Chapter 710 - Battle of Upper Hengdang Island

Spray from the bow occasionally drenched the deck. The landing craft was packed with marines and sailor landing troops. Each sat in silence, rifles cradled in their arms—all wrapped in single-use oilcloth protective bags per regulations. The steam engine rumbled beneath them, sending tremendous vibrations through the hull. Shi Zhiqi stood at the stern, watching Upper Hengdang Island draw nearer. He licked his lips nervously—how nice it would be to have some chewing gum right now.

Several small support craft belching black smoke led the formation. These vessels had shield-protected typewriters installed and iron plating wrapped around their hulls—purpose-built for close-in shore strafing to cover the landing troops. The gunners aboard wore steel helmets and protective vests with front and back steel plates. Each gripped their typewriter's stabilizing bar with tense expressions, awaiting the order to fire.

The support craft closed on the shoreline. The typewriters' resonant roar immediately filled the air—though this proved entirely unnecessary. The incomplete western battery position stood empty. The bullets merely shredded plants and branches.

Shi Zhiqi led by example, the first to leap from the landing craft. The water was shallow. He thrust his command saber forward and shouted: "Attack!"

A bugler standing knee-deep in the seawater sounded the charge. Boat after boat of marines and armed sailors sprang into the knee-deep water and waded ashore. Within minutes, Shi Zhiqi had put two companies and two twelve-pounder mountain howitzers onto Upper Hengdang Island's western shore. They mopped up all remaining Ming troops and captured roughly fifty prisoners. Shi Zhiqi ordered an immediate advance toward the island's eastern side.

According to intelligence, Upper Hengdang Island held eight hundred government troops. The eastern battery mounted twelve newly added Red Barbarian cannons. The fortification had been under construction since the Wanli reign, making it relatively sturdy. Five hundred garrison troops defended it. A frontal assault would mean enduring not only the eastern battery's fire but also flanking fire from Yaniangxie Battery across the water.

Since all the battery's guns pointed eastward, the rear lay completely undefended. When Shi Zhiqi's two marine companies appeared from flank and rear—and the two mountain howitzers began lobbing shells into the position—the entire garrison's morale crumbled. The heavy Red Barbarian cannons could not be easily repositioned. With enemies coming from behind, soldiers armed with swords, spears, and three-barreled muskets were neither able nor willing to resist. Only the battery commander's personal guards launched a brave hand-to-hand counterattack, killing one marine and wounding three—the sole naval casualties in the entire Upper Hengdang Island engagement.

The marines quickly routed defenders who outnumbered them two to one. Alternating volleys of musket fire and mountain howitzer bombardment turned the battle into a one-sided massacre. Aside from a handful who escaped to Yaniangxie Island by small boat, the remaining government troops scattered in all directions. Soon they were surrendering in droves.

Surrounded by guards, orderlies, and signalmen, Shi Zhiqi entered the smoke-shrouded, corpse-strewn battery and climbed to its highest point. The fortification itself was barely damaged—apparently quite solidly built. Twelve Red Barbarian cannons sat in their positions, having never fired a single shot, still aimed at the waters where enemy ships were supposed to appear.

Shi Zhiqi examined the position and found its design peculiar. The so-called "battery" was merely a circular earth-and-stone platform, faced with brick and stone on the exterior. Twelve Red Barbarian cannons were mounted atop it, all facing seaward. Behind the platform stood only a simple brick wall—no defensive works whatsoever, not even a ditch. The defenders apparently had not considered the possibility of enemies landing and attacking from the rear.

Even in a frontal assault, the total absence of auxiliary defenses around the platform meant that attackers, once they reached its base, would enter a dead zone where the guns could not depress far enough to engage them. They could then climb up at their leisure and fight. Shi Zhiqi estimated that a single marine company attacking frontally could take this battery in less than half an hour—though not without casualties.

"Send a message!" Shi Zhiqi planted one foot on the battery parapet and gazed across the eastern channel at Wu Mountain. He slashed his command saber through the air. "The Key to the Bogue is in the hands of our Marine Corps!"

While the battle for Upper Hengdang Island proceeded, another force landed at the Luwan Battery site on the riverbank west of the island. The hundred soldiers guarding that position fled without a fight, abandoning the half-built battery and piles of construction materials. With this, the Bogue's second line of defense—its main line—had been breached. Even without attacking Yaniangxie Mountain and destroying the batteries there, the Pearl River's gates now stood wide open.

Yet Chen Haiyang wanted complete control of the Bogue. He promptly ordered the mortar boats towed by landing craft into the eastern channel to shell Yaniangxie Battery. The shallow-draft landing craft and mortar boats sailed close along the Upper Hengdang Island shore. Being beyond range, the various batteries on Yaniangxie Island across the channel could only watch helplessly.

At the field headquarters atop Wu Mountain, chaos reigned. No one had expected the painstakingly constructed defense system to collapse so easily. Fan Wencai trembled. "How... how could the battery fall so quickly..."

