May 1913
The earliest attacks on their railroads had been actually before the fall of the Qing. Not much earlier, and really calling them attacks was probably stretching things. They had just started to settle in, and those acts had initially been minor sabotage, and distractions. It had been a mix of protesting coolies, and bandits looking for quick cash. Then of course the Qing Imperial Army had started shooting protestors, and then everything had gone to hell after that. He had shot people in Joseon, and seen more action in the Philippines, but Allen considered the Xinhai rebellion in 1911 to have been his first real war. It had been those attacks in eastern Zhili that had brought them to Yuan Shikai's side. This was hopefully going to be more mild.
Cole spat into the dirt in irritation. Allen agreed with the sentiment. "They're using firecrackers," He grunted in reply to the staccato coming from over there, "And that idiot keeps poking his head out,"
"It could be a trap." He replied glancing across the way. He figured it was maybe two hundred yards. In their present situation neither side had advantageous ground. They were on a large stretch of open area in the yard with buildings on either side with just a pounded earthenwork path in between.
Another scoff, "They're too stupid for that." Cole snarled, "They are just smart enough to know they can't afford to waste the ammo."
He adjusted his face against the rifle as the 'idiot' stuck his head out again. Cole beat him to it. The 6.5mm Swede boomed and punched through one side of the bandit's face and then out the other in an explosion of gore. The other American pulled back down and smirked as he worked the bolt. "Too slow brother John."
This time the report were real bullets. A couple rounds kicked dirt. The Maxim chattered, but went high as it raked left. It was answered by a potato digger on their side of the impromptu line. Then both sides stopped. Allen swung his Remington Model 8 towards the machine gun, and squeezed. There was a report as the 35 caliber bullet's, all two hundred grains, hit the metal of the gunner's shield, and he adjusted.
A 7mm Mauser Rolling Block fired somewhere up from a second storey of one of the buildings back behind them. It was a rifle that they had a couple of crates of because they had been cheap. They were accurate too, and fired a modern cartridge, and that made them useful. "Who was that?" He asked. Back before the Xinhai revolt there had been maybe seventy eighty Chinese who'd seen some action. There had been some more guys who'd seen action in the Xinhai, and in a way the volunteers from formed a rough basis of the first recruits's NCO corp.
"Beats me," Cole replied loosening his shoulders, and anything else was drowned out by the sudden staccato of more firecrackers abruptly cooking off.
They had a few hundred men. At the height of Qing power.... well that wasn't accurate, but during the First Sino Japanese War the Qing has boasted that they had a million men in their army. That had been divided between the Banners, the Braves, and the Green Standard Army. It had done them a fat lot of good against the Japanese, but the point stood. The amount of men they had was a far cry from the Qing's nominal numbers, or even for that matter Bai Lang who'd been doing this for years now.
He swore he heard a Martini-Henry fire from somewhere across the street. Cole shrugged, and it shouldn't have come as a surprise during the Xinhai rebellion both sides had used Gatling guns against each other, and he'd been shot at by muskets some in the .75 caliber range then as well. "Well they're about to charge," He muttered seeing a rattling of steel from the line.
"Told you they knew at least enough that they couldn't waste ammo." Cole muttered.
It wasn't like he had been in disagreement. Then the first men came up and over. They were dressed in a wide variety of brightly colored silks and linen, and that made them all the easier to make out in the dusty roadside. "Here they come." An NCO barked orders to fix bayonets... at least to them who had rifles with bayonets to fix. "Ready?"
"Ready as we'll ever be." Cole retorted, "I'll make sure they stay off that Maxim, you keep them off me?"
It wasn't a serious question, "Deal," Allen replied shouldering his Model Eight. The first men were up and running at them, and the NCO was yelling to hold fire. There was more movement, and saw more men prepare to jump up and go over the ditch and towards them. The NCO dutifully continued to order the men to wait. The first wave of attackers fired sporadically in their direction. Hold, but that only lasted till they were about hundred fifty yards, at which point sporadic return fire erupted from their own lines. "Machine Gun!" He roared.
The potato digger sounded up again. This time bodies dropped. The other guys were somewhere they could drop down to and out of the way of the machine gun's fusillade. He didn't bother trying to count just to make sure no one else got closer. The NCO was still bellowing for the men to hold their positions even as the Colt-Browning went quiet.
