I am the prince of the Ming Dynasty, I don't give up

Chapter 618 Infantry Assault
The Confederate "skirmishers" who were separated from the dense formation would quickly lose their courage and run away. Even if they did not dare to run away, they would probably just lie on the ground and pretend to be dead, waiting for the end of the battle, as they had a high level of combat authority.
So Guo Xun felt very confused about how the Northern Army's skirmishers were trained.

In fact, in normal history, skirmisher tactics did not become popular in Europe until the Napoleonic period, because Napoleon had many soldiers full of revolutionary enthusiasm and nationalist enthusiasm, who were willing to become skirmishers and actively carry out this dangerous task.
Guo Kan, who was watching the battle, did not expect that the Northern Army's skirmish line would shake the defense of Xiaoshi Village in this way. From his angle, he could only see the white smoke rising from the shooting over there. However, the gunshots sounded very chaotic, and the Northern Army's skirmish line was getting closer. A horn sounded from the back, and the six phalanxes seemed to be about to start advancing.

Facing the opportunities created by the scattered soldiers, Luo Erhu, the commander of the Northern Army, did not hesitate at all and decisively ordered: "After firing a volley at a distance of 15 steps, everyone will charge with bayonets and defeat them in one go!"

"I obey your command, but can you please advance thirty steps before firing a volley?" The officer who received the order said in a panic.

"Believe me, the first round of volleys is the most important. Let these southern barbarians see who the fucking ancestor of musketeers is. Defeat them completely!"

"kill!"

Looking at the heated scene on the battlefield, Wang Ze in the Northern Army's formation suddenly began to feel his heartbeat speed up, his palms slightly sweaty, and his mouth dry. He had imagined the battlefield countless times, imagined himself calmly and bravely rushing into the enemy camp and becoming a combat hero, but when the battle really started, he found that his hands and feet were actually starting to feel a little weak.

He did not participate in too many battles. When Henan was hit by a disaster, he and his family responded to the call of the Royal Group and immigrated to Liaodong. After more than ten years of good life, when the Guards were expanding, he resolutely joined the Guards. This was his dream and he did not hesitate to do so in order to protect his family's current happy life. There were many soldiers like him in the Northern Army.
There were even immigrants from the Far East and Southeast Asia who came back to join the war. Under the propaganda of the Royal Group, they all understood how their current lives came about, so their awareness was very high.
Wang Ze quietly observed his surroundings. Fortunately, he had teammates on both sides. The Northern Army's battle infantry formation was dense, and each person only occupied a width of about two feet, with their arms almost touching.

At this time, a muffled thunder-like cannon sounded, and Wang Ze's eyes quickly turned to the two wings. Several field guns there suddenly spewed out a flame forward, and a puff of white smoke rose from the vent. The gun body retreated backwards, and just as it stopped, several gunners had already started the second round of reloading.

The Union Army's eight-pound and four-pound guns fired cross-fire at the Confederate formation from both wings. The Confederate formation had a shallow depth, so the power of frontal shooting was weakened, but oblique shooting could kill more columns.

The shells flew crosswise towards the Confederate army's formation, and the several bronze cannons deployed by the Confederate army also began to fire back. The shells cut through the air, leaving a hissing sound in the air, and smeared faint white trails on the open space between the two armies.

With the accuracy of the artillery at that time, the bombardment between the artillery had almost no effect. The artillery of both sides targeted the other side's infantry. The well-trained artillery of the Northern Army fired solid bullets at a rate of three rounds per minute, and the shells began to hit the ranks of the Southern Army continuously.
At this time, the battle flag in the army suddenly leaned forward, and the battalion flag and company flag also leaned forward. The battalion bugler blew the advance bugle, and the loud bugle sound echoed. The company commanders in the front row came out one after another, standing about five steps forward in the center of the queue facing the enemy formation.

Wang Ze's nervousness eased a little when he heard the familiar call. The call was familiar to him. After the call, they had to move forward. Wang Ze patiently waited for the drum to sound. The company commander stood in front of the queue with his head held high and his chest held high, holding a saber in his hand. A flag bearer followed him. Everyone in the front row could see the company commander, and those in the back row could see the flag.

"Entire company, shoulder your guns!" There was a rustling sound in the first row of gun-carrying soldiers. Wang Ze and his comrades in the first row simultaneously held their muskets with both hands in standard movements, with their bayonets pointing diagonally upwards. The two rows behind them carried their guns on their shoulders. Suddenly, a forest of bayonets shining with cold light grew on the Northern Army's line.

"Boom, boom, boom," the ten infantry drummers of the battalion headquarters beat four times quickly, and then struck the gong in a rhythm of brisk marching. Then the flute player played the flute in the rhythm of the drum. The cheerful flute sound merged into the drum sound, and Wang Ze's most familiar infantry march (Grenadiers' March) sounded. He began to march on the spot, and then at a certain rhythm point, each company commander pointed their sabers forward, and the whole battalion began to march to the drum beats at the same time, making neat footsteps and moving forward.

The text description is very long, but at this time, less than half a minute had passed since the Confederate volley in Xiaoshi Village, and the entire Northern Army's offensive formation was fully activated.
At this time, the six hollow square formations had turned into a linear formation about 300 meters long, advancing in time with the drumbeats. With the rumbling footsteps, rows of bayonets rose and fell regularly. More than 2,700 battle infantrymen marched in almost the same pace, with the same movements, at a speed of 85 meters per minute, moving forward in an orderly manner.

The sound of the flute and the cheerful and melodious rhythm in the exciting drum beats made Wang Ze feel a little relieved. He sipped a mouthful of saliva and his throat felt much more comfortable. It felt good to step on the drum beats. Wang Ze, who was clear-headed, remembered the instructor's words, "If you don't know what to do in the war, just watch what the veterans do." So he walked while glancing at the veterans' positions.

On his left and right were his familiar comrades. His squad was in the first row, and the two rows behind were the other two squads in their platoon. No one was injured yet, and the battle line was still full.

The Zhengde 5th Type was the main weapon used by both sides. Its theoretical rate of fire was rounds per minute. This was only a theoretical rate of fire. It was impossible to achieve this rate of fire on the battlefield because there were too many factors that affected the rate of fire. The psychological factor alone could reduce the rate of fire by half. The soldiers' nervousness would distort their movements and distract them.
So being able to fire two to three rounds per minute on the battlefield was already pretty good, but the Southern Army in Xiaoshi Village could no longer fire in volleys. The Northern Army on the opposite side came too fast, and the pressure on them was too great. It was almost difficult for them to organize an effective volley, but their free firing still caused losses to the Northern Army.
Amid the sound of musketry, soldiers on the Union front kept falling. Now they were already 70 steps away from the Confederate army, but the signal to stop advancing had not yet been heard...
(End of this chapter)