I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 402: The Courage of Civilians (asking for monthly tickets)
The Moroccan Black Guards fought in a very methodical manner. Under the command of their officers, the line formation quickly turned to face the French reinforcements.

Nearly a thousand black soldiers formed four lines and rushed towards the French army at the urging of the bugle.

Ney stood at the forefront of the infantry, drew his sword and pointed it at the densely packed dark soldiers opposite, shouting loudly:
"Don't be afraid. They are all captured slaves who don't know how to fight! As long as you shoot as you did during training, they will run away soon!"

Although he said so, it can be seen from the neat formation of those Moroccan soldiers that they have been rigorously trained and their fighting effectiveness should not be underestimated.

Soon, the Moroccan army approached to within 80 steps, and some of Ney's soldiers started shooting in panic.

Fortunately, the panic did not spread. When the two sides were about 60 steps apart, Ney swung his sword vigorously:
"shooting!"

The uneven flashes of more than 200 Charleville 1763 model flintlocks caused the Moroccans to pause slightly, but they continued to advance almost immediately.

At the same time, because the number of Moroccans was several times larger, the two ends of the long and narrow infantry line began to converge inward, forming an encirclement of Ney and his men.

"Don't be afraid!" Ney still stood at the front of the team under the enemy's fire, and shouted to encourage morale, "Don't shake your hands, reload as soon as possible. Our people will be here soon, and these slaves will not do anything to you!"

The 200 soldiers under his command, who were still farmers not long ago, felt at ease when they saw Commander Ney standing there fearlessly. Following the command of the drums, they exchanged fire with the Moroccan Guards at a distance of 40 steps.

Bullets kept flying past Ney's ears, and then a shrill scream came from behind him.

He turned his head to look and saw that at least 20 people had been shot, with large chunks of their bodies torn off by bullets. They fell to the ground, twisting and struggling like fish thrown ashore.

The soldiers around them were covered in their blood and internal organs, and they were so scared that they stood there, not knowing what to do. Some of them began to move backwards in great fear.

"Hold on!" Ney picked up the gun of a dead soldier and began to load ammunition, shouting, "Remember the oath you made when you came here. If you can hold on for another half an hour, you will be able to return home with honor! Your family and fellow villagers will be proud of you, and your stories will be spread among the neighbors!
"And it all starts with your fucking hands as you load the gun. Move, quick!"

He then looked at the less than 300 Tunisian soldiers on the flank:

"You guys should have rested enough, right? Listen to my orders and shoot together!"

He quickly loaded his gun and aimed at the oncoming black faces. Under his leadership, the French soldiers finally began to pour gunpowder into their gun barrels, and the Tunisian soldiers raised their guns again.

"aim--"

"shooting!"

Ney shouted and pulled the trigger.

There was a crackling sound of gunfire behind him. The Moroccans, whose faces were almost hit by the bullets, did not expect that the French army could still organize a volley. Nearly 30 people fell down immediately, and the soldiers on both sides of the dead body subconsciously turned their backs to avoid the bullets.

"Very good! You did it!" Ney's voice was a little hoarse, but he still shouted with all his strength, "Keep loading, don't stop!"

There was no wind near the battlefield, and the thick smoke blocked the French soldiers' vision, which made them not too scared. Anyway, Commander Ney was still with them, which meant that the situation was not too bad.

The Tunisian soldiers next to them also began to shoot intermittently, and under this heavy blow, the Moroccans began to retreat.

Hearing the enemy's footsteps starting to move away, the French and Tunisians who were still standing there, even though they had been scared to the point of peeing their pants the moment before, all cheered in relief.

Just as Ney was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he heard a faint knocking sound from both wings, and his pupils shrank immediately. The Moroccans surrounded him from both sides.

It was already extremely difficult for them to withstand the frontal attack just now. If they were attacked from both sides, they would surely collapse immediately.

He closed his eyes and made a cross on his chest, thinking about which direction to attack - retreating was impossible. At such a close distance, turning his back to the enemy would be tantamount to suicide. However, attacking the enemy on one side might delay the enemy for a while.

I just don't know if these soldiers can adjust the direction of the line formation in time...

He muttered in his heart, but he didn't have the slightest thought of surrendering. He grew up listening to his father, who was a soldier, talk about the Seven Years' War, and hated cowards who surrendered the most. He always believed that he was the one who could fight the enemy until the last moment.

Ney ran back and forth, loudly ordering officers to lead their soldiers to turn north.

However, after only ten minutes, he heard noisy Arabic voices behind him.

He looked at his own soldiers, still huddled together in a disorderly mess, not to mention the Tunisians.

It was impossible to fight in this formation. He suddenly felt cold in his heart. He didn't expect that the first time he actually commanded a battle would also be the last time...

Just as he was about to fight the Moroccans to his death, the sound of horse hooves came from the south.

"Have the enemy's cavalry come up as well?"

He smiled and shook his head, drew his sword, and pointed at the smoke behind him:
"Come on, I'm not afraid of you!"

After waiting for a while, the Moroccan attack seemed to slow down, and then, barely audible gunshots were heard behind them.

Although Ney didn't know what was going on, he immediately seized the opportunity and urged the soldiers to form up.

The smoke finally cleared, and he hurriedly stood on his horse and looked south through a telescope. He saw a team of cavalry in white uniforms harassing the enemy's flanks and rear, forcing the Moroccans to tighten their formation for defense.

"It's those nobles!"

For the first time in his life, Ney felt that those nobles were not so annoying anymore. He turned to the soldiers and said excitedly:

"Our reinforcements have arrived! Victory belongs to us!"

Chanel urged the "flying crossbow" under his crotch, quickly passed by the side of the Moroccan army, and raised his carbine and pulled the trigger at the dark-skinned enemy troops.

At a distance of more than 80 steps, the pistol has no killing power at all, but its loud noise can scare the enemy.

When more than 150 noble cavalrymen rushed to a nearby distance and turned around to reorganize the team, the Moroccans were thrown into panic by the sudden attack and quickly chose to retreat.

Moreau ordered his soldiers to move closer to his own side and soon found Ney in the crowd.

He stepped forward, raised his hat gracefully, and smiled:
"Mr. Lieutenant, you seem to be surrounded by the enemy. Fortunately, I showed up in time and saved you. How about it, aren't we awesome?"

(End of this chapter)