Despite not knowing why the Rose Beefs had suddenly halted, Napoleon refused to let slip the opportunity to strike.
"Target the vanguard artillery positions," Napoleon said, his voice slowing to a crawl as he held his binoculars, as if afraid his words might startle the Rose Beefs opposite. "Bombard them continuously for half an hour. Fire as many shells as possible; do not worry about resupply."
"Also, have the musketeers avoid the direct line of fire. Have them move slowly from the flanks. Once the bombardment stops, immediately launch an attack on those Rose Beefs."
"In this battle, I shall send those damned Rose Beefs to hell!"
It was only then that Joseph Bonaparte finally understood why Napoleon had allowed the English army to enjoy their afternoon tea so peacefully in the days prior.
Joseph couldn't help but exclaim, "So, Big Brother was preparing for this moment days ago? Truly, a grand strategy!"
Napoleon snorted, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Just a coincidence. I never thought those Rose Beefs would actually..."
Before he could finish speaking, the artillery on the second defensive line of the French army began its bombardment of the vanguard positions.
Though interrupted in his moment of glory by the sound of cannons, Napoleon remained unfazed. He continued to hold his binoculars, closely observing the movements of the Rose Beefs.
Admittedly, though the binoculars could only vaguely discern the movements of the English army at this distance and were of little practical use in the battle itself, holding them gave Napoleon a sense of prestige.
It felt good!
In contrast, Little George and the English officers like Edward and Richard, who were calmly enjoying their afternoon tea, were not feeling good at all.
As for the English soldiers also enjoying their tea and opium, they were thoroughly disoriented by the French artillery.
"Save me, my leg is broken!"
"Doctor! Doctor! Someone is wounded here!"
"Damn the French, ah!"
"Help!"
"..."
Various screams of agony began to spread through the English vanguard.
Worse still, the three hundred cavalrymen brought by Little George – to ensure the horses were fully relaxed and rested, the cavalrymen had removed the blinders from the horses' eyes and the earplugs from their ears, and were patiently feeding them hay.
In this state of unpreparedness, these English purebred horses, not having undergone rigorous battlefield adaptation training, were directly spooked!
The consequences of spooked warhorses were, of course, self-evident.
Knights, comrades – spooked warhorses cared nothing for such trivialities. They only knew to struggle and run madly, trying to escape the battlefield that frightened them.
"Damn you, calm down! Be quiet!"
The English cavalry's attempts to restrain the spooked warhorses failed.
On the contrary, the English cavalrymen who stood in the path of the spooked warhorses, trying to subdue them, were instead attacked by the very horses they were trying to control!
"My leg!"
"Thump!"
"What the hell!"
"Shoot them!"
Little George's teacup fell to the ground and shattered into pieces. But Little George had no time to mourn his expensive teacup – those damned French frogs had, with just two or three rounds of bombardment, shattered all the advantage he had painstakingly accumulated!
"It's over, it's over."
Little George mumbled blankly, "All over!"
The performance of Edward, the overall commander of the English army, was not much better, perhaps even worse than Little George's. The moment the bombardment began, Edward loudly shouted orders to counterattack, but he gave no specific instructions on how to counterattack!
Sir Richard, the overall commander of the English navy, fared even worse – a large patch of wetness began to spread beneath his trousers, and a smell of urine permeated the air!
Justin, who had always been at odds with Little George, was comparatively calm. While the other English officers scurried about like headless flies, Justin stepped forward directly and shouted, "All officers above battalion level, assemble at my position immediately! Squad leaders and platoon leaders, take stock of your men! All company commanders, find suitable cover immediately!"
Justin's actions brought some stability to the English army. A large number of lower-ranking officers began to try to take stock of and steady their men, and many officers above battalion level began to gather around Justin.
"You must make a decision," Justin said sternly, glancing at the bewildered Little George. "If the army continues to be in disarray, the only outcome will be disintegration, and we will become fish on the chopping block for those French frogs!"
However, Little George had already been stunned by the sudden turn of events. In response to Justin's proposal, Little George merely gave a few dazed sounds and asked, "What decision should I make?"
Justin was truly desperate.
This was the current Crown Prince of England!
This was the next king of England!
At this moment, besides feeling exhausted, Justin had no other emotions.
It was precisely at this moment that Justin finally understood why England's national fortunes and strength were declining day by day, even being overtaken by those French frogs.
After a long silence, Justin, helpless, could only say in a low voice, "Please grant Sir Edward full command of the army, Your Highness!"
Upon receiving Justin's reminder, Little George immediately turned his gaze to Edward. "Sir Edward, I now grant you full command of the English army. You must repel the advance of those French frogs!"
However, Edward, who had dreamed of gaining full command, was completely stunned.
The reason was simple: before, he wanted full command because the English army held the advantage, even if it was only a superficial advantage. Whoever commanded the English army to victory would be rewarded.
But now?
Little George's three hundred cavalrymen were dazed by the bombardment, and the remaining infantry were so scattered that soldiers couldn't find their commanders, and commanders couldn't find their soldiers. The entire English army on the field was on the verge of collapse. Taking command now, it would be fortunate if he wasn't blamed for the defeat afterward, let alone expecting rewards!
However, Justin's suggestion left Sir Edward no room to refuse. As the overall commander of the English army, Edward already had the responsibility to command!
