Chapter 548: The Ming-Portuguese War (II)

The 150-millimeter-caliber Wen telescope, manufactured in later generations, clearly fed the images of the Portuguese on the Macau fort back into the eyepiece.

This electronic telescope with a tripod was originally meant for observing the stars above, but now, used to watch the Red Hairs, it sees just as clearly.

The location of the Lotus Stem Pass Gate is actually near the later Macau port. This spot is no more than a straight-line distance of 2 kilometers from the Fortress of St. Paul, where the fort is located. This distance poses no problem whatsoever for the Wen telescope; an observer can, under good visibility, see every single move on the fort with perfect clarity.

The reason Assistant Commander Ma, looking through the lens, kept exclaiming in shock was simply a case of being easily amazed by the unfamiliar. After all, ancients were used to relying on shouting for communication; seeing clear figures and movements several li away all of a sudden naturally made it hard to contain his excitement.

"Heh heh, this oaf rose from the ranks of Colonel; his manner is rash. I must apologize for him, Lord Cao."

The one who could address Cao Regional Commander with such an equal attitude was, naturally, the top boss on the scene, He Rubin.

He Zhen, in full official robe, sat with a bold, commanding posture on a black ebony official's armchair. Of course, given He Zhen's status, he was definitely the C-position debut, seated at the very center among all the generals on the gate tower.

At this moment on the gate tower, aside from the guards and some merchant "Commandery Prestige" figures sitting silently and unnoticed in the corners, the main characters today were undoubtedly these military officers.

And seated beside He Zhen, the true mastermind behind this grand drama, Cao Regional Commander, upon hearing this, naturally responded with a few polite words: "Heh heh, Assistant Commander Ma is a man of true temperament — that is the very essence of us martial men!"

While inwardly despising the unsophisticated Assistant Commander Ma, He Zhen did not go over to the battlements to bend over and peer through the Wen telescope. Fortunately, the big boss had no shortage of fine toys in his own hands: a thick, large, high-powered military binoculars.

As his hands constantly toyed with the fine gadget, He Rubin's gaze was filled with deep fondness: "Truly formidable! These exotic craftsmen under Lord Cao's command are worth an entire army!"

Unlike those civil officials, most military officers, regardless of their outward demeanor, certainly did not privately look down on craftsmen — anyone who has personally swung a weapon and fought the enemy to the death will inevitably have a more profound understanding of a craftsman's importance.

Back when He Rubin served as Zhoushan Assistant Regional Commander and Deputy Regional Commander of Ningshao, he personally led his retainers in direct clashes against bandits and pirates within his jurisdiction. So now, after witnessing the telescope's marvel, he immediately grasped the crux of the matter: the master craftsmen from foreign lands.

He Rubin's understanding was correct. Because if the Great Ming possessed telescopes, as a high-ranking war zone Commander, he would have had one long ago. Therefore, this item must have been crafted by artisans invited by Lord Cao, who excelled at manufacturing ingenious devices, from beyond the realm.

Speaking of which, the profession most sensitive to technology, regardless of era, has often been the soldier. The one who uttered the famous line, "Qian Xuesen, wherever he goes, is worth five divisions. I would rather shoot him dead in America than let him leave," was none other than the U. S. Deputy Secretary of the Navy, Kimball...

"Your insight is profound, Daren."

Cao Regional Commander, standing nearby, nodded approvingly upon hearing this: "Manpower has its limits at times. Without relying on sturdy ships, great cannons, and divine weapons, how can one be certain of victory? Those scholars in the court sit and speak without aching backs, but we must lead our brothers into battle!"

"Heh heh, heh heh."

He Zhen, who had been in a rather confiding mood, immediately jolted alert upon hearing this roughneck beside him start shooting his mouth off about the court civil officials again. Not daring to chime in, he hastily raised his binoculars to resume sightseeing... That fellow Cao could spout off without a care, but Old He didn't have the guts — who asked him to be a man within the system?

After about another hour, once all the officers on the platform had taken turns looking through the telescope, today's official event was about to conclude. So Cao Regional Commander rose and called everyone to "go downstairs," preparing to move to a nearby town — the troops had already commandeered a large household's compound there as the logistics headquarters. If everyone set off now, they would arrive just in time for the noon banquet.

What, weren't they supposed to be fighting a war?

Even fighting a war requires preparation first. Although the Transmigrators' side had already mobilized troops and logistical supplies near the Gate Barrier, there were many aspects to consider in warfare — not just logistics, but also certain issues unique to this era, such as: wind direction.

Whether before or after arriving in this era, what the Transmigrators responsible for military affairs had never, ever expected was that the weather factor would become the foremost consideration before combat.

In later generations, humanity piloted satellites, nuclear submarines, stealth bombers, aircraft carriers, and main battle tanks, soaring through the sky, across the land, and in the deep sea. In that era, the impact of the natural environment on warfare had been minimized to the lowest possible level, something utterly unimaginable to people living in the seventeenth century.

Yet in this era, whether at sea or on land, a single great storm or dense fog could alter the outcome of a war. What the Transmigrators disliked, precisely, was windless or breezy weather.