He swept sideways as another volley of fire went high from men on the other side. There just was no good angle to be had with them paired down like this across the damn yard. He canted upwards to double check no one had moved up into the buildings on the other side, but he couldn't see anyone in the water tower, or any of the windows.
"Here they come again."
He saw them. It was a little hard to miss the rising heads of horses after all. The ponies tried to clamber up the embankment, and he had to glance sideways to the machine gunner to figure out whether he needed to order them to fire. "Get that back on." Allen roared, which wasn't the most helpful advice for the gun. He hadn't precisely liked the gun in the Philippines so he shouldn't have been surprised. He fired. At this range 35 Remington could take a moose or a grizzly the small Asiatic or north china pony wasn't any trouble. Still their appearance made him wary of more showing up from some other direction. He pushed a stripper clip down into his emptied Remington.
Then it was over.
"Looks like they're running back for the water."
"They'll probably try and cross back over and regroup." He agreed. "Bai is not going to be happy to have lost a Maxim. He can't possibly have that many of them."
Cole swung his carbine and then lowered. "We'll just have to keep it put up for him. It looks as overheated as ours is anyway." They approached wary of the men laying on the ground. "This is Qing marked. Bet he stole it from 7
th Division." That made sense.
There was no sense in not taking it back with them either. Machine guns were rare, and expensive. It was something of a relief since it meant this gun hadn't come from Bai's supporters in Canada. He was about to say something when one of the bodies pushed upward and raised a long saber. Allen swung his Remington dead center of the man's chest and fired until the slide locked back. The 35 zipped through the man's breast plate and three went out of his back and into the dirt. He slung the rifle and drew one of the 1911s. At least it hadn't been magic. He'd been worried there for a hare's breath.
The NCO ordered the bayonet armed troops forward.
This was was likely to be the new normal. This was how wars were going to fought at least to some extent. You needed machine guns, and semi automatics would certainly help to. "You still talking to Isaac?"
"Yep."
"You should see if he wants to move here. If we're getting artillery." Cole remarked. "He won't be nearly as obnoxious as Dawes is. Have you seen the old man's shopping list?"
"Its funny you think Newton will be any different than Dawes is about the newest bits." Allen retorted sweeping the charnel house of bodies laid low. With no immediate threat he holstered the pistol, unslung his Remington. He rested the carbine forward and reloated it with a fresh stripper clip from the leather cartridge pouch behind his left hip. "I told him to be judicious but I guess we'll see, won't we?"
--
It was self evident that they couldn't keep doing this. On the other hand he couldn't guess what the time frame for when it might really bite them. During the Xinhai revolt most of the fighting had been done with still swords, and spears and single shot rifles. Most of the killing though had been done by artillery, fire or machine gun. It was an important distinction. Most of the fighting had been horribly one sides the rebels killed civilians, the Imperial army killed rebels, and more or less that had been the bulk of it. The problem had been the writing on the wall. The South, where Sun Yat-sen had been based had sat out the Boxer rebellion having declared neutrality. In effect they had declared their independence from the Qing court, and the Empress Dowager. Even though the majority of the revolutionaries hadn't had much better in the way of weapons than the Boxers had, there had been a lot more of them to contend with.
Allen really hoped that that wasn't going to be the case this go around. Yuan Shikai had headed off an even longer bloody war by negotiating the abdication of the boy emperor Pu Yi and had with the Beiyang Army gotten to be President of the New Republic. Yuan had then neatly started handing out rewards to everyone on his side of things, which hadn't made the southern revolutionaries happy. If Allen were honest, it wasn't unlikely Yuan had either ordered Song's death, or one of his supporters had taken it upon themselves to do it.
It was why they weren't just trying to issues rifles to everyone. Yan scratched his chin. They had met through a mutual, Japanese, acquaintance after Yan had returned from studying in Japan. He was also a potential threat, because two years earlier Yan had decided to throw in with Sun against the Manchu. "You are bringing doctors in."
"Given all the shooting, yeah." It wasn't that they didn't have doctors already, but it wasn't the same thing.
Yan nodded. "I have no ability to fight the Beiyang Army even if I was committed to the cause." Which of course implied he wasn't, or maybe he was. "I accept that we cannot simply continue to allow bandits to run amok in the countryside. Not the least of which is because Bai Lang is attacking trains, and factories which are necessary for the future. Bai Lang is a bandit, and I will not shelter him, but I also do not have the resources to pursue him either."
