Black Corporation: Joseon [EN]: Chapter 1156

1156. Who Pays the Price? You Do (8)

Upon receiving Charles VIII’s command, Count Montfort immediately dispatched 20 aircraft for transport.

The maintenance crew, responsible for aircraft upkeep, the artisans in charge of the airframe and internal combustion engine, and their various tools—including small furnaces and steam engines—were carefully loaded onto railway cars.

Following them were freight cars filled with fuel tanks and ammunition. After the train carrying these supplies departed, disassembled aircraft were loaded onto the cars.

Each wide, flatbed car held a fuselage with detached wings, neatly arranged beside it.

“Hey! Don’t pull the ropes too tight! We can’t damage the fuselage and wings!”

“This is too loose! Are you going to do your job like that? Who’s in charge here! Come out now!”

Amidst the soldiers and artisans, their nerves frayed to ensure the safe loading of the aircraft, one worker spoke to a colleague.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“They say these are airplanes? They fly in the sky?”

“That’s right. Why?”

“Then why are they being carried on a train? Why don’t they just fly?”

To this question, accompanied by flapping hands mimicking wings, the colleague replied with an indifferent expression.

“Chickens can’t fly either. Maybe airplanes are chickens, not pigeons.”

“Ah!”

A squadron soldier who overheard the workers’ conversation nearby held back a retort, muttering.

“This is why ignorant people are like this…”

* * *

The airplanes developed by France during this period had many limitations.

The most noticeable was their limited flight range.

With full fuel tanks, the maximum range was 50 leagues (approximately 210 km or 130 miles). Removing weapons and carrying only the pilot could extend this, but would negate their military value.

The airframe’s durability was also limited. After about 20 takeoffs and landings, a complete overhaul was required. Combat maneuvering or high-G [gravitational force] flights shortened this cycle even further.

Beyond the airframe’s limitations, France itself presented challenges.

There were no airfields on the route from Lorraine to Spain. Securing open spaces at intervals for takeoff and landing, and pre-positioning fuel, might have been possible, but the airframe’s durability remained a concern. Therefore, transporting them comfortably by train was the chosen solution.

* * *

After dispatching the airplanes, Count Montfort and his unit boarded the train south. The unit members, full of bravado, curiosity about foreign lands, and fighting spirit, were initially cheerful, but their mood soured at the Franco-Spanish border.

“Damn it!”

From the lowest private to Count Montfort, everyone cursed.

The cause of their fury was the railroad.

The railway gauge [distance between the rails] differed slightly between France and Spain. While Europe used units inherited from ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome—cubits, fathoms, leagues, etc.—the exact length of these units varied from country to country. Consequently, cargo had to be unloaded and reloaded onto freight cars of the other country at the border.

Normally, this would be a ‘slightly’ inconvenient situation, but in wartime, it was a major problem. The transfer station at the border, overwhelmed with ammunition and supplies from France to Spain, was overflowing.

It was an inconvenience that would make even a saint curse.

Consequently, Count Montfort had to grab the Spanish railway manager and resort to threats and persuasion.

“Immediately! You must send our airplanes first!”

“Many freights arrived earlier. Breaking the order will result in punishment!”

“Those airplanes need to go to Gibraltar right now!”

“Those freights are also going to Gibraltar now! Wait your turn. We will process it as quickly as possible.”

Because of the railway manager’s insistence on protocol, Count Montfort had to resort to other measures.

He sent letters to the Regent of Spain, Fernando II, and the commander in Gibraltar, Marquis of Alba.

After a few frustrating days, the Spanish cavalry arrived at the transfer station.

“This is an order from the Regent.”

“…I will act according to the order.”

After confirming the order, the railway manager summoned the workers.

“Move those freights first!”

Count Montfort’s unit succeeded in cutting in line.

* * *

While Count Montfort was stuck at the border, the Spanish army in Gibraltar was being harassed by the Imperial Army.

Just before dawn, as the day began, Imperial Army soldiers were rising and moving in their camp.

“Did you all get your meals?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s start today. Wake those guys up.”

“Yes.”

Imperial Army soldiers, following their commander’s orders, headed to their assigned trenches.

Shortly after, the Imperial Army’s artillery opened fire.

Bang! Kaboom! Bang!

The shells began to strike the Spanish army’s trench lines.

Kaboom!

“Shelling!”

“I already know!”

The Spanish soldiers, answering roughly, quickly ducked or took shelter in bunkers, cursing towards the Imperial Army camp.

“You goddamn Imperial bastards! Let us sleep! Let us sleep!”

“We need to eat before we fight!”

Through the ongoing battles, the Imperial Army had learned the Spanish army’s habits.

-The Spanish army starts fighting after sunrise.

-They also have breakfast at this time.

-They don’t really like night battles.

