Chapter 466: Breaking the Formation

The seventh year of the Chongzhen reign, the eleventh day of the third month, high noon.

A fierce wind had brought the night's chill, then scattered with the sunrise. The northwest's venomous sun soon blazed so white-hot it turned the desert and gobi into a steamer basket shimmering with layered mirages, and the soldiers trudging through the wilderness were like buns about to be steamed through.

The army under Zhao Zhirui had endured days of rain-soaking and sun-scorching. Even the warhorses' strides had grown heavy, yet the soldiers on horseback still tirelessly scoured the desert for any sign of the enemy.

Frontier troops all share a mindset bordering on stubborn fixation. They know foul weather intimately, and so they firmly believe foul weather is a good friend — the more miserable the wind and rain and the more exhausted they are, the more vulnerable their enemy becomes.

Because Heaven is fairest on the battlefield: every unbearable condition they suffer is inflicted on the enemy just the same. They are convinced that they are hardier warriors than their opponents.

Yet even with that stubborn pride propping up their spirits, Zhao Zhirui's soldiers could not help looking deflated. No matter how they searched the great desert south of the Long Wall, they could not find the infantry camp Zhang Tianlin had left behind.

Zhao Zhirui was deeply disheartened. He had wanted to strike Zhang Tianlin's infantry camp not merely to win a battle — there was, in truth, a strong entrepreneurial streak to it.

A military officer should not be an entrepreneur. Entrepreneurship means wealth, and a military officer already holds military power — if he also holds wealth, does that not make him a warlord? But at root, the whole thing came down to poverty.

The court was in arrears on military pay. Elsewhere, they could conscript military households or even pocket the pay of phantom soldiers, but here in Gansu, especially in Suzhou, the generals were simply too hamstrung to pull off the phantom-soldier trick... With Liu Chengzong rising in Qinghai and both Choketu Taiji and Ligdan Khan swarming in, the soldiers and officers of Suzhou knew they would have to fight sooner or later.

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To maintain combat effectiveness on limited pay, the generals had to bleed the soldiers dry to support a core of higher-quality troops.

Gansu, however, was a special case as a military garrison, and with the mountains high and the Emperor far away, the Supreme Commander not only controlled local military affairs but also civil administration. Elsewhere, mutinies over pay pitted soldiers against officers and usually ended with the Supreme Commander killed. In Gansu, when mutinies over pay erupted, the Supreme Commander and the soldiers stood on the same side — they generally killed the Grand Coordinator instead.

This unique geography gave birth to a new mode of production: trade.

Zhao Zhirui's startup capital was the thirty percent of military pay the court actually disbursed to the Suzhou Garrison. He split this money three ways. First, he gave one share to the soldiers.

Of the remaining two shares, one went to buy grain, to win the soldiers' hearts during festivals and holidays. The last share was entrusted to merchant caravans, to sell goods as far as Hami, Turpan, and even Yarkent.

This was not something Zhao Zhirui could pull off alone. His official rank was not low, but his previous postings had all been in Shaanxi and Shanxi; his roots in Gansu were very shallow. Thus he was only a minor shareholder. The big backer was Chai Shihua, the Mobile Corps Commander of the Gansu Supreme Commander's Guard Battalion.

Though both held the rank of Mobile Corps Commander, Chai Shihua was the son of Chai Guozhu. Of the old Chai family's four men across two generations, three had died for the court, leaving only this last single heir. The officers of Hexi, mindful of old General Chai's kindness to his former troops, all gave him face — not something a poor old man like Zhao Zhirui could compare to.

This Silk Road belonging to the Gansu frontier generals did not bring Zhao Zhirui much wealth, nor could it fully offset the enormous shortfall in military pay, but it did genuinely broaden his horizons and his way of thinking.

His most important motive for wanting to strike the large infantry battalion Zhang Tianlin had left behind was to seize Zhang Tianlin's army provisions. Only by devouring Zhang Tianlin's provisions could he give Zhang Tianlin an even stronger urge to plunder, and only then could they obtain more spoils of war.

But now, unable to find Zhang Tianlin's infantry camp and with the afternoon already passing, his mood grew frantic: his startup had failed!