It must be understood that the coming war was, strictly speaking, the first formal "gunpowder" war ever waged between the "Ming military forces" and the outside world. Both sides would employ vast quantities of black powder weapons, and the battlefield would be filled with enormous clouds of gunpowder smoke.

This war was very "formal," and the Transmigrators took it very seriously — and gunpowder smoke was what the Transmigrators detested most.

The reasoning was simple: the instinct of the stronger side is to minimize battlefield variables. For the weaker side, great winds, heavy rain, dense fog, and gunpowder smoke were all favorable conditions for a desperate reversal.

All along, the Transmigrators, who had expanded and glorified their gunpowder army, had, after countless large and small conflicts with natives over the years and at the cost of blood, distilled the most suitable combat experience for this current era: even if it meant ceding terrain, even if it meant accepting reduced accuracy and prolonged war duration, they must, as far as possible, choose weather with strong winds when fighting natives.

The Transmigrators' vision was rather long-term. In the years to come, their forces would be dispersed across the vast expanses of East Asia, South Asia, the Pacific Ocean, and North and South America. By then, there would be no drones or radar to undertake battlefield observation duties. So, starting now, they could not rely on those high-tech devices; they could not let this gunpowder army develop that habit. Everything must proceed, as much as possible, according to the existing path.

In that case, they had to wait for the wind.

In this asymmetrical war, since the Ming side held overwhelming numerical and geographical advantages, the Portuguese had no real depth. Now, the Frankish devils had already turtled up inside their fort and city, sitting and waiting for the enemy to come knocking.

However, the Portuguese entrenched on Macau Island then spent the first day of the war somewhat inexplicably — a first day without a single gunshot.

But the Portuguese quickly realized: the other side was not yet ready.

And so this strange sitting war began. All quiet on the southern front?

Fortunately, this situation did not last long. After all, the battlefield was located right on the coast, so finding windy weather was not difficult.

Thus, two more days passed, and on this morning, the rumbling of cannon fire finally sounded from the direction of Lotus Stem.

The several days of preparation time had been sufficient for the "Official Army" to transport several large cannons overland from Xiangshan County to the Macau Barrier Gate. The reason the cannons were not directly landed at the wharf beside the Gate Barrier was purely because the wooden plank wharf there was too flimsy to bear their weight.

In this way, the various gentlemen and Commandery Prestige figures who had come to the gate tower early in the morning to enjoy the mountain scenery could finally experience the true atmosphere of gunpowder warfare today.

The artillery duel had already begun the moment the sun rose.

The cannon that fired the first shot was an 18-pounder standard naval gun produced by the Kiln District Foundry.

This cannon opened fire from a gun position 500 meters in front of the Gate Barrier.

After spewing white smoke, flame, and a thunderous roar, a black speck visible to the naked eye flew into the air. Under the gaze of countless people, the speck, moving deceptively fast, traversed a distance of 1500 meters and plunged headlong into the Portuguese's great fort, thereafter falling silent.

Yet a few minutes later, the distant fort responded. A thin plume of white smoke rose, followed by the sound of cannon fire. An identical iron ball crossed the distance and smashed down over 100 meters in front of the position.

However, the impact point of this Portuguese cannonball was far off the mark. For a standard gun position with hardened ground and surrounded by sandbags, it posed no threat whatsoever.

The next moment, the Artillery Company Commander, having received his orders, began commanding the other cannons already in position to commence bombardment of the enemy.

Upon witnessing this scene, a wave of relaxed chatter immediately arose from the previously quiet gate tower.

The guests had been somewhat apprehensive before. Strictly speaking, these native military officers had never experienced a formal artillery duel. Yet the Franks of Macau were experts in using cannons; the Great Ming had been buying cannons from them for some time, and had even salvaged cannons from shipwrecks to send to the capital, where they received official titles.

So when everyone saw the opening shot gain the upper hand, their spirits could not help but relax a little.

"The cannons are sharp, my friend. You did not deceive me." Even the C-position big boss, He Zhen, now wore a face full of smiles: "However, in my humble opinion, today's gun positions seem somewhat lacking... Knowing your usual style, my friend, could it be you are hiding some of your true strength?"

"Hahaha! Brother Yinzhi has seen through it. Brilliant, truly brilliant!"

Zhang Dongdong, giving a thumbs-up, now genuinely felt a bit of admiration for He Rubin. Worthy of a man who had authored military manuals — he spotted anything amiss at a single glance.

The cannons currently arrayed before the Gate Barrier numbered eight in total. These eight cannons varied in caliber, basically covering all the artillery models currently in active service among the Transmigrators.

In other words, these eight cannons, transported overland today, were actually here for testing and firepower reconnaissance. After all, no one knew exactly how far the cannons on the opposing fort could reach, how powerful they were, or how many there were.

So where was the Transmigrators' real artillery unit?

The next moment, Cao Regional Commander pulled back the thick, wide sleeve of his official robe, glanced at the Rolex on his wrist, then extended a hand, pointing at the sea surface ahead and to the left: "Brother Yinzhi, do not be impatient. The cannons are coming."