Huang Huatan sighed: he still came too late, otherwise he could have driven through the open gate to eliminate the French and Americans in the so-called "strategic village", rescue all the villagers, and at the same time capture some new weapons used by the Americans that can be fired continuously, and to do this, there is no need to invest in the elite armed with rifles, but now......

Sure enough, no matter how perfect the plan is, it is always difficult and full of omissions to operate. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Fortunately, however, he has prepared a second solution, and it has already been implemented. Thinking of this, Huang Huatan regained his composure. He slowly raised his right hand and whispered two words, "Attack." ”

Just as he gave the order, an explosion scattered mud and clods around the most advanced rebels. Neither Fruhauff nor his men thought of waiting for the resistance to the armed attack, and the mortar detachment opened fire first.

One shell after another fell around the terrified rebels. The warriors knew that their mission was to risk their lives to take the enemy's stronghold, but none of the resistance fighters were prepared to die under the bullets or artillery fire of the evil enemy. They nervously raised their weapons, and each warrior felt some cold, invisible finger pierce their bodies.

Detective Huanghua's calm suddenly turned into anger with a tense face: no one ever told him, whether it was the spies or the puppet army who abandoned the darkness and turned to the light, that the army stationed in this "strategic village" had artillery...... And it's four-door! And they fired faster than any French cannon he had ever seen!

"What's going on? The Americans have such powerful artillery, why did you never say that? He glared at the few Nationalist soldiers around him who had narrowly escaped.

But no one could answer him. These soldiers of the National Army had as little, if not less, insight than him, and with their meagre intellect, they certainly could not understand that the strange pipe that the mercenaries carried was artillery; In the face of Huang Huatan's anger, the only thing they can do is to retreat.

"Some rubbish." The rebel leader had to turn his attention back to his men. They were waiting for an order to attack or retreat, but in this waiting, shells kept falling and gradually taking their lives.

Mud, clods, flesh, stumps, and wailing wounded and motionless corpses, it was something he could see, but something he couldn't: the morale and discipline of his men were crumbling at a faster rate - the resistance fighters of the Yellow Flower Detective were not George. The valiant Confederate soldiers under the command of Pickett, a slight heavy loss was enough to break them apart.

While he was still trying to figure out why the Americans had artillery, the signs of the collapse of his troops were becoming more and more apparent.

Finally, a ringleader noticed the signs. Both as a reminder and as an answer, he asked, "Brother Huang, what should we do now?" ”

"What should I do?" Huang Huatan was stunned for a moment: he remembered that he had already ordered an attack; But he quickly came to his senses. "Offense. Take this stronghold. ”

"Still going to attack?" The leaders were dumbfounded. "This stronghold is even harder to bite than we thought......"

"But the number of enemy troops has not changed." Huang Huatan clenched his right hand into a fist and waved, "There are less than two hundred Americans in the stronghold, and maybe dozens of puppet soldiers, and it is impossible for them to defend every position in the stronghold. ”

He was right, but the leaders were still bitter: a feint attack from the front, a sneak attack from the rear, while this was a good strategy, but the Americans had more firepower than they had previously known, and the troops who feinted would suffer heavy losses - but these people were the ones they had carefully cultivated over the years...... However, this battle is necessary. If the French are allowed to imprison villagers in "strategic villages" without taking action, not only will the space for the rebels be suppressed, but their supporters will also become less and less: when people find that there is no benefit to supporting the rebels, and that they will not get any help when they are in trouble, they will make a new choice.

It was a battle that had to be fought, a card that had to be played. And now is not the right time to argue or bargain, the team's endurance is reaching its limit.

"Attack." In the end, the leaders still conveyed the order of the Yellow Flower Detective.

Then the first group of resistance fighters, about three thousand people, began to advance towards their goal. Some fighters with rifles opened fire on the village, but only to create some disturbance and not to hit something. But the mortar detachment threw lethal ammunition into their midst, with rare precision. Explosions were heard one after another, mixed with screams and wails.

The rebels who did not participate in the attack saw the casualty of the attacking ranks. They angrily poured their shots at enemy strongholds hundreds of meters away, only to be greeted with a more intense rain of bullets. At this moment, the machine guns were no longer silent, and every mercenary began to shoot, reaping the lives of the rebels with their bullets.