And how could it not be a failure? He had not eaten Zhang Tianlin's grain, yet two forts and one camp in his own defense sector had been looted by Zhang Tianlin. No matter how you calculated it, he was in the red.

Life is full of disappointments. Crestfallen, Zhao Zhirui led his troops toward the direction of Linshui Post Town, thinking to first rendezvous with Mi Layin. If Zhang Tianlin pursued, they would fight him first; if not, even better — they would have a safe place to eat.

What he was searching for was Wang Ziyong, whom Zhang Tianlin had dumped outside the border wall. Without going beyond the wall, he would certainly never find him. Relatively speaking, though, finding Zhang Tianlin's position was very easy.

And Zhang Tianlin was looking precisely for him. With Suo Kang feeding him intelligence, the matter was all too simple.

Just past noon, Zhang Tianlin's men pinpointed the exact location of Zhao Zhirui's force. Immediately, Feng Dakui, the Vanguard Battalion Commander, returned to Zhang Tianlin to report: "General, we've found them. However... I see their marching formation is strict and orderly. I fear a direct assault will not be easy. Should we wait for a better opportunity?"

Zhang Tianlin slowly shook his head. Lashing his horse, he galloped past the battle lines and up a sand dune, surveying the Suzhou Garrison frontier troops' formation from afar.

Three columns, each separated by fifty paces, stretched a line less than two li long along the desert's edge. Scout riders fanned out around them. They marched with clear discipline. In every column were soldiers without armor, in half-armor, and in full armor, leading their horses by the reins and trudging eastward with heads bowed.

The Suzhou Garrison's march was a state of combat readiness. They were on guard against a sudden attack. An enemy this prepared is very difficult to rout in a short time.

Zhang Tianlin's lips twitched in a mirthless smirk. That he had been able to lead third-rate peasant soldiers to survive the early chaotic battles of the Shaanbei Uprising, and repeatedly escape alive from converging attacks by various Mobile Corps Generals and Defense Commanders, was thanks to second-rate mobility and first-rate battlefield instinct.

He knew what his opponent wanted to do and where his opponent wanted to go. That was how he could lead his force to safety and snatch survival from the tiger's jaws.

In fact, at this very moment, in his heart, the better the performance of Zhao Zhirui's frontier troops and the more thorough their preparations against a sudden attack, the fiercer his resolve to attack became.

The overwhelming majority of generals who rose from peasant armies have a powerful gambling mentality. The same military principle, in the minds of a regular army general and a peasant army general, can very easily produce diametrically opposite interpretations.

Even when the same fleeting window of opportunity is at stake, a regular army general might wait for a better moment, while a peasant army general will, to a large extent, boldly take the gamble.

This had little to do with Zhang Tianlin's own regular-army background. In his career leading troops, missing one opportunity usually meant no better opportunity ever came.

"The Grand Marshal is just beyond the pass. Our mission is to pin down the enemy forces inside the pass. The Suzhou Garrison has split into two routes. One part has already entered Linshui Post. These fifteen hundred cavalry are also moving toward Linshui Post Town. The Ganzhou Army to the east is presumably already on its way."

Zhang Tianlin raised his whip on the dune to point across the battlefield and said to his subordinates: "If fifteen hundred cavalry are hard to defeat, once the enemy combines forces, we will face twenty-five hundred or even more. This is the best moment. First, use double their numbers to cripple this unit."

They were all frontier troops. Zhang Tianlin could not help feeling some sympathy in his heart. But at this moment, this enemy force on the battlefield and his own subordinates were both the price to be paid.

Ending the war quickly was the greatest mercy. The fastest way to end the war was through a few overwhelming, crushing victories that destroyed the government army's will to resist. Only then could both sides avoid paying an even greater price.

So what he wanted was fear. Hurt the Suzhou Garrison badly just once, and the frontier troops of the entire Suzhou defense sector would fear them. The battles to come would then be much easier.

Feng Dakui and the other Battalion Commanders clasped fists in salute and accepted the order. As the signal flags unfurled, the cavalry squadrons, their firelances shouldered, surged forth with a roar.

Zhao Zhirui reacted with extreme speed. His subordinate officers were all well-trained. Though the sudden appearance of cavalry squadrons behind them was shocking, they still immediately steadied their minds and deployed the standard formation for cavalry under attack.

