either captured by the Black Flag Army or exhausted in combat. For this reason, the defenders of Hanoi saw the newly arrived troops as a heavy burden—these troops not only failed to bring any supplies but also took a large portion of what little the defenders still had. Ye Chenglin watched the less intense battlefield in the distance and said with a smile, “If nothing goes wrong, we can end this battle in the short term!” He was also surprised by the French army’s desperate attempts to reinforce their forces, but he soon had to admit that Liu Yu was right—on the battlefield, flesh and blood cannot compete with a powerful enemy armed with steel. These pure light infantry failed to demonstrate their intended combat strength, and he couldn’t understand this fact. If it had been last year at this time, when the Black Flag Army hadn’t been fully mobilized and its combat strength was weak, the French army’s desperate efforts to send troops to Hanoi would have crushed them, even if there had been ten Black Flag Army units instead of one. But now that the outcome of the war was decided, the French were recklessly sacrificing lives—even if they survived and reached this city reduced to ruins by artillery, they would have little combat strength left. Liu Yu then raised another question: “I wonder how long the French have been defending this city?” “It’s been 37 days since we entered the city limits!” “Great enemies!” Liu Yu rarely praised anyone, but he said, “Yet the victors are still us!” “Yes, the victors are still us!” Ye Chenglin thought of another issue: “Should we slow down and lure more French troops in?” Commanders always welcomed the enemy’s recklessness, and their continued stupidity was what commanders cherished the most.

After the first successful rapid transport, the French Navy at Haiphong organized several more such shipments, each time successfully delivering troops to Hanoi, with one even achieving a record of only a dozen casualties. During this period, they also attempted a larger convoy combining transport ships and warships, but suffered heavy losses and were forced to switch to transporting light infantry. At this point, Ye Chenglin couldn’t help but admire Liu Yu’s foresight. He even suspected that after realizing they couldn’t quickly deal with the French forces, Liu Yu had made this battlefield the final arena to drain France’s spirit, tightening the noose around them time and again. Liu Yu had almost perfectly fulfilled the role of a campaign organizer—no, even better than anyone could have imagined. At the start of the battle, the Black Flag Army’s units were severely depleted, while the French forces were well-prepared and still full of energy. But by now, the situation had completely turned in their favor. Ye Chenglin clearly realized that even against a commander like Napoleon, there was nothing else to do but rationally raise the white flag in such a situation. As for Liu Yu, his strategy was almost perfect; there were even jokes among people like Ye Chenglin: “We can wipe out an entire army!” Given the situation in Hanoi, this was highly possible. Now, France, just like Germany in Tunisia, was sending straw to its troops in a desperate situation, only to lose everything in the end. As for frontline commanders like Shen Sheng, they were thinking about more profound issues. According to the Black Flag Army’s tradition, after capturing Hanoi, they might expand their forces again. So, in this new expansion, how would everyone’s positions be arranged? Especially veteran officers like Sima Tai were eager to see if they could advance further. The sound of artillery continued to boom violently, but Liu Yu and his officers remained calm—they were mourning a legend on the verge of dying. It wasn’t until Liu Yu turned around that a messenger waiting nearby brought news: “Commander, there’s fresh news from Mr. Tang in Taiyuan…” “After our army’s two retreats, the Qing forces once again provoked our Black Flag Army in Beining, occupying six of our villages and firing dozens of rifle shots at us…” Liu Yu simply asked, “Were there any casualties?” “One minor injury. Our army did not return fire!” “How many times has this happened?” “It’s the third time!” “I thought it would be three concessions!” That was all he said. For Tang Jingsong, however, he was frantic: “We’ve already conceded three times—three times! If we keep conceding, we’ll have to give up all of Shanxi…” In just over a year, Tang Jingsong had seen himself as the leader of the Black Flag Army, his interests completely tied to it: “We need reinforcements! We need at least five battalions of reinforcements; otherwise, how can we deal with Pan Dingxin and Wang Debang?”

