Chapter 552: The Ming-Portuguese War (VI)

Seeing the Portuguese vanish from the city wall, leaving only gun positions smashed and staggering, He Rubin lowered his telescope, shook his head, and said to General Cao beside him with a face full of emotion: "Bullying the weak with overwhelming force — Lord Cao, this siegecraft of yours is truly formidable! Still, what's being hurled out there is all silver... in just a little while, I fear over ten thousand catties of cannonballs have been thrown, no? Ah, this craft of yours, Lord — this general can hardly hope to learn it."

Zhang Dongdong, a transmigrator, burst out laughing at these words, feeling as if someone had just scratched his itch.

Using the advanced knowledge one possesses to produce resources beyond the era, and then in turn transforming society — isn't that the very meaning of crossing over?

Although the industrial setup the transmigrators had painstakingly built was still far inferior to a later-generation county-level industrial zone, in this plane of existence, having cannons that could fire continuously and relatively abundant iron shot held the same significance for the age as cutting-edge weapons did for later eras.

In the Gulf War, guided missiles of every type were as numerous as ox hairs; among them, the famous Tomahawk cruise missiles alone — the US military fired several hundred... each one costing a million dollars to produce. Now, these several hundred iron eggs launched at Lotus Stem carried the same weight; in the low-productivity seventeenth century, these were the Tomahawks.

So Zhang Dongdong, his itch thoroughly scratched, was in excellent spirits and laughed heartily as he said: "What words are these, my Lord. We're all brothers stirring from the same pot — if you but point the way, how could my cannon battalion dare not serve you?"

He Rubin appeared all smiles: "Hehe, then this general shall take note of these words of yours, Pokong."

Just as the worthies atop the gate tower were "appraising the art of gunnery," a new round of strikes began below the wall. A dark mass of cannonballs flew toward the sky in what seemed like slow motion, and in the end, the majority landed on the enemy city wall, smashing everything into chaos.

Although this scene of ferocious bombardment had already played out many rounds today, He Rubin, who had spent half a lifetime at war, still could never see enough of it.

He Zhen at this moment wore a blank expression, but his feelings were extremely complicated. There was the thirst of a professional soldier for new military technology, and also the political unease of the Guangdong Regional Commander toward the military strongman Cao Chuan. Of course, a faint sourness was certainly there too — as a high-ranking officer, who wouldn't want to command a cannon battalion that, once unleashed, could overturn mountains and seas?

In the end, after confirming the Portuguese were not returning fire, He Zhen asked lightly in a tone tinged with sourness: "The Red Hairs likely dare not show their heads now — does my Lord have instruction for me?"

Was there even any need to ask about this situation? Any shut-in from later generations would know exactly what to do! So Zhang Dongdong, a faint smile on his face, delivered a wave of understated posturing: "Artillery destroys, infantry occupies."

As General Cao's words fell from atop the Gate Barrier, at the same moment, as if receiving the command in perfect synchronization, squads of fully armed soldiers wheeled out from behind the Gate Barrier.

The number of soldiers was not small; a single sweep of the eye from the officers on the tower put it at roughly 1,000 men. These soldiers had a uniform appearance: wearing the newest model of khaki hunting jackets, broad-brimmed canvas sun-shading cowboy hats on their heads, long-barreled firearm guns on their backs, and an Eighteen Chop machete copied from the US military hanging at the waist — in this era, they could be called superbly equipped.

A superbly equipped force could only be the Pioneer Army.

Considering that in the years to come, the Pioneer Army, as the power base's reach, would certainly be the first to deal with colonial ruffians in the South Seas, South Africa, South America, and Europe, the task of attacking the Fortaleza do Monte this time naturally fell to none other than the Pioneer Army.

To put it plainly, it was still training troops.

The Army high command's intent was very clear: it wasn't necessarily about achieving any particular result, but the Pioneer Army was to use this opportunity to gain at least a basic understanding of European-style barbettes and European firearms.

So today's first round of infantry assault would be carried out by the Pioneer Army. As for what came after — that would depend on the situation.

Very quickly, columns marching in neat steps passed through the Gate Barrier one after another, then began forming up near the artillery positions. At the same time, the onlookers gathered around grew excited. By now, anyone could see the official army was about to attack the city, and a murmur of hushed whispers rose everywhere.

As for the Pioneer Army, the Ming people did not know much about its background. The forces the Ming people were most familiar with nowadays were the Navy, which appeared daily in public view patrolling the rivers and seas in white and blue uniforms, and the Army in olive-green uniforms.

Although He Rubin did not understand the internal structure of the "Cao Army," as the local Regional Commander, he had at least grasped a portion of the publicly available information on all military forces within his jurisdiction. So when he saw this motley-looking unit, he was also slightly surprised: "This force moves with discipline — could it be the Darao Vanguard Battalion?"

Zhang Dongdong's mood at this moment was still very proud: even the insufficiently trained Pioneer Army counted as elite troops in the eyes of native soldiers. So he explained plainly: "It's the local militia. A few days ago, for the bandit suppression campaign, we recruited some local hands and drilled them — these are they."

"Oh..."