The entire army, composed of fifteen hundred cavalry in three columns, internally divided into nine units. Each column, under a Commander's direction, split into three waves.

The first wave: the small number of elite soldiers who had been marching in partial armor immediately mounted up and circled outside the formation, moving to intercept and scatter the charging Marshal's Residence cavalry.

The second wave: the cavalry who had been marching unarmored blindfolded their horses and drove them to encircle the formation, creating a barricade of flesh and blood. They readied bows and firelances to snipe at the few enemy riders who broke through the interceptors, and set up the portable "Gushing Pearl" cannons carried with the army.

The third wave: the soldiers who had been marching in only half-armor — some wearing only shoulder-guards and iron vambraces, others only mail or padded cotton inner garments — were shielded inside the formation and used this moment to don their full armor.

The entire army was calm and orderly throughout this process, much to Zhao Zhirui's satisfaction.

He was a general who had fought on the Xuan-Da Defense Line. Generally speaking, when Mongol forces encountered a situation like this and saw their formation so strict, they would already be considering retreat, compelled to seek a better moment to attack.

After all, an army's strength, condition, and environment are not constant. What those skilled in military strategy call "striking where they are unprepared" is essentially using the whole to strike the scattered.

But the man commanding the attack against them at this moment was Zhang Tianlin. The Marshal's Residence cavalry had no intention of letting up. One Battalion Commander's unit was left near Zhang Tianlin to protect the commander-in-chief. The remaining two Battalion Commanders' units of cavalry churned up flying sand and, as they advanced, gradually dispersed according to rank.

The two Battalion Commanders dispersed into four Commanders. The four Commanders dispersed into twenty Captains. Finally, they dispersed into forty squadrons led by Platoon Leaders. In a great fan shape, with immense breadth, they surged toward the Suzhou Garrison cavalry sallying forth from the formation with mountain-toppling, sea-overwhelming momentum.

The first to clash were several small squads in the center of the battlefield. Because both sides were cavalry, and both had their main formations behind them, neither chose the traditional circling archery used by cavalry to suppress infantry. Instead, both adopted the headlong, charge-and-purge combat method.

Neither charged fast. During the process of charging and counter-charging, they first fired firelances, then shot bows at the gallop, then leveled their cavalry lances, drew their sabers, raised their chain flails and maces, and fought fiercely.

Charge-and-purge is a direct frontal collision to press the enemy cavalry. Against a strong foe, the goal is to kill, scatter, and drive them back. Against a weak foe, it is very easy to achieve a "rolling-back-the-bead-curtain" rout.

However, for two medium cavalry forces both heavily equipped with armor, this tactic actually yielded very limited casualties.

The Marshal's Residence cavalry's mounted archery was very strong, and their skill with the Lightning Bolt Arquebus from horseback was not bad either. Using firelances on horseback was an ancestral tactic of the Ming army's cavalry — they had been playing this game since the Yongle era and were very proficient.

But the best stage for firelance cavalry is the point-blank face-off in a scattered melee. During the rotating volleys of a charge-and-purge, even the most veteran cavalryman finds it hard to aim accurately. The range is too great. Men simply fired off a general shot, then drew their bows to shoot, so the killing efficiency was very low.

As for bows, they were much the same. Everyone wore standard-issue cloth-faced iron armor. Even armor-piercing arrowheads did little more than flesh wounds.

The melee weapons were even less decisive. Sabers were mostly for the clang. Even chain flails and maces had trouble knocking a man off his horse in one swing. The two sides practically pierced through each other's formations like threading a needle.

Nevertheless, in the eyes of the two commanders, Zhang Tianlin and Zhao Zhirui, both were satisfied with their subordinates' performance in this charge-and-purge.

In terms of results, the Marshal's Residence cavalry, equipped with nearly a thousand Lightning Bolt Arquebuses, held the advantage, felling several dozen warhorses. In terms of battle lines, the Suzhou Garrison troops held the advantage — after all, their main formation had Gushing Pearl Cannons. With a few cannon blasts, even if the Marshal's Residence cavalry broke through the line, they still had to wheel their horses and run back.

