Chapter 643 — Night Raid
Under the cover of Light Infantry, the Medical Corps and militia cleaning the battlefield opened the stockade gate and emerged. They first collected and encoffined their own fallen soldiers at the foot of the earthen dike. Many Fubo Army dead who had fallen from the dike had been decapitated, and the identity tags worn around their necks were lost; they could only be registered and encoffined one by one by checking the name tags sewn into their clothing. After that, they began to clear the corpses of government soldiers, including dragging out bodies that had fallen into the trench one by one with hook poles. The weather was already hot; dropping so many corpses in place would soon breed plague once they rotted.
Seeing the Hair Bandits opening the stockade gate and pouring out in large numbers, the Ming army assumed they were launching a counterattack and scrambled up the stockade wall to prepare for battle. But they saw the Hair Bandit infantry halt after advancing three hundred paces and form defensive arrays. Many people wearing white robes emerged from behind, their heads and faces wrapped in white cloth hoods, long poles in their hands. They hooked corpses one by one, pulled them together, and transported them by wheelbarrow to a deep ditch for burial. The Engineering Corps had buried a row of explosives and quickly blasted out a trench deep enough to serve as a mass grave.
Abandoned government soldier wounded were occasionally found among the piles of corpses. As long as they could still move, they were loaded onto wheelbarrows one by one and transported back to the stockade for treatment.
What He Ming and the Senators regretted was that the government army had left behind not a single corpse of an officer of Chiliarch rank or above—let alone any wounded ones. Even their personal surname flags were scarcely found.
He Ming did not require recovery of swords, spears, and military equipment scattered on the ground, but every abandoned army flag was collected without exception—these were markers of military merit.
"The Hair Bandits don't even cut off heads!" The government soldiers watched the enemy's actions with curiosity. Not only did they not take heads, but they also retrieved the wounded. In the army of that era, being injured in battle meant danger of losing one's life; being heavily wounded and unable to walk essentially meant death. Generally, when cleaning a battlefield after victory, friend and foe alike—if heavily wounded—were finished off on the spot.
For safety reasons, the Fubo Army's corpse collection and battlefield cleaning advanced only to a point more than two hundred meters from the earthen dike. This was also where the densest piles of corpses had accumulated.
Just as the Medical Corps was busy clearing the field, lightning flashed through the thick cloud layer, and rolls of dull thunder rumbled overhead. A rainstorm was coming.
Rainstorms often followed great battles, especially in such a season of abundant water vapor and dense clouds as June and July. Large amounts of dust and gunpowder smoke provided abundant condensation nuclei.
"Now the corpses will bloat from soaking," Ryan withdrew the hastily finished Medical Corps and frowned. "Once the sun comes out tomorrow, I feel scared just thinking about the smell on the battlefield."
"Make do for now; deal with it later." He Ming seemed to catch a whiff of corpse stench from the road to Lang Son, back in those days. "Disinfectant must be sprinkled throughout the camp as well."
Ryan stripped off his gown, which reeked of disinfectant and blood, and threw it along with his oilcloth boots into a brightly burning boiler that was heating water for the troops.
"Infantry 6th Battalion assumes guard duty—pay attention to rain protection! All other units eat immediately, then rest." He Ming ordered loudly. "Tell the Logistics Department to ensure every tent and shed is dry."
"Understood." Xie Shu saluted and trotted away. Roll calls rang out across the camp's square. Soon the 3rd and 5th Infantry Battalions reported their vacancies. Dead and wounded officers and NCOs had to be replenished immediately, with meritorious soldiers promoted to fill the gaps. Soldier vacancies would be filled by militia. This ensured all units could go into battle tomorrow fully equipped and manned.
With a burst of fierce rolling thunder, sparse drops the size of beans struck the ground, kicking up the smell of soil and blood. A gust of cold wind swept through, making everyone shiver. Then the deluge came, accompanied by roaring thunder. For a time, golden serpents of lightning danced wildly between heaven and earth. A white curtain of rain shrouded the world. The crashing rain drowned out all voices.
He Ming's orderly had brought rain gear long ago and draped it over him the instant the rain began. But He Ming did not rush back to headquarters. Instead, he asked: "Do the wounded have shelter?"
"Rain sheds and large tents have already been set up for the wounded."
The thunder gradually faded, but the rain intensified. People and objects became invisible ten steps away. He Ming still made a complete inspection, only walking back to headquarters after confirming every location was properly arranged. He instructed that an officer escorted by the Special Reconnaissance Team be sent to visit the two infantry battalions lying in ambush.