Many of the Black Flag Army commanders in Beining were former Qing soldiers who highly valued the combat effectiveness of the Qing army and strongly agreed with Tang Jingsong’s view: “Yes, we must have reinforcements. Wang Debang, Su Yuanchun, and even Pan Dingxin are among the best generals in the world; it will be difficult for us to deal with them!”
Tang Jingsong was thinking of something else: “When the commander ordered me to return to Taiyuan, he told me to yield three times. We’ve already yielded to Wang Debang three times—there’s no way we can yield a fourth time!”
But he knew nothing about military affairs, let alone strategy: “Right now, our army has only eight battalions, while Pan Dingxin already has forty or fifty. Fighting against a stronger force with fewer troops means no chance of victory. Should we prepare in advance?”
He mentioned defeat before victory, trying to leave himself a backdoor exit, but this idea immediately sparked widespread resistance: “Although the Qing army is strong, we’re not easy prey!”
“Right! Even if we retreat, we must fight first!”
“When will the battles in Hanoi end?”
Just as everyone was discussing this, someone rushed over shouting, “Another five battalions of the Qing army have entered Beining. So Wang Debang has gathered his forces and continued his advance northward. When we tried to negotiate with them, they fired thousands of bullets at us, causing some casualties. Our troops are now asking for strategies!”
“Fight!” Tang Jingsong was the last to want to say this word, but now others were pressing him: “We have no choice but to fight!”
“Everyone, give it your all! I, Tang, won’t fail you!”
Nominally, he was still a subject of the Qing dynasty, and deep down, he still harbored a slight loyalty to them. But once he uttered the word “fight,” he had no way back.
At this point, he had no choice.
It could be said that the morale of the Black Flag Army was quite high. Although many of its members were former Qing officers, they quickly rallied their spirits, no longer seeing themselves as subjects of the Qing but as part of the Black Flag Army: “We’re willing to serve our lord!”
On the other side of the battlefield, Wang Debang was even more confident: “These mere Black Flag Army troops dare to stand in our way? I’ve fought thousands of miles across the country—how could these scattered remnants stop me?”
He was already convinced that a few battalions of the Black Flag Army posed no real threat. Only by quickly eliminating these rebels could he restore order in Hanoi.
One battalion officer asked first, “Lord, if we withdraw from the flanks and launch a full-scale attack on the Black Flag Army, isn’t that reckless?”
“What’s there to fear?” Wang Debang saw clearly that to the left were French troops, who didn’t even have the ability to defend themselves, let alone attack the Qing army. On the right were Pan Dingxin’s five battalions of Ding Army and several battalions of Gui Army—still just a few thousand men. Even if the Black Flag Army launched a counterattack, it would take at most a few days!
None of this was a problem. What concerned him instead was that seemingly unimportant external factor.
“Have we found an insider among the Black Flag Army?”
In his view, since he had the numerical advantage, if he could also get the desired insider from the Black Flag Army, he would have a chance of winning.

The key lies in whether this insider can succeed. For this insider, he has spent not only money and time but everything else as well. However, the reward he should receive must be substantial. “As long as we win this battle, Wang Debang will also be remembered for generations to come and surely attain a position of nobility!” His eyes moved as he envisioned a glorious future. “Rest assured! I’ve done everything possible to bring them here. Although there is a place for us in the Black Flag Army, the leader Liu Yu has always been ungrateful and neglectful toward his subordinates. If it weren’t for the fact that my brothers respect his loyalty to the Qing Dynasty, they would have severed ties with him long ago!” “Now that the royal army has arrived, we are all willing to submit to them and work together to achieve great things!” Between the Black Flag Army and the Qing Dynasty, Tang Jingsong chose the Black Flag Army, but some of the lower-ranking members who once belonged to it gave up their historical opportunities and sided with the Qing forces. History will show how their choices will affect the course of history—even though they are just insignificant people, no matter what they choose, it won’t change that fact.