But the rebels were still advancing, and although fear had completely ruled their hearts, they had picked up speed at the shouts of their leaders, trying to create the illusion that they were intent on breaking through the mercenaries' interception fire at any cost, using their numerical superiority, to open a passage into the strategic village.

Their performance was a success.

"Poor fools, do they think this strategy will work?" Fruhoff burst out laughing. If the rebels thought they could cut through the trenches and barbed wire in a dense hail of bullets, and insisted on doing so, holding the strategic village would no longer be a matter of concern.

Another platoon of rebels collapsed in a barrage of mercenary shots, and the commander erupted in a burst of cheerful laughter.

However, as if just to throw a large basin of cold water on him, Thomas suddenly leaned over. "At the current rate of firing, I'm afraid our mortars and machine guns won't last long, commander."

The laughter abruptly stopped—neither the machine guns nor the mortars could fire continuously, they would overheat, and then the soldiers operating them would have to stop and wait for their weapons to cool down for a "long" enough time -- Fruhoff finally realized that he was overly optimistic.

But there are others who are more optimistic than him.

"Don't worry, gentlemen, machine guns will solve everything. In South Africa, fifty Britons were killed with four machine guns......" Lieutenant D-Vigion stopped suddenly, for he noticed that Fruhauff, Thomas, and the other two squad commanders were looking at him with foolish eyes. "What's wrong? What's the problem? The lieutenant was puzzled.

"Are you referring to the British operation to conquer Matabeleran? 1893? Just out of an abundance of caution, Thomas asked cautiously.

"Of course."

"Do you want to say that fifty Britons killed thousands of natives with four machine guns?" The other squad commander asked, with obvious sarcasm.

D-Virgian was a little enraged - why did every American treat him like a fool who didn't know anything? And, in fact, they're fools who don't know anything. "Isn't that so?" He asked rhetorically.

The mercenaries who heard it all laughed.

"Fifty men and four machine guns?" The commander snorted, "Even if you don't consider the two volunteer columns that fought with him, Henry. The force commanded by Lauke also had seven hundred and fifty-nine white men and a thousand indigenous soldiers, and was armed with two seven-pounder field guns and five machine guns, so he could defeat thousands of Matabelelan warriors - fifty men and four machine guns? I'm afraid King Matabelelan was laughing when he slept. ”

Poor fool. Fruhauff thought at the same time. Like the rest of the French, De Vigien was arrogant and arrogant, thinking he knew a lot, but much of what he knew was exaggerated rumors. Of course, he could not have known that when the mercenaries began to equip themselves with machine guns, the British invasion of Matabelleran was repeatedly mentioned as an example of war.

Just a lot of mercenaries...... Even himself, he had forgotten the admonition of his boss: the machine gun was an effective weapon, but it was not a panacea, and it had many drawbacks......

A sudden sharp cough in the midst of the gunfire brought the commander back to reality. Lieutenant Dvigian's face immediately flushed with embarrassment, but none of the three squad commanders looked at him—they all looked at their superiors. It was only a moment that Fruhaoff had already thought of an emergency measure. "Get a few buckets of water at once, and if a mortar or machine gun overheats, pour water on it."

"But this will reduce the service life of the weapon."

"his life." Fruhaoff looked back at the outside of the camp. The Vietnamese rebels are still falling in patches like wheat being harvested, but more rebels are still rushing up, and the favorable situation will not last long......

As if to confirm his fears, a machine gun suddenly stopped.

"Go!" The commander shouted.

Every mercenary who did not take part in the battle went into action, as well as Dvirgian and his National Army soldiers. Everyone knew that mortars and machine guns were a guarantee to keep the rebels out of the gates, so they must not stop firing, not even for a moment.

But the machine gun operated by Bun had ceased firing—his machine gun had been firing longer than any other machine gun, so that just now the bullet had fired itself before his finger touched the trigger—the chamber had reached a temperature that could induce the propellant to spontaneously combustion; And Vane accidentally touched the barrel while dragging the cartridge belt, and although it was only a rather brief and by no means intimate contact, he screamed at the scalding.