The 1st and 4th Battalions, responsible for the ambush, were both positioned in the wild. Seeing the rain falling so heavily, He Ming worried they might be unable to camp in the open—or worse, encounter flash floods.
"Tell them to pay attention not only to safety but also to concealment!" He Ming instructed the messenger. "Be on guard against enemy night raids."
Both Battalion Commanders reported back: the current campsite was very safe. The soldiers had not encountered flooding and were resting.
The Chengmai gate tower was shrouded in gloom. The day's fighting had demonstrated that the Hair Bandits not only possessed sharp firearms but also extraordinary combat power. Though exact figures had not yet been compiled, total casualties exceeding two thousand were certain. This was already very serious for an army of over twenty thousand. Morale throughout the Grand Camp had sunk to its nadir. Many men, fearing they would be driven to fight the Hair Bandits tomorrow, already harbored thoughts of fleeing. Only the heavy rain and pitch-black darkness outside prevented a mass exodus.
He Rubin ordered reliable troops to control the roads and strategic passes while gathering generals for a meeting, comforting them and urging everyone not to lose heart—the decisive battle would come tomorrow. Zhao Ruyi also spoke, asking the generals to serve the country loyally. He also temporarily promoted a few officers, ordering them to lead the units that had lost their commanding generals. He transferred the most heavily damaged units to station in the rear, replacing them with fresh forces at the front.
He then ordered the beheading of a dozen routing soldiers captured by roving cavalry—men who had attempted to flee toward Qiongshan instead of returning to camp. Their heads were displayed to the entire camp. Following this demonstration of severity, he dispatched trusted private secretaries and generals to comfort the most unreliable elements—the transport troops and village braves—employing both soft and hard tactics to demand they "work together with one heart." After handling all this, he returned to his tent. Zhao Ruyi sat inside, stroking his beard. He Rubin understood that the calm exterior concealed deep fear.
"General Yinzhi, what are the odds of winning tomorrow's battle?" Zhao Ruyi asked.
"Sixty or seventy percent at best!" He Rubin said. "Our army suffered a setback today. Morale has wavered considerably. Hair Bandit morale is high..."
He did not finish the rest. Everyone present understood the implication: tomorrow's battle was more likely to end in defeat than victory.
Zhao Ruyi coughed once and said: "Hair Bandit firearms are sharp, and their morale is high. Our army absolutely cannot fight a field battle with them. In this student's opinion, it would be better to dig deep trenches and build high walls—to exhaust the Hair Bandits' sharp edge."
He Rubin remained silent. This tactic was useful when dealing with ordinary enemies—even against the Imperial Court's great enemy, the Eastern Barbarians. The government army possessed many firearms and infantry; digging trenches and establishing stockades to defend firmly with firearms, so long as officers and soldiers were of one mind, could generally hold. It was a sound tactic.
But the Hair Bandits were different from any enemy the Ming army had ever faced—even different from the Red-haired people who resembled them most. The enemy possessed cannons with greater range and accuracy. Digging trenches and defending firmly would only invite slow destruction by shelling from a distance. The entire army's morale would collapse before the enemy even attacked.
"Lord Zhao, Hair Bandit cannons are far superior to mine. If we dig trenches and defend firmly, their cannons can reach us, but ours cannot reach them. We become fish and meat on the chopping board, to be carved up at their leisure!"
Zhao Ruyi considered this and found it indeed reasonable. "Then attacking again tomorrow... I fear..." He did not finish, only sighed.
A private secretary spoke up: "Your Excellency need not worry. No matter how far their cannons reach, they must exit the stockade to deploy them. Their soldiers are few. Relying only on sharp firearms, they may not dare to exit the stockade and deploy cannons."
At this moment, Chang Qingyun interjected: "Your Excellency! The Hair Bandits thwarted our army only slightly today. The soldiers must now be lazy and their generals arrogant—they will neglect their defenses. Tonight, heavy rain falls like a torrent; enemy firearms absolutely cannot function. Please send a brave general to recruit several hundred death-sworn soldiers with heavy gold, emulating the legendary Snowy Night Raid on Caizhou. We will surely deal the Hair Bandits a great blow!"
He spoke with absolute confidence. He Rubin thought privately: A scholar's view! In such heavy rain, sending several hundred men groping blindly through the dark would be challenging enough—never mind finding the correct direction.