"Alright," A month earlier Yuan Shikai had decided the Army of the Republic would need to be fifty divisions instead of forty. That meant more foreign loans of course. "How many troops does Bai Lang have, you must have some idea? How many are former revolutionaries?"
"The President did stand down eighty thousand men last summer," He replied as her pursed his lips in thought, "Of those at least half turned to banditry after being released, Bai Lang might have fifty thousand men." and Allen questioned that number, because it seemed absurdly high, and as if recognizing this, "If not all his own, then at least other bandit gangs who he can call upon to help him out." Yan went on to explain that since they were bandits of course it was doubtful they'd been all that reliable or timely in responding to help, especially outside of their home provinces, but it was what he had heard.
"And how many of those are alumni of the Blood and Iron Society?"
Yan flinched at the question, "Some of them studied in Japan." After a pause to consider he continued, "Bai divides his army into three specialties." He held up his thumb, "Spies to look for plunder." Index finger, "Bandits to do the plundering." He raised his middle finger, "And merchants to use the money to acquire goods he can't otherwise steal. Like rifles. The largest of these are obviously the bandits, and they're organized into smaller units. Because Bai Lang thinks that because he has politics he spreads out postcards, and distributes goods when it benefits him. This seems to be handled or overseen by his lieutenants, but I can't say for sure how frequent that is. Most of his propaganda is simple, if effective, and hasn't changed much from the days of the First Revolution. I honestly can't say how much assistance he is actually getting from Canton."
Truthfully he doubted Bai Lang was getting much support at all from Canton. "Anything you want to ask?"
"How many men are you going to raise?"
That was a dangerous question. It was true Yan was being forthright about this, but it wasn't unlikely Yan would turn around and tell someone else the answers. "Including the labor corps, we're thinking about five thousand men through next year."
"I know you are building, or were building Remington rifles, but you have the weapons for this?"
"Yeah," Or they would. "The actually fighting element should be about thirty five hundred men. If it works we'll double it as we have the resources." Fifteen hundred men, another two thousand second line volunteers. Then hopefully another fifteen hundred frontline, and then more. They had more volunteers than they had guns for, and Yan probably knew that much.
"Then you have that much of advantage against Bai Lang. Most of his bandits don't actually have guns. Or if they do they are quite outdated now. On the other hand, he knows you can manufacture rifles of modern design." Something that would only expand once Griswold got back with the expanded order. "What will you do then?"
"The first thing?" He shrugged, "We bought a production license from Mauser before the Xinhai rebellion kicked off," Griswold was in part gone to go buy more tooling to expand that. The original plan had been to sell rifles to the Qing's New Armies, but that had fallen through obviously. They had planned originally to sell Remingtons to the Qing, and then Mausers, but by the time they were set up to start small production ... well people had started shooting each other.
"You are in Zhili, you are even closer to Peking than Hanyang, so Bai Lang is more likely to try and rob them." Of course even with Duan Qirui in the neighborhood Bai might think it was worth it to risk it. "And of course there are some old grudges. I have a hard time buying things." Not the least of which was because Yan was cash poor, but he was right the Beiyang commanders were constantly jockeying for weapons.
"Cao Kun has a tendency to throw money around if it means he can buy quality ammo," Allen commented. The commander of Beiyang's third division had fought in the Sino-Japanese war in 84...
"Yes Cao Kun is very distrustful of his own ammunition supplies." Yan paused to pick up his tea cup, "What about Feng?"
"He buys ammo from us, but Cao Kun is..." Allen paused. "His cabinet post creates a problem with that of Sun Yat-sen."
"Because Sun is nominally in charge of trains, while Cao Kun is supposed to handle the posts. He may suspect his third division might be called to quell any trouble. He does not like the prospect of being sent into Szechwan to quell the unrest there." That was for good reason. Zhili was comfortable and largely quiet. Szechwan was a madhouse of rampant banditry, and armed roving marauders up to and including slaving parties. "I am surprised though that Sun has not made a greater effort, you are an immensely capable organizer," He supposed that was a polite way of saying Industrial Agitator, as some other people called him, "and you have many ties in both England, America, and Japan."
"You've heard something from them?"
"I still speak with some of those men I attended classes with." He replied as the topic of discussion shifted from the southern doctor who wanted to be a revolutionary, to the house of the rising sun. The idea that in a mere fifteen months the world be irrevocably different was completely out of the question.