"We need a bucket of cold water," Vane suggested, clutching the burned area...... demanded, "or something else that will cool down the barrel." ”

"We only have a barrel of kerosene." Wen Deji picked up the kerosene, "Do you think it will burn?" ”

Since the temperature of the barrel could ignite the propellant, he thought it was very likely, and of course Vane thought so. So kerosene was abandoned, and the two men began to think of new alternatives. After thinking for a while, Wen Deji suggested: "Pee." Vince, pee on the barrel. ”

"Why me and not you?"

"I haven't drunk water today."

"That's great, man." Whether he wanted to or not, Vane stood up and reached out to take off his pants - but only intended. Almost the next second he straightened up, a volley of bullets had flown by, some grazing past him, others hitting the planks or sandbags, so frightened that he immediately lay back on the floor, and remained motionless, before he began to scream after a long time. "We were targeted by the Vietnamese!"

"I'm afraid it's more than that, man." Wen Deji pointed to the bullet hole, "The bullet came from the east, not the north. ”

"So?"

Wen Deji didn't answer, but cautiously poked his head out to look at the east of the strategic village, and then Fan En also stuck his head out. Just as they had guessed, a large group of Vietnamese were filling the trenches with dirt, and the bullets were fired by the rebels who were providing them with a vigilance.

"They're about to fill in the trenches." Wen Desi said.

"But they can't cross the barbed wire." Vane reminded him of the "unless they have pliers." ”

"How do you know they don't have pliers?" Boon Duc Si bit his lip: everyone's attention was drawn to the northern gate, if at this time the Vietnamese tore through the barbed wire fence in other directions and entered the strategic village, they would have won today's battle. "We need to warn the Commander right away."

Vane spread his hands. "How do you warn him?"

"I report to the commander that you stay here to contain the Vietnamese - or vice versa."

"You go and report, I'll stay." Thinking about it more closely, Vane was even more sure of his decision. The climb down the ladder is undoubtedly very dangerous, and it is safer to stay on the watchtower.

Wen Deji didn't think about it so much. He nodded, gave Vane two taps on the shoulder, then abruptly stood up and fired a shot at the rebels, then crouched down at a faster pace. But his move had received an enthusiastic response from the Vietnamese, and in just an instant, a rain of bullets swept across the entire watchtower. Of course, they didn't hit anyone, but Vane felt like everything around him was shattering.

He wanted to say something, but before he could speak, he pulled the lid off the floor and slid down the ladder. The Vietnamese did not pay attention to him, their eyes were all focused on the watchtower, and so did the muzzle of the gun.

Another rain of bullets brushed over Vane's head.

"Damn bastards! Knave! Scum! The mercenary shouted angrily, not knowing whether he was cursing his companions or the Vietnamese, but he could only do that. God knows what Moon's shot, but in short, the rebels seemed enraged and kept firing without any intention of stopping—if Vane was going to fight back, he would be ready to fall with bullet holes all over his body.

He wasn't going to do that yet, so he could only continue cursing while praying that Ventor would find Fruhauff sooner.

Prayer is very effective. Before he reached the north gate, he heard Fruhauff's loud curses—joyful, slightly mocking curses. The cold water had the effect he had hoped for, and mortars and machine guns were still firing, forming an impassable line of death in front of the Vietnamese. Watching the rebels rush forward and then fall before the line of death, the Commander once again felt that he had won the battle.

"Kill, kill them, kill all these monkeys! God bless America. He screamed, danced, danced, and didn't care at all about the bullets that passed by; Several squad commanders tried to pull him back to safety, but they were pushed away.

Wendeji was dumbfounded: Fruhoff was the most abnormal commander he had ever seen...... To be exact, he was almost a madman; But even more stunned were the Vietnamese. The rebels who fell to the guns of the mercenaries numbered hundreds, or thousands, or more, but they continued to rush forward, as if driven by some mysterious magic. Even though he was able to guess that these people were only trying to attract attention and make their companions' actions in other directions successful, the madness of the move gave him a creepy feeling.

"Wen!"

Thomas's voice brought him to his senses from shock, and he remembered what he had come here for, and hurried to the squad commander. "Boss, we're in big trouble."