But Chang Qingyun's phrase "heavy rain falls like a torrent—firearms absolutely cannot function" struck a chord. In He Rubin's view, today's defeat had been entirely due to the Hair Bandits' overpowering firearms.
It would be best if it rains tomorrow too, He Rubin thought.
Zhao Ruyi, however, found this proposal quite interesting. The surrounding private secretaries and generals also believed there was a chance—they reasoned that as long as the Hair Bandits could not fire their firearms, they were nothing special. Even if they could not break the bandits entirely, they might inflict a major blow and reclaim some of the day's losses.
"How is the rain outside?"
"It has lightened slightly," the junior officer who went outside to check reported.
He Rubin rose and stood on the city tower, gripping the railing and gazing out. The Hair Bandit Grand Camp a few li distant was brightly lit with lanterns, obviously heavily guarded. Hoping to steal into the camp was impossible. But if the enemy's firearms could not function, fighting with bare blades might yet offer a chance for a small victory.
Now the rain is lighter, He Rubin thought. If we send men to raid the camp immediately and succeed, we can take the opportunity to rout the Hair Bandit army entirely, completely reversing the war's course. If we cannot break the stockade, even a small victory will boost morale.
He immediately summoned other generals to discuss the camp raid. Everyone agreed: after the failed attack today, the Hair Bandits would never expect the Ming army to raid their camp—least of all during heavy rain. Though moving at night in the storm was inconvenient, this hardship would be shared by friend and foe alike. If the Hair Bandits truly could not use their firearms, they could only fight a chaotic melee. The government soldiers' skill in hand-to-hand combat could finally be brought to bear. Perhaps routing the Hair Bandits was not impossible after all.
It was immediately decided: five hundred men from He Rubin's Town Standard would form the vanguard, braving the rain to scale the defenses. Huezhou Regional Commander Yan Zungao would lead one thousand men in support. If the assault on the stockade proceeded smoothly, fireworks would serve as the signal; He Rubin would then personally lead the main force in a full-scale attack.
Yan Zungao ordered his men to eat their fill, then silenced drums and rolled up banners, moving quietly toward the front camp. To facilitate movement in the muddy terrain, the five hundred first-ascenders removed their armor and left their long spears behind, carrying only podao curved sabers and small shields. Many light ladders had also been prepared. All soldiers' shoes were wrapped with straw ropes in several places to prevent slipping when climbing. After all units had assembled, they set off immediately, marching through the rain. Town Standard Central Army Garrison Commander and Guerrilla Ye Zhengfang led the elite soldiers at the front. Yan Zungao followed with several other guerrillas, leading one thousand men ready to support. He ordered everyone not to light fires or make noise, running quickly and silently toward the enemy camp through the rainy night.
He Rubin also quietly prepared two thousand men, ready to lead the main force in a full-scale attack the moment the night raid succeeded.
Ye Zhengfang led his men and horses quietly for several li. Only the swishing of rain reached his ears. Though there were lights on the earthen dike, the surrounding area was pitch black. He secretly rejoiced—the enemy's bright lights meant they were in the light while his army remained in the dark. Those same lights also served to indicate the correct direction. Otherwise, finding the right path in a dark, lampless field on a rainy night would have been nearly impossible.
Seeing the entire force had quietly groped its way to the foot of the earthen dike and that the follow-up troops had also arrived, Ye Zhengfang could not help but feel elated. During the day, thousands of men had left countless corpses just to cross this distance. Now they had crept to the base of the earthen dike without losing a single soldier. It seemed the Hair Bandits were indeed slack! He listened quietly for a moment; there was no movement on the dike, only the hissing of torches sputtering in the rain.
"Set up ladders!" he ordered in a low voice. More than a dozen scaling ladders were slowly erected, leaning against the earthen dike.
Suddenly the surroundings blazed with blinding light. In an instant, the government soldiers thought the sky itself had turned bright. In the moment of their astonishment, a loud voice reached their ears:
"Fire!"
Volley fire swept through the government soldiers preparing to storm the gap between bastions. Intense beams of light shone down on the men below the earthen dike, dazzling and blinding them. The power of the stage searchlights swept through the dense rain, turning everything around them harsh, glaring white. The stunned government soldiers could not even identify which direction to flee; they fell under the volleys one after another.
