In the evening, the setting sun and the cool breeze was blowing. This was the best time of the summer day in Evora, but on the battlefield, no one cared about this. Because the god of death was lying in the sky, paying attention to the ruthless battle between the soldiers on both sides with hungry eyes.

After the French took a 300-meter pace (about 3 minutes), the British drum musicians in the front row began to play the original "Grenadier March". Amid the melodious military music, Colonel Winster's order, the British soldiers cheered up one by one, were full of heroic postures and were in high spirits, while maintaining a serious and orderly intensive queue. They followed the commander without saying a word, followed the team's military flag, towards the front battlefield, and towards hell, step by step...

"Silly British guys always think they are smarter than others!" Desai, who was riding on horseback, was ridiculing his opponent unscrupulously.

Although the battle has not really started, it has destined to be the tragic fate of this British rifle regiment. When the effective range of the rifle is above 500 yards and the firing rate remains at 3 rounds per minute, the dense and slow double-sided queue is a typical self-seeking abuse.

"Jose, come and see which guy is Henry Harding?" Desay attracted his intelligence officer to ask.

Soon, under the guidance of Major Passel, Desai followed the map and saw a serious, slender, handsome and strong officer with beautiful black hair curled upwards on his face. The setting sun applied a rosy color on his cheeks. If the time traveler described it, he would be more willing to use the not-so-appropriate idiom "return to the light".

"Poor guy, may God bless you not to be beaten to death later!" Desai muttered, but it felt more like a crocodile prayer to the intelligence officer.

When he was 300 meters away from the center of the battlefield, when the colonel's approval was made, Major Mardan suddenly pulled out his sword. After rushing forward for about 30 meters, he turned his head, pinched his lower lip, and made a sharp whistle behind him.

Immediately afterwards, more than 200 soldiers who had been waiting for a long time also ran out of their respective queues. They gathered on the wings of the major and were at least 2-3 meters apart from each other in a row of scattered soldiers. At the same time, the main force of the infantry regiment commanded by Colonel René also began to slow down, not only reducing the stride to half before, but also moving forward slowly. In addition, the soldiers no longer leaned side by side, and the distance between each other gradually widened with the pace of moving forward.

"Travel left and right, run forward; the target, 200 meters ahead!" Soon, Major Mardan's order was quickly conveyed and executed. The straitors took off the rifles on their shoulders, grabbed them in their hands, and then ran forward.

The scattered soldiers line suddenly pulled out by the French army was clearly seen by the British major opposite. This was a traditional combat method left over from the French army during the Revolutionary period, but the number of scattered soldiers seemed to be a little more. According to common sense, it should not exceed 5% of the total strength of the regiment, which is less than 50 people. However, the French rifle regiment today has sent more than 4 times the scattered soldiers.

Major Harding originally wanted to ask Commander Winston if he also sent a group of scattered soldiers to test the firepower before the battle with the French, but then he took the initiative to dispel this seemingly ridiculous idea. When he was at least 800 yards away from the enemy opposite, he hurriedly sent a large number of scattered soldiers to attack and sniper. That was a foolish thing that only French people with impulsive personality and lack of patience would do.

"By the way, there are shameless North American traitors!" Major Harding thought of another life-and-death enemy of the British Empire. Suddenly, an ominous premonition surged in his heart. It was decades ago that his uncle, a British commander, died in the North American continent. A rebel (Kentucky gunman) from the North American colony shot him accurately and ruthlessly at 500 yards away.

"These French stragglers won't imitate shameless Americans, right?" Harding felt a little anxious.

In the middle of the battlefield, 200 French soldiers were scattered on the 400-meter front line and stood quietly with guns. According to the strict regulations of the rifle regiment, the bayonets on the armed forces must not be put into the muzzle without the permission of the battlefield commander. Because once the rifle is equipped with a heavy bayonet, it will seriously affect the shooting effect 100 meters away.

Major Mardan and several commanders wandered back and forth on the grass behind the soldiers. The major measured the approximate distance between the British army opposite and him, and faced the soldiers' loudly yelling orders, and the commander conveyed them in time.

"Catch the enemy 600 meters, stay calm and listen to my orders!"

The soldiers bit their lower lip lightly and looked at the Red Shirts coming from afar, with moving human targets in their eyes.