“Ah…. We don’t like night battles either.”

“Of course, of course, we need to sleep at night.”

“Not letting people sleep is not something a person should do.”

Despite these sentiments, the Imperial Army exploited the Spanish army’s habits.

When the day’s fierce artillery battle ended and the soldiers fell asleep, the Imperial Army bombarded the Spanish camp, just as they were falling into a deep sleep.

Moreover, the attacks weren’t across all fronts.

Every night, irregularly, they concentrated short but powerful shelling on a few places.

Therefore, even at night, the Spanish army soldiers on the front lines couldn’t get a good night’s sleep, unsure of where the next shelling would hit.

Spending the night in such a daze, the Spanish soldiers cursed the Imperial Army.

“Don’t those damn bastards ever sleep…”

As dawn broke, the Spanish soldiers, overcome by sleepiness, began to nod off. Right then, the Imperial Army’s full-scale shelling pounded the Spanish army’s base. The Spanish soldiers hurriedly jumped into the trenches or dove into the bunkers amidst the all-out shelling.

As a bonus, breakfast was ruined.

The Marquis of Alba, upon receiving this report, gnashed his teeth.

“Such vile tactics! Truly vile! There are morals and etiquette to be observed even in war! You have to let people sleep! No! It’s not just sleep! You have to let them eat!”

The Spanish army and the Marquis of Alba were furious at the ‘Imperial Army’s vile and cunning battle tactics,’ but the Imperial Army also had something to say.

“We didn’t do it on purpose.”

Inflicting insomnia on the Spanish army with nighttime shelling was indeed deliberate.

However, irregularly targeting only a few places on the Spanish army’s trench line was the result of a lottery. Among the artillery batteries with cannons in good condition, the battery selected by lottery was in charge of the ‘furious nighttime bombardment.’

During that time, the remaining batteries maintained and rested their cannons.

“We need to sleep too.”

Eventually, the Marquis of Alba, unable to bear it any longer, sent an envoy to protest.

“This is the Imperial Army commander’s reply. ‘There are no morals to uphold against invaders. This is the rightful territory of the mighty Empire, acquired by us as the victors.'”

“Damn bastards!”

The Marquis of Alba and his staff, upon hearing the envoy’s reply, ground their teeth.

“Let’s retaliate with cannons!”

Enraged, the Spanish and French artillery fiercely shelled the Imperial Army’s positions on the ridge. However, the Imperial Army’s positions were better camouflaged than expected, and most of the shells fell in the wrong places.

Some shells did hit, but the Imperial Army’s strongly built positions withstood them. Moreover, the shelling from the Spanish and French artillery was steadily weakening.

This was because they were steadily losing cannons and soldiers due to the Imperial Army’s counter-battery fire and the albatrosses’ bombing. Although they had deployed the cannons in protective positions desperately built after the initial albatross bombing, these makeshift measures were insufficient.

Therefore, the Spanish and French artillery had to struggle daily to save even one more cannon.

“It’s only because the front line is steadily advancing that the soldiers’ morale is holding up.”

The Marquis of Alba, with a tired expression, muttered while staring at the map.

As the Marquis said, the Spanish army was steadily advancing at least 100 to 200 yards. It was literally an ‘advance route paved with the corpses of soldiers.’

A fierce battle was continuing, causing at least 500 casualties every day. Nevertheless, the soldiers were holding on because they were getting closer to the Imperial Army.

“Just a little further to the high ground! We just need to seize the high ground!”

They were enduring by focusing on the Imperial Army’s positions that were getting closer.

Conversely, the Imperial Army was gradually being pushed back.

“Good! Just a little further! Once we seize these ridges, the Imperial Army’s coastal battery will be ours soon!”

The Marquis of Alba clenched his fist while looking at the newly drawn front line on the map.

The front line was getting closer to the problematic coastal battery. However, the Spanish army’s flank was also becoming increasingly exposed. From the Marquis of Alba to the commanders below him, no one was paying attention to this.

Their eyes were only on the coastal battery and the ridges connected to it.

Unintentionally, the Imperial Army artillery’s despicable nighttime shelling had created a situation of ‘putting the cart before the horse.’ [Prioritizing the less important thing over the important one]

“No matter what, we will definitely crush those despicable bastards! We will definitely crush them!”

Before they knew it, the situation had become one where secondary objectives were overshadowing the primary goals.

A few days later, a messenger visited the Marquis of Alba’s headquarters. The senior aide, after confirming the document brought by the messenger, ran to the Marquis of Alba with a bright face.

“Urgent news from Puerto Real! Airplanes have arrived from France!”

The Marquis of Alba, upon hearing the senior aide’s report, asked with a bright face.

“Really? When can they be deployed?”

“In three days!”

“Three days is too far away! Tell them to deploy as soon as possible!”

“Understood!”