He Rubin leaned back upon hearing this, his face betraying no expression.

In truth, Old He was inwardly quite dismissive.

In his view, since such a great cost had already been spent in the early phase to pound the Portuguese into cowering rats, now was the time to send in the elites and storm the fortifications in one surge of momentum — Old He could not quite grasp General Cao's thinking.

Yet he was in no position to argue with the man surnamed Cao. After all, this war from start to finish had nothing to do with the Guangdong Ming Army; from planning to funds, grain, and private troops, everything came from the Zhangchao Regional Command, so Old He, as a guest, had no way to discuss anything in depth with Cao Chuan as a "participant."

So he could only keep a straight face and continue watching.

The 1,000 Pioneer Army soldiers formed two square formations. At this moment, at the rear of the back formation, Wu Sanye was nervously standing on tiptoe, craning his neck to look ahead.

The Pioneer Army, which appeared to have orderly ranks in the eyes of Ming natives, was in fact far from it. This unit was insufficiently trained, and its internal structure leaned toward that of a mercenary force, unlike a regular army, so its military bearing and discipline fell a notch short.

This was also why Third Lord could look around so brazenly. Besides, Third Lord had now been promoted — in light of his successful capture of the bandit chief in the last battle, Third Lord was now a Deputy Company Commander, with over fifty brothers under him.

Third Lord and his men had been transferred to Xiangshan County five days ago. After that, as more and more troops gathered, the various lords in the Pioneer Army also received their definitive orders: take the Red Hair City at Haojing'ao.

After that, detailed intelligence on Macau and the Portuguese military, bearing the distinctive mark of transmigrators, flowed continuously before everyone's eyes.

After studying this intelligence and combining it with his own experience in the Edo, in the end, after much deliberation with Young Master Yusheng, Third Lord concluded that the Red Hairs could not be taken lightly. So this time he chose to yield and gave up the main assault mission.

The Pioneer Army, a military force in the form of mercenaries, was filled inside with one clique after another. This time, the main assault mission that Red Man Wu Sanye yielded was immediately snatched up by other cliques.

This outcome was perfectly normal: after the series of operations they had experienced before, the Pioneer Army's internal hunger for military merit was now extremely intense. Because military merit was hard currency, a genuinely good thing that could make a man rich — Wu Sanye's own clique from before was the example.

So today, Wu Sanye and the brothers under him stood at the rear of the square formation, yielding the good task of charging into the fray to others.

Next, after the artillery array ahead fired two more concentrated salvos, the first square formation, composed of 500 men, began to slowly move.

After advancing roughly 500 meters, the square formation, under the officers' command, expanded its area. The soldiers not only spread apart from one another, but the ranks also gradually staggered, forming row after row of separate parallel lines.

This was done out of necessity. Since the Pioneer Army was still using muzzle-loading rifles, they had to ensure volley fire by squad. But the formation then also had to defend against cannon and gunfire, so they could only adopt this staggered horizontal line formation.

Under the gaze of the crowd, the reorganized 500 soldiers slowly came to a halt at a position only 200 meters from the enemy fort. At this moment, everything fell silent; the countless Ming people behind the square formation held their breath, and the atmosphere of the entire battlefield seemed to have frozen solid.

The next moment, with a sharp, piercing blast of an iron whistle, the 500 Pioneer Army soldiers let out a unified shout and charged swiftly toward the opposite side. After advancing roughly another 100 meters, some of the pre-arranged horizontal lines now stood fixed in place and began firing somewhat ragged volleys toward the seemingly deserted enemy ramparts.

Yet the ramparts opposite remained empty and deserted the whole time — had the Red Hair Franks truly been scared out of their wits by round after round of mindless shelling?

The truth soon emerged: just at the moment the foremost attackers were about to rush beneath the city wall, suddenly, from the barbette's front face and its left and right projecting bastions, every single crenel sprouted Portuguese soldiers wearing tricorne hats. Immediately after, a row of white smoke burst forth — the ramparts had opened fire.

At such close shooting range, combined with the advantage of high ground, the effect of the Portuguese volley fire was extremely pronounced. The soldiers who had already charged beneath the wall were instantly mowed down in swathes by bullets from left and right, while the soldiers following behind were also stripped away by one layer from the bullets coming head-on.

This was not the end. The Portuguese had clearly loaded all their spare firearms with powder and shot beforehand, and so a second round of volley fire immediately rang out. Amid the excited roars of the marksmen on the ramparts, the attackers were stripped away by yet another layer.

Although volley fire also rang out from the attacking side, in this kind of exchange, the defenders, exposing only a single head, clearly held the advantage. Thus the Pioneer Army's first assault was forced to unfold under the enemy's dense bullets. Fortunately, the Pioneer Army's morale was relatively high, so after enduring the first few salvos, quite a few soldiers managed to gain a foothold beneath the city wall, taking advantage of the billowing gunpowder smoke.

However, gunpowder smoke was something the defending side could actually make use of as well — in the chaotic state of confrontation, no one noticed several cannon muzzles slowly extending through the crenels within the smoke, aiming at the Pioneer Army lines 100 meters away that were in the midst of reloading.