"Catch the enemy for 500 meters, and the correction ruler is 400 meters!"

The soldiers picked up the rifle that had been loaded in the morning and pushed the viewing door ruler on it to area 4 accurately.

"Catch the enemy 400 meters, raise your gun, aim, and shoot!"

Thanks to the bright uniforms of the Red Shirts, the soldiers could easily lock in the targets in front of them. Following Major Mardan's prior instructions, the officers led by the team and the drummer band behind him could not be targeted in the first few rounds. It was not to take the opportunity to show off the gentlemanly demeanor on the battlefield, but to consider that once the enemy officers were shot, it would cause British soldiers to lose control due to panic, and evolve from neat and dense formations to separate scattered troops, hindering their next round of shooting. As for military drummers, they are all non-armed combatants. Unless the artillery and bullets are not eye-catching, few people will deliberately shoot these poor people.

After a row of guns rang out, more than 200 conical warheads rushed out of the gun chamber at an initial speed of 290 meters per second, and rushed to the British army 400 meters away, and then crashed into a red human wall. On the other side of the British army, people were constantly shot and injured, and then fell to the ground one after another. A soldier next to Major Harding was also cut off the artery on his neck by a rotating conical bullet. The hot plasma burst out like a volcanic eruption and splashed on the officer's left cheek.

Although comrades fell down around the officers and soldiers, the Redshirts still approached the battlefield ahead with a firm and brave step. They had a daunting aura, able to ignore the influx of death summons, and were disdainful to bend down and bow their heads to signal themselves to surrender; they would not use their hands to block their eyes in order to avoid the bullets that were soaring.

Since landing on the Iberis Peninsula last year, the 29th battle of this British rifle regiment has been around for the 29th battle. Like the previous battles, they are always at the forefront, always facing the first group of guns and bullets fired by the enemy, and overwhelming artillery bombardment. The soldiers are very familiar with death, so there is no need to worry or fear at all. Occasionally, they will pray to God in their hearts to make a damn bullet turn and make way for themselves.

When the unfortunate people around him fall, other living comrades will not have time to be sad or think. They will nimblely jump up small steps, bypass the bodies of dead or injured comrades, get closer to each other, and continue to move forward side by side. Before the officer gives orders, veterans will not follow the new recruits and shoot randomly outside the range in order to conceal their extreme fear.

"Good, brothers, continue to put on bullets and hit these stupid stupid geese!" Mardan smiled quite satisfied. In the first round of shooting, more than 200 mobile scattered soldiers were able to cause about 20 casualties to the British at an extremely long distance of 400 meters. The ratio of firing bullets to causing casualties is as high as 10:1.

This was an unimaginable good result of using smoothbore guns or even Baker rifles before. In the Second Danube Battle, the French military later counted that almost 400 bullets could cause casualties to one enemy soldier.

In addition to the high-performance rifles (bullets) in the hands of soldiers, they also benefited from the good qualities of these scattered soldiers. They were carefully selected and were excellent snipers who were all shots.

After the shooting, the straitors did not check their own results. They bent down slightly and were skillfully filling the ammunition. They took out a fixed ammunition bag from the small black suitcase hanging on the right side of the armed belt, bite the bag with their mouths, and held the conical bullets, then poured all the gunpowder from the ammunition bag into the borehole, then stuffed the conical ammunition bag in their mouths together with the empty ammunition bag (made of cotton wool, used to fill the gun chamber and also have a ignition effect) into the muzzle, and took out the rod to compact it.

After the gun chamber was loaded with bullets and gunpowder, the soldiers finally took out a thunder mercury fire hat from the small black suitcase and put it firmly on the ignition nozzle at the back end of the bolt.

After 15 seconds of time, the second round of shooting was ready. The soldiers raised their rifles and looked for their respective targets at the moving human targets.

"Free shooting!" Major Mardan issued another launch order.

In about one minute, the British army lined up in densely withstood four rounds of volleys from French scattered soldiers. From the initial casualties, there were only 20 casualties, to more than 30 and more than 50, when they were only 300 meters away from the French army, the last round of shooting caused the casualties in the front row of the British army, which had reached a terrifying 80.

