Chapter 951: The Cavalry Flees First
One tael of silver per head — and a rebel head at that. This reward could be called extremely generous. Men became soldiers, sold their lives and ate army grain, precisely for this. And the order that deserters in the face of battle would be executed without pardon gave the battalion officers and military officials the authority to kill and enforce discipline. Once these two orders were issued, no one dared be careless. Everyone knew that if they retreated again, the Regional Commander would likely lead his personal troops forward to enforce discipline and kill.
"A man dies with his prick pointing at the sky — what damn use is lining up formations? Real blades and real spears are what settle the score!" someone roared.
"Whoever dares not advance, just cut the bastard down!" another threatened.
It was only a dozen-odd paces of distance. The government troops' agitation turned into fervor and fighting spirit. The soldiers in the front few rows were already the boldest and most reckless desperadoes. At a dozen-odd paces, even those in the front row had no time to flee — so they could only fight!
With heaven-shaking frenzied shouts and still-orderly formations, the refugee square phalanxes pressed forward just like that, and the government vanguard also began roaring and charging up.
How much iron in one saber, how much iron in one spear? Spears were cheap, so naturally they were the most numerous equipment. Everyone used the same specifications, so the lengths were naturally about the same — there was no situation of one side being unable to reach the other. But one spear had to face several of the enemy's — not just the enemy's first row, but also those in the back rows. And the government troops fought each man for himself, utterly unable to help one another.
Roars, wretched screams, dying wails — shouts and drumbeats could no longer be heard. One could only hear the clash of weapons, sharp blades piercing into bodies, the sound of bodies collapsing onto the ground.
The battle lines of government troops and refugees briefly locked in stalemate. Whichever side lost more men, whichever side could not hold on, would have to retreat. The bravest, most death-defying soldiers fell under the clustered thrusts of refugee spears. Those behind were even more terror-stricken and trembling at heart — who would still dare to keep advancing?
This brief stalemate did not last long before the government troops began to falter. The refugee square phalanxes' slogans rose again. One shout, one step forward. They took one step forward, the government troops took one step back. The refugee square phalanxes advanced one step, and the government troops' ranks grew a bit more disordered.
The five refugee square phalanxes pressed forward relentlessly. The government troops' ranks retreated and fell into disorder continuously. This retreat and disorder accelerated without cease, and very quickly it was a complete collapse. Charging up was throwing your life away — so why still go fight? Fleeing for your life was what mattered most. The reward of one tael of silver per head was very high, but only if you could actually get it. Retreating and fleeing too slowly? Better to turn around and run at full speed. So what if there were men behind enforcing discipline? You lot won't go fight at the front, but you've got plenty of drive to attack your own men — then let's see whose skills are stronger.
Under the pressure of the refugee square phalanxes, the discipline-enforcing squads of every government battalion lost their nerve. What's more, the routed soldiers who came flooding back had truly turned red-eyed. Whoever dared block their path of escape, they would fight to the death against. Yet this ferocity had not been seen when they were fighting the refugees just moments ago.
Seeing the battalion officers and military officials wheel their horses and flee, the discipline squads could not hold out either. When the discipline squads also turned and fled in rout, the entire situation completely collapsed. Several thousand government soldiers instantly became scattered sand, utterly broken. Every man ran. To run a little faster, they even discarded the weapons in their hands.
Jining City was no more than twenty li from here. As long as they could run into the city, or reach the encampment outside the walls, the refugees would be helpless. Most of the government soldiers harbored this thought, and so they had even less courage to keep fighting.
"General, we must leave quickly!" The personal soldiers guarding Shandong Regional Commander Yang Guodong were extremely anxious.
Regional Commander Yang Guodong's expression was incomparably grim. The five hundred-odd mounted men had all gathered around him. Because the cavalry had been positioned behind the main army on the flank all along, they had not been swept up in the rout and collapse. Moreover, the cavalry counted as fresh troops. No matter how fierce those refugees were, they could not possibly catch up to the cavalry. They could advance or retreat at leisure, and so were not so panicked.
Yang Guodong's sweat came out again. Earlier he had vaguely sensed something was wrong; now he knew why it was wrong, and also knew the situation had collapsed. He was, on the contrary, slightly calmer.
"We cannot leave. Charge them once from the left flank. If it succeeds, we can smash these five phalanxes in one go. Even if it doesn't succeed, it can slow them down for a moment. Otherwise, our old foundation will be completely lost this time." Shandong Regional Commander Yang Guodong spoke through gritted teeth.
The commander gave the order, and the men naturally obeyed. Besides, the government cavalry felt that even if they couldn't win, they could still escape at leisure — naturally their state of mind was more composed.
With shouted orders, the cavalry led by Yang Guodong changed direction and wheeled around, beginning to run toward the right flank of the refugee square phalanxes. The refugee square phalanxes' formations were strict and orderly, but to maintain this formation, their speed simply could not be raised.
The government cavalry had just moved when earth-shaking, mountain-trembling cheers erupted. Behind the square phalanxes and on both flanks, towering clouds of dust rose into the sky. Those refugees who had scattered earlier were now charging forward. In pursuit, there was no need for orderly formations or high combat strength — just chase and kill.
Facing such a human tide, the government cavalry, from top to bottom, lost much of their composure.
"General, go!" a personal-soldier squad commander said impatiently. If they were engulfed by such a human tide, even on horseback the outcome would be being crushed to pieces.
