Chapter 516: Skirmish Pits
When he abruptly uttered the phrase "skirmish pits," a wave of bewilderment rippled through the gathered crowd. No one understood what he meant.
Li Daoxuan understood their confusion perfectly. In this era of the Ming Dynasty, the concept of a "skirmish pit" was utterly alien.
Historically, "skirmish pits" were born from the advent of rifled muskets, evolving in tandem with the tactics of skirmishers themselves.
Unlike conventional troops, skirmishers didn't necessitate grand formations or expansive, level terrain. Operating in small, agile units, they would dig shallow depressions in the earth, using these "pits" for cover against enemy fire and to launch their own volleys.
These improvised shelters were precisely what he called skirmish pits.
Gao Family Village already employed skirmishers, but their practical combat experience remained limited, and thus the evolution of their tactical doctrines had been slow. For these diligent villagers to independently devise the concept of skirmish pits, it would likely take dozens more engagements.
And in those upcoming battles, failing to grasp the utility of "skirmish pits" could tragically lead to avoidable casualties.
Li Daoxuan had no desire for his people to pay for tactical epiphanies with their lives. He would simply fast-track their learning. "Outside the water stronghold, on either flank of the open ground, delineate the probable boundaries of the main battlefield," he instructed. "Then, extending a hundred or two hundred paces beyond those edges, dig numerous small earthen pits, each large enough to hide five or six soldiers. Before the engagement begins, our men will lie in ambush within them."
No sooner had the Puppet Heavenly Lord concluded than Lao Nanfeng’s eyebrows shot up in comprehension. "Digging pits on the flanks of the battlefield, concealing our musketeers to ambush and pick off the enemy general—that's a brilliant stratagem!"
Xing Honglang dismissed the worry with a wave of her hand. "That's easily remedied. We'll cover the pits with wooden planks and then layer grass over them for perfect concealment. At a distance of two hundred paces from the main engagement, enemy scouts won't bother with a meticulous search. They'll gallop through, never noticing the subtle camouflaged depressions on the ground."
Gao Chuwu, always straightforward, broke the thoughtful silence. "After firing their muskets, won't the few soldiers ambushed in those pits be in grave danger?" he asked, a worried frown replacing his usual grin.
His point was valid.
Everyone immediately understood: those five or six musketeers, even if they successfully felled Wang Guozhong, would be swiftly encircled and overwhelmed by his enraged subordinates.
A murmur of puzzlement spread amongst them. The Heavenly Lord, ever benevolent and deeply concerned for their safety, seemed unlikely to dispatch a small unit on a suicidal mission to assassinate an enemy general. This particular strategy didn't align with the Heavenly Lord's customary approach.
As their doubts lingered, the Puppet Heavenly Lord spoke once more, his voice cutting through their uncertainty. "I never instructed you to dig *just* one pit," he clarified. "Dig many. Dig a vast network, scattered across a wide expanse of terrain."
"Ah!" Lao Nanfeng, ever the quickest to grasp new concepts, instantly saw the bigger picture. "So that's the genius of it! Not merely ambushing a small squad to eliminate the enemy general, but concealing an entire force to launch a devastating flank attack! A truly brilliant maneuver!"
The others around him, too, slowly began to comprehend.
Only Gao Chuwu and Zheng Daniu, the amiable but less astute duo, remained somewhat baffled. Zheng Daniu raised a hand, "Will this actually make fighting *easier*?"
Lao Nanfeng gave a knowing chuckle. "I'm not certain I've entirely deciphered the Heavenly Lord's intent, but allow me to speculate. Traditionally, battles relied on organized formations of spearmen, shield-bearers, and archers; without a disciplined array, they possessed no combat effectiveness. However, our rifled musketeers don't require such rigid formations—only our smoothbore musketeers do. So, we can position the smoothbore musketeers in a defensive line at the front of the stronghold. Meanwhile, our rifled musketeers can lie in wait, concealed in a vast network of pits, ready to engage the enemy in a loose, or rather, completely unformed, arrangement. Once the pits are dug, planks laid, and grass meticulously placed, enemy scouts will find them nearly impossible to detect. Then, when our main artillery opens fire and the smoothbore musketeers engage the enemy head-on, the rifled musketeers on both flanks will rise from their hidden positions. They'll first eliminate Wang Guozhong from hundreds of paces away, then unleash a devastating, concentrated fire into the heart of the battlefield. Every last one of the remaining bandits will be utterly annihilated."
