Wearing British clothes as a second-generation aristocrat

Chapter 104 The Battle of Cooks 11

Chapter 104 The Battle of Cooks 11

"There's an ambush!"

French scouts shouted warnings.

The remaining dozen or so French scouts panicked instantly. Some hurriedly raised their rifles, while others instinctively retreated, and the narrow passage instantly descended into chaos.

Constrained by the muddy swamps on both sides, they could not spread out to the flanks and could only crowd together on the short, hard passageway that was only a few meters wide.

Another French soldier tripped over the barbed wire, and the bells hanging on the wire jingled crisply once again.

A few more shots were fired.

Several more French scouts were shot, their bodies swaying and falling into the swamp, their corpses slowly sinking.

"Get down!" The French corporal quickly ordered the soldiers to squat or lie down.

"So that's what it is!" Only then did the French corporal realize that there were seven or eight iron wires crookedly on the ground, nailed to the ground with thin wooden stakes.

Because of the thick fog in the swamp, it wasn't very noticeable.

"These damn things tripped us up." The French corporal fiddled with the barbed wire, accidentally ringing the bell again.

Instead of a synchronized volley of gunfire, a short, precise single shot rang out.

This time, because the French scouts were all lying on the ground, no one was hit.

The French corporal figured it out: the fog in the swamp was so thick that he couldn't see the enemy fifty meters away, and the enemy on the other side couldn't see him either, so they were just firing at the location where the bell was ringing.

"Watch your step," the French corporal told his soldiers. "Watch where you're going."

"Yes, sir." The French scout then carefully got up and continued forward, tiptoeing around the barbed wire on the ground like a ballerina.

But after walking a few steps, the scout in front felt something bump into his stomach.

Looking down, he saw that he was once again blocked by a barbed wire fence, and the bell hanging on the fence rang again.

"Oh no!" The French corporal didn't have time to shout a warning.

A burst of rapid gunfire rang out.

Seven or eight scouts were hit, including this French corporal who was also hit twice and fell into the swamp next to him with a scream.

"Hoo hoo hoo!" The remaining scouts dared not advance any further. After firing a shot at the enemy, they quickly returned the way they came.

As a result, on the way back, several people were tripped and fell because they were blocked by the barbed wire on the ground.

Gunfire erupted again in the thick fog, and three or four more French scouts were shot dead.

In the end, fewer than five French scouts managed to escape or return.

"Sir, the fog ahead is so thick we can't see the enemy at all, and the road is narrow. The enemy has set up an ambush. They've laid tripwires on the ground," the scout reported to his superior.

The lieutenant immediately reported the incident up the chain of command, and Lakul soon learned of it.

"What's there to be afraid of if there's an ambush?" Lacour didn't take it seriously. "It just means these British guys aren't that stupid, otherwise, wouldn't my victory be completely dishonorable?"

Lacour waved his hand. "Go and call that German guide over."

"Yes, sir."

Before long, a Hanoverian was brought before Lakul.

"You're the guide, do you know when the fog in this swamp will dissipate?" Lakul asked. The guide thought for a moment and said, "The fog will disappear around 9 a.m. after the sun rises."

Lacour took out his gold-plated pocket watch and looked at it; it was only 8 o'clock.

"I can't wait an hour." Lakul waved his hand. "Spearmen, the assault mission is yours."

"Yes, sir." The scout lieutenant saluted Lakul.

Less than 15 minutes later, a large number of French scouts returned to the swamp.

However, the roads between these highland islands are very narrow, with the narrowest point being only 1.5 meters wide and the widest point only 2.5 meters wide.

Therefore, only three French soldiers could pass through side by side at a time.

This time, the scouts were smarter; they first fired randomly towards the outpost, which was shrouded in fog and could be vaguely seen.

The dense bursts of gunfire rose and fell, but had little effect.

The reason is that the French elite troops were equipped with an improved version of the 1777 Charville rifle, which was not much better in performance than the original 1777 Charville rifle.

A very small number of elite officers were equipped with the Versailles rifle Model 1801, the second rifled rifle officially adopted by the French army. It had seven rifling grooves and an effective range of up to 200 meters, but its loading speed was very slow.

Compared to the British Baker rifle, this rifle, in terms of accuracy, was not entirely useless, but rather practically ineffective.

The mission of von Altyn's troops, who were lying in ambush at the outpost, was to block rather than to rout, so they let the French army fire indiscriminately while they remained hidden behind the fortifications.

In any case, the Beck rifle had an effective range of 200 yards, so the defenders could easily hunt down targets from outside the French range.

The bullets all landed on the open ground in front of the outpost wall, without even scratching the guards.

Seeing that the enemy on the other side did not move, some of the French scouts began to attempt a forced charge to break through the barbed wire blockade ahead.

But when the soldiers rushed closer, they found that the crisscrossing iron netting was firmly nailed to the wooden stakes, with sharp spikes pointing outwards.

The wooden stake was driven very deep into the ground and could not be pulled out by hand.

Trying to dismantle the barbed wire by hand is futile; the sharp spikes make it impossible to get a grip. If you try to grab it, your hand will be pierced instantly, and if you ring the bells hanging on the barbed wire, you'll immediately be met with a barrage of fire from the other side.

Time passed by, second by second.

Seeing that the stalemate was not over, a young French lieutenant decided to risk his life and push down the wooden stake with his bare hands to break a gap.

But by this time it was almost 9 o'clock, and the fog in the swamp had dissipated considerably, making the blue of the French military uniforms stand out.

As soon as the group approached within fifty meters of the barbed wire, gunfire erupted from the other side.

Several gunshots rang out, and the lead bullets accurately hit the three men. The remaining two were so frightened that they scrambled backward and fled, not daring to take another step forward.

Hiding behind the fortifications, von Altin saw it clearly: "I never imagined that these thin barbed wire fences would leave the French so helpless!"

On the main road of the rear march, Brigadier General Lakul, who was resting on horseback, heard the dense gunfire ahead and became increasingly anxious.

However, the scout commander arrived at full speed, shouting, "General! The Blexen outpost ahead has been captured by the enemy. They've built fortifications and laid barbed wire to block the pass. The scout squad was ambushed and suffered heavy casualties!"

"Barbed wire? What's that?" Lakul frowned. "What, a few bars of wire have trapped you?"

The lieutenant said, "Sir, their barbed wire is too heavy for us to remove by hand. We request assistance from engineers."

Lakul rolled his eyes at the scout lieutenant, but for the sake of advancing, he still said, "Alright, I'll send engineers to assist you."