"Despicable Frenchman! Where did they get high-performance rifles, not only have a long range, but also have a filling speed of not less than a smoothbore gun." Whether it was Colonel Winston or Major Harding beside him, both of them were bleeding in their hearts. In just one minute to two minutes, nearly two hundred soldiers behind them fell down one after another, which was an unprecedented major casualty since the Rifle Regiment joined the Peninsula War. Especially the flag-holder who was mainly taken care of by the enemy snipers, had already changed to the fourth person.

"Everyone stood at attention, spread left and right, and the drummer retreated to the end of the team!" 300 meters away, Colonel Winston finally abandoned the densely scattered team in advance. The relieved soldiers immediately followed the command of the commander and evacuated the formation one after another, becoming familiar scattered lines.

"The brigade is forward, snipers shoot!" With the colonel's order, dozens of British snipers rushing to the forefront raised their guns and aimed, preparing to fight back against the French's previous provocation.

But at this time, the French scattered soldiers had already been ordered to escape. Just as the British army changed their queues, Major Mardan decisively ordered them to collect and transfer them all, and ran back 200 meters away, with the two sides and rear wings of the main force of the brigade.

At this time, Colonel René's troops were in a shooting formation, and the soldiers in the front row knelt on one knee and lowered their positions, and continued to stand with their guns in the back row. Each row of soldiers no longer crowded with each other shoulder to shoulder, and were about 1 meter apart. The military band stayed 100 meters away from the brigade, sitting on the grass and watching the battle quietly; more than a hundred scattered snipers retreated continued to roam the sides and back ends of the brigade. They did not have to obey the unified orders of the colonel commander, and could casually shoot and kill enemy officers at will.

Facing 500 yards away, rows of terrifying muzzles held by French soldiers, all the British soldiers couldn't help but shout: "Hurry up! Run! Go to the Frenchman, don't stay where you can die!"

After unilaterally encountering the cruel and bloody baptism of French scattered soldiers, the red-shirted army, who had always been brave and calm and obeyed the order, actually violated Colonel Winston's wishes, plucked up the courage to grab the rifle, and rushed forward in one breath. Soon, the sight of the French soldiers became clearer and clearer, and they could see the shadows of the distant red light and shadow moving quickly.

In order to avoid or reduce the dense bullets faced, the running British soldiers continued to accelerate, which added trouble to the accuracy of French shooters. However, losing the command and unified command of superior officers, the running British soldiers have actually become a piece of unrestrained mess, and they can only allow French soldiers who maintain military discipline to shoot one by one from 400 to 200 meters.

The continuous fierce shooting immediately made the French positions and fields shrouded in the smoke from the gun chamber. When the British got closer and closer, only 200 meters away from the French, they were extremely frightened to find that less than half of their comrades were left; and the officers leading the team were only talking about a few people still alive.

"Everyone, raise your gun! Shoot!" Mr. Harding burst out with that cry. As for Colonel Winston, he was hit by a French sniper 300 yards away. A cone-shaped Minnie shot was shot in from his forehead and shot out from the back of his head. The bullet hole as big as a bowl sprayed blood and brain matter. He was almost shot and fell to the ground and died at the same time.

This was the first round of shooting in the British, and only once kept a volley.

In the subsequent counterattack of the French army, Major Harding and other officers fell in a pool of blood. Due to the loss of officer control and military discipline, the surviving British soldiers became dull and frightened, and then began to defeat. They fled from the front line in groups and broke into pieces. In order to escape from the battlefield as soon as possible, some people threw away rifles, bayonets, armed belts, military caps, wooden kettles, and all the burdens they carried.

In this way, the French completely deprived the Redshirts of their pride as brave soldiers with their latest weapons and excellent blocking tactics. In this battle, the British 60th Infantry Regiment lost nearly 600 people, and almost all of the officers were killed or injured; while on the French side, there were only 22 soldiers, 3 officers, and 34 injured.

On the hill, Desey silently put down the telescope in his hand. After a while, he said to the messenger beside him: "Tell me the order, so that Colonel René's rifle regiment will not pursue, and the whole regiment will immediately leave the battlefield and return to the camp! In addition, he will shoot out the Red Cross flag and let the ambulance enter the battlefield, including rescuing the injured British officers and soldiers as much as possible."
Chapter completed!