With this shooting, the Mongols were almost defeated. Thousands of them were killed.
Thirty-five hundred rounds of lead bullets, compact firing, caused thousands of casualties in one go.
Tuxie Tuhan rolled his gray-yellow eyes, and he instantly understood that his tribe was finished.
Ever since the young man named Yang Fan defeated the Mongols in Monan, he has been worried all day long. The milk tea no longer tastes sweet when he drinks it in his mouth, and the girl's breasts no longer make him feel warm.
He knew that the crisis in Mongolia was coming. To be more precise, the crisis in the Mongolian nobles was coming.
He has heard about the master Narenbaat'er. He doesn't want nobles, he just wants herdsmen.
This made the princes, Jinong, Taiji, Nayan, and herdsmen on the grassland panic and live in fear. Even if they wanted to surrender, there was no way out.
Khalkha's strength is far inferior to that of Monan.
After all, the Tumuts are a large tribe that competes with the Chahars for the leadership of Mongolia. The Khalkhas have always been a peripheral tribe. They are a forgotten corner here.
Only better than the Buryat people. Even more isolated than the Tuva people in Tangnu Ulianghai.
Therefore, the Tumut people sent envoys to him, preparing to unite against Yang Fan. He immediately agreed.
Old wolves are the smartest wolves, otherwise they would not have the chance to live to old age on the grassland.
The reason why he can live to this age is because he never gets emotional when doing things. Instead, he calmly makes the most correct choice.
He saw clearly that these Han people could defeat him even with their camel cavalry.
Because the shouts of killing around him had stopped, there was no need to ask. All camps had been captured. Except for the less than 20,000 cavalry in his hand, he had lost everything.
Now, these people of the Ming Dynasty used camel cannons at one time and dismounted infantry at the other. They were practicing their skills with their tribe. Just like a good cat catching a mouse, let it run a few steps and then catch it back.
He closed his eyes in pain. He felt a heart-wrenching pain.
This is his foundation. It is the family territory. It is the land passed down to him by his ancestors.
And now he must give up all this. Because no matter how late it is, even escape will be impossible.
He winked at his son-in-law and son. At this time, the latter had already been frightened by the power of artillery fire and flintlock guns and turned pale. They instantly understood what he meant. Everyone immediately slowed down their horses.
His son Kuokuo immediately shouted, "Come on, charge forward. If you kill a Han man, you will be promoted to one rank. You will be rewarded with a horse and two women. The slaves will be regular soldiers, and the regular soldiers will be captains of ten."
The Mongolian, who was beaten to the point of collapse, immediately had bloodshot eyes.
Here, it is basically impossible to achieve a class jump. Bloodline has fixed everything. This is also the reason why the Mongols lost the fighting ability of their ancestors.
No one will fight to the death without benefit.
Countless shepherd slaves had red eyes, yelling and rushing forward like crazy.
They wanted too much to change their status as slaves. They slept in sheep pens, ate wild vegetables, and didn't even have a decent leather robe. They were covered with simple sheepskins.
As long as they become serious soldiers, they can change everything.
Suddenly, the Mongols' morale suddenly rose.
They bypassed the fallen horses and corpses in front of them, whipped the horses again, and stimulated the horses' abdomens with spurs, causing the horses to run forward in pain.
At this time, the shooters in the first row of rifles exchanged their rifles, once again held the rifle, aimed, and fired. It was as mechanical as a machine. From the perspective of the Mongolians, these people were old-fashioned and rigid, performing highly consistent movements.
Bang bang bang! Another dense rain of bullets.
Two people load and one fires.
The firing time is compressed to less than ten seconds. This is enough to fire six shots in one minute. The bullets are so dense that there is one shot every half meter.
Napoleon's elite cavalry, the front of a cavalryman is at least one meter. He has a chance to be shot twice.
The formation of the Mongols is more loose, with a distance of three meters between one cavalry and another. But there are also cavalry behind them. The bullets cannot hit the people in front, but will also hit the people behind.
A layer of the Mongols' front was cut off again. Thousands more people fell down, and a large number of war horses fell to the ground neighing.
The Mongols were already red-eyed at this time. They mustered up their bravery, controlled their horses to jump over these corpses and dead horses, and continued to move forward.
The fusiliers exchanged their loaded rifles again and fired again.
The Mongols were already going crazy. They rushed forward one after another. They quickly rushed within fifty meters.
Then they were greeted by two volleys of gunfire.
Fifty meters seemed to be a limit, and several attacks were blocked by intensive shooting.
Because this distance has reached the precise shooting distance of a flintlock gun.
At this distance, aiming is very effective. Although the chamber of Yang Fan's rifle is a smoothbore gun, the chamber made of a steel tube has very high accuracy. The accuracy of shooting is also guaranteed.
And sub-caliber Mini bullets are used. The lead bullets are cylindrical and have a concave butt. Driven by gunpowder gas, the soft lead will automatically expand to seal the barrel.
Everyone, please go and try it soon.]
At this distance, the crosshair on the barrel acts as an aiming aid. Basically, a well-trained shooter can hit the enemy he is aiming at.
This greatly improves the hit rate, which is equivalent to increasing the firepower density.
Fifty meters became an insurmountable life-and-death line. As long as the Mongols hit this line, they would fall to the ground one after another under the intensive volley of guns.
The accumulation of dead horses and corpses further hindered subsequent attacks and greatly delayed the cavalry's impact.
General Kortu ordered the horns to be blown, signaling a desperate charge.
At this time, he knew very well that if he was discouraged, everyone who fell on the charge would die in vain. It would be of no value.
I rushed a few more times, but couldn't get up at all. It just increased the casualties in vain.
"Dismount, the target on horseback is too big. The shield soldiers move forward. Use the dead horses as cover and shoot at them with bows and arrows."
Kortu finally made the right choice. A large number of Mongolians jumped off their horses, hid behind the dead horses, and pushed the dead horses forward on the ice and snow.
A large number of lead bullets hit the dead horses and corpses. The Mongols began to shoot at the Ming army with riding bows.
At this distance, it has reached a distance where bows and arrows can shoot directly.
An Sanxi knew that the military uniforms inside the thick cotton-padded jackets of the soldiers were stab-proof uniforms. After being offset by the thick cotton-padded jackets, they could block bows and arrows. But after all, they did not wear helmets on their heads and their faces were not protected.
Because it is too cold here, more than 30 degrees below zero, and there is strong wind. Wearing an iron helmet will freeze your hair. It is really unbearable, so I always wear a dog skin hat.
Now that the Mongols have changed their tactics, the original volley tactics must be changed. There is no need to cause unnecessary casualties.
"All riflemen lie down, Camel artillery, fire three rounds of shotguns rapidly." An Sanxi ordered. "Camel Gatling gun, be ready."
This chapter has been completed!