"Yes, big trouble." Thomas replied casually. His attention remained on the ongoing battle, a one-sided slaughter, and despite the fact that no one but Fruhuff felt the light of victory.

"The rebels must have organized a warlord." Perhaps feeling that his lieutenant might not be able to comprehend this concern, he went further and explained that "their attacking forces had already retreated, but soon returned to us to continue the capture......

This is what happened after Moon Deji left the watchtower, so he didn't see it, but he didn't care about it at all. "We've got another big problem, boss." This was the only way Thomas could hear, he exclaimed, "There is a great group of rebels filling in the trenches to the east." ”

"What?"

"There's a big group of rebels to the east filling in our trenches."

Thomas's face turned white. Is it a frontal feint again, a flank attack? Well, the trick was old, but it worked, and all the mercenaries were drawn to the north, leaving no defense in the other three directions - a mistake that had to be corrected, of course.

"Wen, I'll give you a group of people to drive the rebels out of the east." Said the squad commander.

Wen Deji shook his head. "That's not going to work, sir, there are at least a thousand rebels in the east, and a group of people won't work at all."

"Are you kidding?" Thomas's face was already pale.

"I'm serious, sir."

"Hell!" Thomas turned his attention to the other two squad commanders for help. They all heard it, and now their faces were no better than his. A thousand men - it would take at least a squad to get rid of them, but now there is no squad at all, except for ......

The commanders looked together at the Vietnamese National Army soldiers, who were hiding from the sidelines to watch the bustle.

Now, it was Nguyen Phuc Shou's turn to turn pale. The translator said everything, a thousand rebels were to the east, and the Americans were going to let him and his brother intercept it, but there were no doors.

He decided to refuse, but before he could speak, Lieutenant D-Vigion preemptively said: "Gentlemen, why don't we shrink behind the second barbed wire?" ”

Strategic Village 13 has two barbed wires, which form a Chinese character for "hui", and the mercenaries are between the two barbed wires, so they can retreat - but after the second barbed wire is the area where Vietnamese villagers live, and they can enter at this time......

"We'll keep an eye on those people." Ruan Fushou hurriedly said. He couldn't wait to retreat.

The squad commanders exchanged glances with each other, the Vietnamese National Army was neither reliable nor trustworthy, but it was better to be surrounded by unarmed villagers than by rebels at least armed with machetes.

They agreed. "We retreat." The three squad commanders began to give orders to their soldiers, "Bring all your weapons and ammunition and withdraw behind the second barbed wire." After a pause, one of the squad commanders added, "Remember to bring our commander." ”

Fruhav was still shouting excitedly, and the bullets fired by the Vietnamese kept passing around him, but they never touched his body, but instead they hit a few mercenaries who bravely rushed forward and tried to drag him to safety. In the end, the squad commanders had to take matters into their own hands to get their mad commander down.

"What the hell!" The squad commander cursed.

"God apparently doesn't intend to let this madman go to him yet." Thomas shook his head, and then said, "You take him and retreat first, and I will command the troops." ”

"Thank you." Without wasting a moment's time, the two squad commanders hit the road.

"The squads alternately retreated." Thomas turned around and saw that Wendeji was still looking at him. "What else?"

"Vince is still on the watchtower." Wen Desi said.

Thomas glanced back at the watchtower to the east and made a cross on his chest. "May God bless him, Amen." Then, he turned around and continued to direct the troops to retreat.

The French and his Vietnamese soldiers had withdrawn into the inner layer of the strategic village, followed by machine gunners, a mortar detachment and two squad commanders with Fruhauff in tow. Eventually, under Thomas's command, the mercenaries alternated cover, preventing the rebels from approaching the gate while retreating to their new line of defense. Wen Deji was with them, constantly retreating, and at the same time constantly casting a worried look at the watchtower to the east.

When the first rebel rushed to the gate and began to pound it, he knew he didn't have to look any further.

"Vince, you're a good man, God will bless you." One last glance at the watchtower, Wen Deji also retreated behind the second barbed wire. Immediately, the door was closed and locked. (To be continued, if you want to know what will happen next, please log in to the www.qidian.com, more chapters, support the author, support genuine reading!) (To be continued.) )