"Go!" Ye Zhengfang's shock had not yet passed, but he knew the Hair Bandits had been fully prepared and that staying was death. With a gong strike, government soldiers scrambled to flee. The white beams on the earthen dike followed the routed soldiers closely. The government forces fell into chaos; men trampled each other in front of the trench, causing many casualties. Fortunately, Yan Zungao's unit behind them had not yet crossed the trench. Seeing the columns of light shooting in all directions, they assumed the Hair Bandits had employed some kind of sorcery. Then guns roared. Yan Zungao understood at once that the adage "firearms are useless in rainy weather" did not apply to Hair Bandits.
Hair Bandit bird guns thundered through the heavy rain while government bows and arrows could barely be used in such conditions. The one thousand men Yan Zungao had brought could neither attack nor provide covering support. Seeing the white beams shake wildly and sweep across the trench to fall on his own men, before he could even issue an order, a chaotic volley rang out. Government soldiers waiting to cross the trench fell in a batch. The rest dispersed immediately in pandemonium. Yan Zungao himself was swept up by his personal soldiers and fled.
Ye Zhengfang fought his way out of the chaos under the protection of his personal soldiers and officers. He managed to escape across the trench with great difficulty. At that moment, the volley fire on the earthen dike ceased, and a voice like a giant's roar bellowed:
"People below—listen! Drop your swords and spears! Strip off your clothes! Squat down with hands on heads! Otherwise, no one will be spared!"
The chaotic government soldiers had long since been dazzled by searchlights and terrified out of their wits by volley fire. They hastily dropped their weapons one after another, squatting beneath the earthen dike with hands raised high, not daring to look up.
One officer, seeing himself at the edge of the light beam, quietly shifted a few steps, attempting to hide in the darkness. A gunshot immediately cracked from the earthen dike, and he was killed instantly on the open ground. Seeing this, no one else dared move even half an inch. Everyone froze in place.
Three ladders were lowered from the earthen dike.
"Groups of ten—climb up one group at a time. If there are wounded, bring them up without exception!"
Stripped stark naked, the government soldiers shivered in the heavy rain. A petty officer shouted up: "Make it convenient, up there! Lower a few more ladders. Brothers have no cover, up and down—this rain is cold..."
"Sending troops to serve the Court, paying attention to loyal service for the country—and yet you're afraid of catching cold?" Someone on the earthen dike answered with a laugh.
"Fart 'Loyal Service'! Daddy is here to eat rations and get paid!" The petty officer, seeing someone actually answering from above, let his soldier-ruffian nature get the better of him. "Although everyone serves their own master and swords have no eyes, seeing that we're all wearing uniforms and eating rations—make an exception!"
"Easy to say! Brother, you've got big guts. May I ask your great name?"
"Dare not claim greatness—small surname is Jiang, humble name Yougong."
"Good. Lowering two more ladders right now."
So the surrendered soldiers climbed up shivering, ten at a time, along these five ladders. Infantry above supervised with loaded guns. Militia prepared bundles of rope. The moment captives came up, their right arms were tied; ten men bound in a string were then escorted down. Seeing the government soldiers naked, balls and buttocks exposed, drenched by rain and looking utterly miserable, soldiers and militia could not help laughing. The laughter swelled louder and louder, penetrating the rain and reaching the government soldiers' Grand Camp. The defeated soldiers who had suffered so bitterly during the day heard gunshots but could not understand why the Hair Bandits were laughing like this. They dared not ask, only whispering quietly in the dark. Many middle and low-ranking officers and soldiers realized this expedition against the bandits was a complete failure—at the very least, no chance of victory was visible.
Teams tied together in groups of ten were escorted at bayonet point to the POW camp in a corner of the stockade. Many bonfires had been lit in bamboo sheds, but no clothes were issued—they could only warm themselves by the fire. Wounded were examined briefly; serious cases were carried away for treatment.
Jiang Yougong shivered while warming himself by the fire. He saw that the place where they were detained was quite simple—just a corner of the Grand Camp. Two sides were earthen dikes; the other two had ditches filled with sharp bamboo spikes. Lights blazed on all four sides. Hair Bandit soldiers stood on watchtowers, holding bird guns with glinting bayonets, looking murderous.
Dozens of pitch-black iron buckets were carried over, steaming hot. Stacks of wooden bowls were also brought.
"Come, everyone take a bowl—prepare to drink soup!" The cook knocked on an iron bucket, shouting loudly.
(End of Chapter)