Regional Commander Yang Guodong did not answer. He merely raised his riding crop and lashed down fiercely. The men had no choice but to speed up and follow.
Just as they were about to close in, watching the surging human tide rushing madly from afar and from nearby, everyone subconsciously held back a bit of strength, so they could wheel their mounts around when it was time to flee.
To keep their formation from breaking, the square phalanxes — though the routing enemy was right before them — advanced steadily the entire time. The shouting of slogans also became less urgent, turning composed.
It was precisely because these immensely threatening refugee square phalanxes did not rush that Regional Commander Yang Guodong's cavalry was still carrying out its pre-planned maneuver.
Just at that moment, people charged out from the refugee square phalanxes. The cavalrymen on horseback subconsciously prepared for battle, but this time the enemy was different from last time. They were not leveling bamboo spears and stabbing forward without regard for life or death — they were archers standing firm, bows drawn and arrows nocked.
Their numbers were indeed not large, just over a hundred men. But at this moment, they were aiming at the cavalry's flank. Many men had no time to dodge. Many, for the sake of traveling light, had not even brought shields.
The refugees actually had archers — but why hadn't they used them earlier? Yet anyone would have to admit, deployed at this juncture, they were most effective, and the killing power was greatest.
Many men could no longer be bothered to follow the main body. They were already half-hearted to begin with, and what's more, they were within bowshot range. Leave first — life was what mattered. Some wheeled their horses and turned aside; some continued forward. The ranks had already fallen into chaos.
The speed of drawing and loosing a bow was always much faster than a cavalry unit turning. The whistling of arrows tearing through the air rose once more — but this time it was the refugees who loosed them.
The refugees' bows were hardly standard-issue military bows, but thinking of the shoddily made goods those artisan households produced, the two sides really weren't that different. The distance was just right. The cavalrymen were close together, and it was too late to dodge.
Regional Commander Yang Guodong wore a full suit of armor, expertly forged, and was surrounded by personal guards — the most conspicuous man in the cavalry. The refugee archers subconsciously aimed at him.
The personal soldiers beside a commander were fed ample pay and grain, bound to him in life and death. Seeing the arrows fly, though they themselves could have dodged, they shielded their general's body just like that.
Originally, Regional Commander Yang Guodong still had some of a great general's bearing. When the archers appeared, he continued advancing in the predetermined direction. But when the personal guards shielding him were struck by arrows, and some were shot in the neck or cheek and fell screaming from their horses, Yang Guodong's eyes twitched violently, his cheeks spasmed. He glanced toward the refugee formation's flank, and finally made up his mind: "Go! We go!"
The refugee archers drew bows and nocked arrows without the slightest scruple. The strength they had stored and endured was now unleashed. Government cavalrymen were continuously struck by arrows and fell from their horses. Hearing the commander give the order to withdraw, every man breathed a sigh of relief.
When the government cavalry also turned and fled, the situation completely collapsed. Banner after banner was thrown to the ground. The civilian laborers following behind to transport provisions and supplies also began fleeing in terror. No one paid any attention to those cartloads of materiel.
The cavalry led by Regional Commander Yang Guodong ran the fastest after all, and had the strongest impact. Though during the rout he had shown considerable general's bearing and had even prepared to cover the rear and block the refugees, once he truly retreated, he was utterly reckless and charged straight ahead. It goes without saying that men and horses combined — foot soldiers could not block them at all and would be directly knocked down with broken bones and sinews. A man on horseback, seeing someone blocking the way ahead — whether civilian laborer, able-bodied conscript, or his own troops — would slash down with one saber, thrust out with one spear. Do not block the way...
It was already a collapse to begin with, and being thrown into chaos by their own cavalry like this, it completely fell apart. Cavalry rules: to maintain the mounts' strength, they carried fodder with them and fed at any time. The government cavalry had not moved much all along, so now in flight they could gallop at full strength. The routing foot soldiers were different. They had force-marched twenty li, and upon arriving wanted to "destroy the enemy before breakfast." Even if they had eaten their fill in the morning, their stomachs were now empty. From forming ranks to madly running, it was all physically draining work. They could run for a while at first, but when hunger struck, exhaustion surged up as well. Their legs went weak, and they ran slower and slower.
The refugees, however, were different. If they were hungry, they were at least accustomed to hunger. If they had eaten, they had been resting and waiting all along. Sustaining them too was the excitement of victory and the fervor of their faith.
Although the refugees who had dispersed to the flanks began their pursuit later, the distance between them and the routing government troops ahead kept shrinking — until they caught up.
At this moment, those crude bamboo spears and wooden poles became lethal weapons. No one ahead resisted, and no one dodged. You only needed to thrust the bamboo spear forcefully at the back or the neck. It didn't matter if the bamboo spear broke or couldn't be pulled out — you could pick up the weapons the government soldiers had dropped and discarded. Those iron-forged sharp blades could kill many men before becoming useless.
The refugees shouted and yelled wildly; the government soldiers wept, wailed, and screamed pitifully. The refugees all killed until their eyes turned red. The resentment from being hounded by government runners, squeezed by the gentry and local strongmen, and tormented by natural and man-made calamities — all of it was vented upon the government soldiers at this moment. The Ming government troops' reputation had always been utterly vile. They ran amok in the localities, behaving no differently from bandits. Even the gentry and local strongmen could not endure them. The refugees, who had been oppressed and bullied so much before, now got their payback in this moment.
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End of Chapter