Their objectives were also different. Zhang Tianlin's goal was to have his cavalry charge in a fan formation and envelop the Suzhou battalion's battle array, while Zhao Zhirui's was to buy time for his soldiers to don their armor — and both of them won.

In a single charge, Zhang Tianlin's force of just over two thousand cavalry had seized the entire outer perimeter of the battlefield, encircling the Suzhou troops at a distance of half a li, while Zhao Zhirui's men had all put on their armor. For him, the most dangerous moment had already passed.

The instincts of a seasoned Commandant surged back. Zhao Zhirui's mind raced — his cavalry was outnumbered by the enemy, and continuing to charge would make it difficult to achieve significant results.

Moreover, the Marshal's Manor cavalry seemed very afraid of cannon fire. He assumed, naturally, that this was a common failing of peasant armies, figuring they had been traumatized by government cannon in their early days. He decided to meet change with constancy: he recalled all his cavalry into the formation, had the soldiers dismount, used the warhorses as makeshift cover, arranged his cannon, firearms, and bows into a volley-fire formation, and simultaneously began digging trenches.

Watching the enemy's reaction from atop the sand dune, Zhang Tianlin nodded approvingly and said to those beside him, "The enemy commander reacts quickly — he's an experienced one. His ability is no less than those three old fellows by the Great Marshal's side. If we get the chance, capture him. I want this man as my deputy."

Zhao Zhirui's response was flawless. Time was on the government troops' side; at most half a day to a day, and reinforcements from the east would arrive.

The one who should be anxious now was Zhang Tianlin. His mounted troops had surrounded them on all four sides, but under mounted archery and musket fire, their firepower density could not match that of dismounted infantry in formation. And if they formed up, they could not maintain the encirclement of Zhao Zhirui.

Of course, he could also choose to brave the cannon fire and launch a frontal assault. But neither side was soft — they would not be too afraid to charge just because of cannon fire, nor would they be scared off just because the enemy dared to charge through cannon fire.

The inevitable result would be heavy casualties. If the frontal assault failed, it would damage his own side's morale, and they would have no choice but to drag away their dead and retreat.

They might even take a beating during the retreat.

But Zhang Tianlin's face showed none of the dejection of a man in a predicament. On the contrary, he was absolutely delighted to see the government troops form up for infantry combat.

Zhao Zhirui was waiting in full battle readiness when he heard the galloping cavalry on all sides begin shouting loudly, urging surrender. The cries surged like a tsunami. The soldiers in the formation were all baffled and laughed at each other... What was this? Surround us and think you can talk us into surrendering?

Then they saw the command flags of the enemy's central army flourish. The cavalry on all sides suddenly scrambled to gallop away in retreat, leaving everyone utterly bewildered.

Immediately after, a dark shadow trailing a tail of flame soared into the sky from the Marshal's Manor central army and landed at the edge of their position. With a boom, it exploded into smoke and dust. Iron pellets flew in all directions, wounding and knocking down two soldiers, and spooking over a dozen warhorses on the perimeter into scattering in all directions.

On the silent battlefield, there was only the sound of hooves as the fleeing warhorses stampeded across the Gobi.

After a pause, two more dark shadows rose from the Marshal's Manor position and landed inside the formation. A moment later, there were four.

The sound of hooves grew more chaotic, the cries more intense. Eight dark shadows soared into the air. The military formation was beginning to crack. At one corner of the position, over a dozen soldiers drove their warhorses, attempting to break away through a gap, but were halted by an officer's shout.

Sixteen dark shadows landed in the formation. As the explosions rang out, on two battle lines, several dozen soldiers mounted their warhorses and wheeled toward the outer perimeter.

When Zhang Tianlin on the sand dune waved his hand once more, thirty-two rockets soared into the sky. The nearby military formation collapsed with a roar. Soldiers from every unit, like headless flies, some on foot, some on horseback, all fled toward the center of the encirclement.

In that very instant, Zhang Tianlin snatched the battle flag from the soldier beside him and brandished it. The eight cavalry units that had withdrawn to a distance of one li from the enemy line received the order with a jolt. All at once, they spurred their horses, raised their blades, and swept in to envelop and trample the scattering formation.

The formation had broken.