Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

Chapter 291: Retaking the Position

“No, we must immediately retake the high ground. The artillery cannot fall into enemy hands.”

Old Knight Schroeder made a decisive decision. “Andrew, you command the fourth battalion to cover our rear. Claude, follow me with the second battalion in a charge to the high ground.”

Andrew silently nodded without objection. Although he was a noble, he dared not act arrogantly in front of Schroeder, the knight.

However, Claude expressed his concern: “Commander, our forces are still too few. Perhaps…”

“No!” Schroeder firmly waved his hand and insisted, “If we delay, they’ll drag away the cannons!”

As they debated whether to immediately counterattack the high ground, someone joyfully shouted while pointing north: “The troops from behind are catching up!”

Everyone immediately looked northward, seeing a troop winding its way along the road toward the battlefield.

This was a force composed of Alda sailors, militia, and auxiliary troops recruited from the Carter family’s territory, roughly numbering over a thousand.

The sailors were equipped with breastplates and muskets, the militia with breastplates and standard-issue spears, while the newly recruited auxiliaries only had simple melee weapons—mostly seized from the Carter family.

With several whistles, rockets burst in mid-air. The distant troops, seeing the signal, started to run towards them.

Once the two armies joined, the commander of this troop, Admiral Tirpitz of the Third Fleet, learned of the artillery position falling into enemy hands from Schroeder. He shrugged and asked, “Seems we’re a bit late. What now, shall we take it back?”

“Of course, we can’t let the artillery fall into enemy hands,” Schroeder stated. “Gentlemen, I’ve just thought of something. The enemy has powerful long-range weapons like longbows; we need to draw well-protected soldiers from various units.”

Ten minutes later, 600 soldiers were assembled, not just equipped with breastplates but also helmets.

Schroeder patted Andrew’s shoulder: “Baron, we leave our rear in your hands.”

Andrew saluted him, “Rest assured, Commander. And, please call me Colonel.”

Schroeder nodded, drew his saber, pointed towards the high ground, and shouted, “Attack!” He took the lead and strode forward.

“Thump-thump-thump~ Thump-thump-thump~”, as his voice fell, the rhythmic sound of marching drums rose. Behind Schroeder, 600 soldiers divided into two groups, led by Claude and Tirpitz, followed the drumbeats towards the high ground.

The enemy at the artillery position, who were still figuring out how to use the cannons, quickly assembled upon noticing Alda’s counterattack. From afar, they seemed to number over a thousand, mostly longbowmen, with many armed with spears and swords.

When Alda’s army was 200 meters away, the mercenary longbowmen began to shoot, and a rain of arrows descended.

The attacking soldiers, wearing breastplates and helmets, had their limbs exposed—not just for mobility but also because fully armoring every soldier like a knight in iron cans would be financially unfeasible for even the prospering finances of Alda.

Arrows clanged off armor, but those hitting flesh brought screams. Every few steps, soldiers fell, moaning. Some, hit in vital areas, might never walk properly again.

Yet, compared to their contemporaries, they were fortunate. Injured soldiers were immediately attended by medics and carried to the rear on stretchers. At the makeshift battlefield hospital, army surgeons used clean bandages, boiled water, and sterilized surgical tools to treat them, greatly increasing their chances of survival compared to others.

The longbowmen of the Duke’s army felt no pity for their screams. Wave after wave of arrows were launched. From their high vantage point with a clear view, Alda’s army was an excellent target.

Humans, after all, are flesh and blood. Facing such heavy casualties, even the well-drilled Alda soldiers, trained in strict marching and formation disciplines, couldn’t help but feel fear.

The troops’ marching speed gradually slowed down, and some soldiers’ steps began to falter.

…

The un-captured artillery was not used to support the counterattack on the high ground but instead to bombard the Duke’s main army, which was launching another assault.

Fergus and Emerson also noticed Alda’s attempt to retake the artillery. Their army, having rested, launched a fierce attack, involving not just cavalry but also infantry.

The artillery was positioned in front of the infantry formations. The gunners, performing exceptionally, inflicted heavy casualties on the enemy. As the cavalry approached, they abandoned the artillery after firing grapeshot and retreated for protection within the infantry’s square formations. After repelling an attack wave, they returned to their artillery positions.

The arriving reinforcements brought spears, which proved more effective than rifles with bayonets in repelling cavalry charges.

The sound of gunfire, battle cries, and thundering hooves filled the air. For several rounds, the Duke’s army struggled to break through Andrew’s force of over a thousand men.

…

Schroeder’s brow was furrowed with concern. If this continued, morale would plummet before they even reached the enemy.

He stopped, turned to face his soldiers, indifferent to the whizzing arrows behind him.

“Is this where we give up? Look at yourselves, do you even display a tenth of your training’s effectiveness?”

“Pathetic. Will people mock us as a mere decorative force?”

The old knight lamented, “The first and third battalions faced the same longbowmen and attacks at Fort Bidou, but they fearlessly marched right up to them and returned the favor with bullets and bayonets.”

“Show your courage, prove that we are heroes, no less than them.”

…

Chastened by Schroeder’s stern rebuke and motivation, many soldiers regained their composure and stood tall.

Schroeder timely ceased his speech; it wasn’t the time for lengthy rhetoric. He raised his sword forward again: “I declare once more—Attack!”

“Thump-thump-thump~ Thump-thump-thump~”, the marching drums sounded rhythmically again.

As he walked, Schroeder shouted with all his might:

“If I move forward, follow me!”

“If I retreat, execute me!”

“If I die, avenge me!”

His words seemed to ignite something in everyone’s heart.

…

“Halt!”

Finally, they were close enough to see the enemy’s noses.

“Ready!”

The first row of soldiers immediately knelt on one knee, while the second and third rows pointed their rifles forward, staggered.

“Fire!”

The thunderous volley from three rows of muskets was terrifying, causing many enemy soldiers to shiver in fear.

More dreadful was the sight of dense smoke rising, as black gun barrels spat deadly flames, reaping lives en masse.

Almost an entire row of the Duke’s army fell.

With a roar, the troops behind became agitated.

Schroeder swung his sword forward, “Charge!”

“Charge! For Victory!”

Echoing their officer, the soldiers raised their bayonets and surged forward!

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