This time, even Zheng Daniu's eyes lit up with understanding. "Popping up from the flanks to open fire on the enemy—that'll surely leave them utterly disoriented, hahahaha!"
The seasoned commanders present were all immensely pleased by this revelation.
To think skirmishers could be deployed in such a revolutionary manner!
What's more, the enemy wouldn't be able to replicate this "skirmish pit" strategy. Their armies relied on rigid formations to unleash their combat power; without them, they were merely a disorganized rabble. They simply couldn't dig pits and engage in a pit-to-pit confrontation with our forces.
Lao Nanfeng's spirits soared. Retrieving paper and ink, he swiftly sketched a map of the water stronghold. After a brief calculation, he determined the expansive area that a three-thousand-man military formation would typically encompass.
He then drew two long lines flanking that calculated area, roughly one or two hundred paces distant, and gestured emphatically at them. "Along the edges of these lines, we'll dig our 'skirmish pits.' Once prepared, our soldiers will conceal themselves within, covered by planks and layered with foliage. Wang Guozhong will be utterly incapable of anticipating such a defense."
Humans, after all, only guard against what they comprehend; they cannot possibly foresee what lies beyond their understanding.
Even if Wang Guozhong possessed ten thousand times his current cunning, he would never conceive of an enemy abandoning traditional military formations to hide soldiers in a multitude of small earthen pits.
"We'll dig the pits tonight!" Xing Honglang declared, rising to her feet. "Attempting this in broad daylight would risk detection by enemy scouts from miles away. We'll operate under the cloak of darkness, silent as ghosts. Wang Guozhong is bound to walk right into our snare."
Upon hearing the words "digging pits," Gao Chuwu and Zheng Daniu instantly brightened, their faces alight with enthusiasm. "We might falter in other tasks," Gao Chuwu boomed, "but when it comes to heavy labor, you can't leave us out! We'll take two teams and get to work."
"Hold on!"
Padi Tu, ever eager for the spotlight, abruptly rose to his feet. "Digging pits? You lot are utterly out of your depth! This Rabbit Master must personally take charge!"
The others exchanged amused glances. "Now this is *your* specialty, too?"
Padi Tu puffed out his chest. "Do you honestly believe the 'Rabbit' in 'Rabbit Master' is merely a whimsical title?"
The others rolled their eyes. "Don't boast about something so utterly mundane!"
And so, under the cover of a moonless, windswept night...
Padi Tu, true to his word, personally led a sizable detachment of soldiers, each armed with a small entrenching shovel. They slipped stealthily from the water stronghold, heading to the flanks of the battlefield, a hundred or two hundred paces beyond Lao Nanfeng's calculated range. There, they commenced a frantic digging effort.
They dug and dug within the designated battlefield area, then meticulously covered each little earthen pit with wooden planks, and finally, carefully laid grass and foliage on top, as if planting adorable flowers.
As dawn approached, they swiftly covered all the pits and retreated to the water stronghold for much-needed rest. The following night, fresh teams were dispatched to continue the clandestine work.
Meanwhile, back at the Qichuan Ferry...
Cargo ships arrived from the Qichuan Ferry, delivering several formidable cannons to the water stronghold. These weren't, of course, hastily removed from the ships themselves—it would have been ludicrous to install them only to dismantle them again.
Instead, they were freshly forged pieces from Qichuan's burgeoning cannon foundry.
And these cannons weren't crafted from the steel tubing Li Daoxuan occasionally provided. They were entirely the product of the villagers' own blacksmiths, forged by hand using blueprints and methods supplied by Song Yingxing. They were dark, rough-hewn, and decidedly less aesthetically pleasing than the sleek, stainless steel cannons, but their power was undeniable.
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