plumnovel 62. The Argan Campaign 3
62. The Argan Campaign 3
Twelve cannons roared in turn, their dense barrage repeatedly washing over the advancing enemy lines, holding them back from several waves of fierce attacks. However, the Maratha allied forces were numerous, their human waves crashing forward relentlessly, and firepower alone could not completely halt their advance.
Manu Bap, a fierce general under Cindia, led 1,500 elite Arab mercenaries, taking advantage of the smoke to obscure their vision, and swiftly advanced, heading straight for the forward positions of the 108th Regiment.
In the blink of an eye, this fierce mercenary army and the Irish battalion were completely entangled in a fierce battle, with enemy and friendly soldiers intertwined and the orderly battle line completely disintegrated.
A large number of Maratha infantrymen had already advanced to the front line, all falling into the blind spots of the artillery fire.
Chrysler watched the chaotic melee, his heart filled with anxiety, yet he dared not open fire rashly. Once the shells were fired, they would surely inflict heavy casualties on his own soldiers. He immediately ordered the artillery to be turned around, shifting the line of fire backward, and focusing all his efforts on bombarding the enemy's reinforcements, cutting off the enemy's supplies and reinforcements at the front line.
Despite the artillery fire's best efforts to block them, the Marata troops who stormed the 108th Regiment's position still numbered as many as four or five thousand, and the bloody hand-to-hand combat had completely begun.
Irish soldiers are known for their fierce temperament and fearlessness in close combat, fighting desperately with bayonets fixed to their rifles.
However, the Arab mercenaries were constantly on the move, fighting in all directions. Their fighting techniques were ruthless and cunning, and coupled with their superior numbers, the battle quickly turned against them.
The clanging of metal against metal rose and fell, a cacophony of dull thuds as rifle butts struck bones, the hissing of scimitars slicing through flesh, and the agonizing screams of the dying mingled together.
The yellow earth beneath their feet was repeatedly trampled, raising clouds of dust. Blood-stained uniforms were torn and writhed together, and soldiers who had fallen during the charge were instantly crushed by the chaotic footsteps.
An Irish soldier plunged his bayonet into an enemy soldier's chest, but before he could withdraw his weapon, a cold glint suddenly flashed from his side.
He hurriedly dodged to the side, but his arm was still slashed open by the curved blade, leaving a deep wound that exposed the bone. Excruciating pain shot through him, but he still gritted his teeth and fought back with his gun.
Arab mercenaries are accustomed to raiding in pairs, constantly hunting down lone Irish soldiers as they move about.
As the disparity in troop strength widened and casualties continued to rise, the Irish battalion's formation was shattered.
The soldiers' initial bravery slowly dissipated, fear quietly spread, many became hesitant and stiff, and the thought of defeat began to take root.
The cracks in the defense line continued to widen, and large numbers of soldiers involuntarily retreated, making the rout unstoppable.
"This is terrible!"
Seeing that the front line was about to collapse, Dugan immediately led Tom's military police to the front line at full speed.
"No one is allowed to retreat!" He raised his sword and shouted sternly, immediately killing two deserters who had abandoned their positions and fled.
The brutal punishment briefly intimidated the surrounding soldiers, but it failed to completely suppress the rout, with more soldiers fleeing in panic towards the rear.
Seeing that the entire battalion was about to completely collapse, Dugan was extremely anxious. His gaze swept over the frightened Irish faces and he suddenly remembered that when the Irish soldiers gathered together, they liked to sing an Irish folk song.
"Give it a try!"
He dismounted and quickly stopped two soldiers who were retreating in panic: "Halt! Do you know any Irish songs?"
A soldier looked embarrassed: "Sir, my singing isn't very good."
"Sing as loudly as you can, the louder the better!" Dugan ordered sternly, then turned to Tom and instructed, "Get the tin horn out."
Tom immediately took out his large portable tin megaphone; no one knew how he managed to carry such a huge object with him.
The two soldiers immediately began to sing the well-known Irish folk song, "The Cobblestone Road to Dublin."
I bid farewell to my hometown in early June
Farewell to the girl and her hometown
Drinking a strong beer to calm the mind
He gripped the hard, black-thorned wooden staff tightly in his hand.
Trekking through rugged roads to Dublin
One two three four five
Traveling on the rugged ancient road
Heading towards Dublin
Hey ho, let's stride forward!
As dawn breaks, we struggle onward.
Whiskey warms both the body and the heart.
Traversing swamps and mountains, undeterred by wind, rain, and fog.
Irish youth always strive forward
Trekking through rugged roads to Dublin
The brothers stood side by side
War and danger are already close at hand
Undeterred by the enemy, they held firm to their position.
Belief and courage surround you
Trekking through rugged roads to Dublin
One two three four five
Traveling on the rugged ancient road
Heading towards Dublin
Hey ho, let's stride forward!
The two men had rough, hoarse voices, like the neighing of livestock, but their advantage was that they both had loud voices.
The rough singing, amplified by the tin loudspeaker, quickly penetrated the noise of battle and echoed throughout the entire battlefield.
The fleeing soldiers stopped at the sound, their panic gradually subsided, and everyone involuntarily looked in the direction from which the song came.
Dugan noticed that the flag bearer was also among the fleeing soldiers, so he immediately beckoned him over and offered him his own warhorse.
"Mount your warhorse and wave your banner with all your might!"
"Sing together, as loud as you can!" Dugan shouted again, urging the remaining soldiers to join in the singing.
The familiar local accent awakened the soldiers' fighting spirit and sense of belonging. An Irish company commander immediately stopped his fleeing subordinates and began to reorganize the troops.
"Sir, we should return to the flag. The colonel is ordering us to prepare for battle again," a company commander called to his platoon leader and began to straighten their uniforms.
The stirring spirit of the Irish folk songs greatly inspired the Irish soldiers.
The waving military flag is the order to regroup.
Soon, one, two; one team, two teams, countless people surged up once again. They were no longer fleeing and crowding, but gathering in an orderly manner.
Under the command of their sergeants, the soldiers lined up in company-level columns, facing the enemy, and sang battle songs.
More and more scattered Irish soldiers stopped and gathered in an orderly fashion, following the military flags and songs, no longer fleeing in panic.
The officers at all levels quickly regrouped their men and formed new ranks in company formation. The soldiers rapidly loaded ammunition, their guns all aimed at the invading enemy.
Before long, the Irish soldiers regained their fierce momentum, and the previously scattered troops were reorganized in a short time.
Manu Bap, leading his Arab mercenaries, pursued the enemy, fully expecting to crush the remaining enemy forces in one fell swoop. However, what came into view was a well-prepared and highly motivated Irish army, leaving him utterly astonished.
"Fire!" the officer roared.
A dense volley of gunfire erupted, and lead bullets rained down, instantly throwing the unsuspecting Arab mercenaries into chaos.
"All troops, charge!"
As soon as the order was given, the Irish soldiers roared and charged at the enemy again, launching a fierce counterattack.
Taking advantage of the chaos of the battle, Dugan ordered his orderly to fetch his rifle, his eyes fixed on Manu Bap in the crowd.
Although Dugan did not know Manu Bap, his attire clearly indicated that he was an officer.
Dugan steadily steadied his weapon, held his breath, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
boom!
The bullet accurately struck Manu Bap's right eye, pierced his skull, and exited from the back of his head, shattering large chunks of his skull and sending them flying. The enemy general died on the spot.