Helpless, Edward could only summon the nearby orderlies and begin issuing orders. "Have Christian gather the troops and have them return to their positions!"
"Have William and his artillerymen prepare to counterattack! Lob all their shells, and aim them back in the direction from which they came!"
"Raise the Prince's banner here. Let the soldiers know that His Highness is here, and we are here too!"
After the orderlies left to carry out their orders, Edward turned his attention to Sir Richard. "Richard, this is no time for pleasantries. Please take your men back to the port immediately and prepare to escort His Highness away."
Richard, who had already wanted to leave after wetting his pants, had just nodded in agreement when a rumbling sound suddenly erupted from the nearby positions. A large number of shell fragments began to fly everywhere, and one fragment even embedded itself in Edward's body, the immense impact sending him flying to the ground!
"It's over!"
Edward, bleeding from his shoulder, was completely despairing at this moment. "Those damned French frogs! I knew they left a lot of shells!"
Edward took a deep breath and said, "The shells they left have detonated! Richard, take His Highness and leave immediately. Retreat to the port, back to England!"
Richard looked at Edward, then at the trembling Little George, and asked, "What about here?"
Edward sighed in despair and said, "Here, it's over! The shells left by those French frogs have detonated, and His Highness had previously ordered us to expend almost all our shell reserves!"
Upon hearing Edward's words, the English officers present were plunged into despair.
It was truly said that one fears not a god-like opponent, but a pig-like teammate!
If Little George had not confidently ordered the expenditure of all shells, the English army would not be in a situation where they had no ammunition and could only endure the French frogs' bombardment!
At this moment, the English officers began to recall Tojo Nijuhachi, the short and ugly fellow.
Although Tojo Nijuhachi's height was indeed not tall, and his demeanor was gloomy and sinister, making him seem untrustworthy, Tojo Nijuhachi at least had some skills and could lead the English army to some victories in the early stages!
Now, the battlefield advantage painstakingly accumulated by Tojo Nijuhachi was lost in an instant!
Seeing the officers staring unhappily at Little George, yet no one coming up with any other solution, Edward could no longer care about anything else. He immediately said to Justin, "Justin, I am injured. The battlefield command is temporarily handed over to you!"
Justin did not hesitate and immediately instructed his attendants, "Someone! Escort His Highness to the seaside immediately! Relay the order to all company commanders to lead their men in a phased retreat! Remember, at all times, ensure that one regiment remains behind to hold off those French frogs!"
Upon receiving Justin's orders, Justin's attendants split up to carry them out. The attendants of others like Little George, Edward, and Richard also helped Little George and the others, preparing to retreat to the port according to Justin's plan.
However, Justin's order brought even greater trouble to the English army.
Firstly, Justin's order conflicted with Edward's previous order. Edward had requested that officers of all ranks reorganize and counterattack, while Justin ordered a phased retreat.
Secondly, no one was willing to stay behind to cover the retreat. From the battlefield of decisive engagement to the port occupied by the English navy, there was a distance of more than ten li. Crucially, the entire English army numbered only twenty thousand men!
Twenty thousand men, according to the Ming Dynasty's military system, would only be two divisions.
This meant that the entire English army had very few regiments.
Which army could retreat first?
Which regiment would be willing to volunteer to stay behind and cover the retreat?
Everyone understood that on a battlefield where a moment's delay could mean returning to God's embrace, one only needed to run faster than their comrades to survive!
More critically, the French infantry could already be vaguely seen in the distance. Moreover, the French army was uniformly equipped with Ming Dynasty firearms, while many of the English army's firearms were produced by England's own factories!
It was common knowledge that in terms of range, rate of fire, and stability, military equipment produced by the Ming Dynasty far surpassed that produced by England. This meant that the English army was at a disadvantage in terms of equipment, and this disadvantage, when manifested on a crumbling battlefield, often meant death!
In addition, the contrast between Tojo Nijuhachi's continuous victories and Little George's successive defeats caused a sense of resentment among the English soldiers.
"Motherfucker, I surrender!"
"I don't want to fight anymore, I don't want to die because of their stupid command!"
"Surrender! Stop firing! I surrender!"
"Surrender!"
"..."
The act of surrendering, like drowsiness, was contagious. Once a lower-ranking officer led his men in surrender, other lower-ranking officers followed suit, directly leading their soldiers to surrender to the French army.
News of widespread surrender on the battlefield quickly reached Justin and Little George.
However, what brought Justin despair was that Little George remained bewildered and in a dazed state, while Sir Edward, responsible for commanding the English army, not only failed to provide a solution at this moment but rather fainted outright!
"Motherfucker! What did this scumbag learn in the Ming military academy? How can there be such a huge gap compared to Napoleon!"
Justin cursed inwardly and then ordered his attendants to carry Little George away, preparing to retreat directly.
As for those English soldiers who had already begun to surrender in large numbers... screw them!
...
Napoleon was also stunned by the scene before him.
Napoleon had not failed to consider the possibility of the shells left at the vanguard positions detonating, nor had he failed to consider the possibility of chaos or even disintegration within the French army.
However, Napoleon had never expected that the opposite English Rose Beefs would so cleanly surrender with white flags!
At this moment, Napoleon even instinctively glanced at his own national flag. Was it possible that those Rose Beefs had the wrong flag?
Otherwise, why would those Rose Beefs also be exposing their armpits?