"The crop-heads actually landed on the other side and attacked from behind—utterly despicable!" Li Xijue, who had come from Zhaoqing to inspect the Bogue defenses, had "luckily" witnessed the entire spectacle firsthand. His face was ashen. Though he called it despicable, he finally understood what state of mind Lü Yizhong must have been in when he wrote that letter.

"It's all right—the crop-heads who landed numbered only two or three hundred." Xu Tingfa struggled to maintain composure. But when the Australian red flags and blue-white banners rose over Upper Hengdang Island, his heart had already plummeted. With Upper Hengdang lost, the entire Bogue chokepoint had lost its ability to blockade. To rebuild the defense, they would have to recapture the island.

He summoned a junior general. "Immediately recruit three hundred volunteers! Five taels' reward per man—prepare to launch a counterattack across the water to retake Upper Hengdang Island! Ten taels each after success! An additional five taels for the wounded! Twenty taels for the dead!"

"Understood, Your Excellency!" The junior general departed immediately. Xu Tingfa meanwhile ordered sampans and small boats prepared for crossing the eastern channel to launch the counterattack.

Just as he was mustering forces for the assault, the ten mortar boats already anchored at the foot of Upper Hengdang Island's eastern battery opened fire.

With a thunderous roar from the 280mm mortars, dark iron spheres rose from billowing smoke, trailing burning tails as they arced down upon the battery. The Yaniangxie Battery that Xu Tingfa, Fan Wencai, and their colleagues had painstakingly built—expending thousands of laborers and tens of thousands of taels—trembled and collapsed under the mortar fire. Shattered brick and stone were hurled skyward. Muffled explosions came one after another. The entire battery seemed utterly shrouded in smoke and flame.

Xu Tingfa's planned counterattack was completely disrupted. Under such ferocious bombardment, no fool would rush to the beach to "counterattack" for five taels of silver.

Watching the battery get pounded—fires and smoke erupting everywhere, walls collapsing, platforms crumbling—yet showing no sign of returning fire—Li Xijue grew frantic. "Why aren't our Red Barbarian cannons firing?"

"They can't reach!" Xu Tingfa snapped. "At this distance, the shots just splash into the water!"

"What?! Even the Red Barbarian cannons..." Li Xijue's face went dead white. He had always viewed the Red Barbarian cannon as an unprecedentedly powerful military weapon. Now he learned of the existence of guns with even greater range and power. Having watched the entire battle unfold—government troops taking hit after hit with no effective response whatsoever—his frustration became unbearable. His vision went black, and he collapsed in a faint.

Xu Tingfa had no time to concern himself with this Advisor Li from the Governor-General's yamen. Not only was his counterattack plan now impossible to execute, but the crop-head fleet was already entering the eastern channel.

If only Upper Hengdang Island had not fallen, he could have "given the Australians a severe thrashing!" Xu Tingfa thought with considerable regret. He clung to one last hope: the batteries on Yaniangxie, though suppressed by artillery fire, might still open fire upon seeing enemy ships enter range.

Shi Fourteen's 5th Squadron, ordered to exploit the suppression and smoke from the mortar boats' explosive shells, closed until they lay just 380 meters from the battery's front. There they dropped anchor to fix their position, then added their broadside guns to the bombardment.

At 380 meters, the Red Barbarian cannons on the battery certainly possessed the capability to seriously damage these special-service boats. But after thirty minutes of mortar bombardment, every soldier on the batteries was either dead or fled. On the exposed gun positions, no one remained to fire the pieces. All they could see were the battery works collapsing section by section under the artillery fire, like sandcastles before a rising tide. Occasionally a magazine was struck and detonated, sending black-tinged flames shooting skyward.

Two more squadrons entered the eastern channel for close-range bombardment. After one hour and twenty-five minutes of shelling, all batteries on Yaniangxie Island had lost combat effectiveness. Three hundred marines and sailor landing troops boarded sampans and went ashore, entering the batteries through walls now reduced to rubble. At 17:07, all batteries had fallen. The garrison soldiers left behind two hundred corpses; approximately four hundred had been taken prisoner.

Xu Tingfa and the others were ashen-faced. Watching the batteries fall, counterattacking was now out of the question—even remaining on Wu Mountain might prove fatal. The only option was to immediately retreat to the Bogue Garrison and make a stand there. But just as Xu Tingfa moved to arrange officers and troops for the withdrawal, someone shouted in his ear: "Not good! The crop-heads are climbing the mountain!"

Instantly, the entire field headquarters atop Wu Mountain erupted in panic. Officers and soldiers who had been observing the battle all afternoon had no will left to fight. At once they scattered like frightened animals, fleeing in all directions. Except for Xu Tingfa's few personal guards, who maintained enough composure to protect the command post, the entire encampment descended into utter chaos.

"Your Excellency, we must go now!" Several guards did not bother asking—they hoisted Xu Tingfa and the others onto horses and, surrounding them protectively, fled down the mountain.

(End of Chapter)