Iron Powder and Spellcasters

Chapter 152: Musket and Spear

   Chapter 152 Musket and Spear

  Finally, Veneta and the United Provinces also experienced what is called "someone is good to do things" in Palatu.

   When we arrived at the corps arsenal, there was no need for Winters to fuss. The arsenal readily agreed to replace the weapons and equipment for the Jesska brigade.

The   hook gun was replaced by a brand-new arquebus and steel crossbow, and the sword and shield and the super long spear were replaced by ordinary spears and halberds.

  At the request of the lieutenant colonel, the number of militiamen using shooting weapons was increased to half of the total number.

   Now there are three musketeers and two crossbowmen in each centurion.

   The head of the ordnance division waved his pen and approved more than 20 half-armored collars, so Winters had another armored halberd hand.

   In the past, the arsenal only sent one kilogram of lead to each musketeer, which could melt into thirty or so lead bullets at most, not counting the fire consumption.

  Although there was not much shooting training in the standing army, the three second lieutenants did not dare to use the pitiful reserves of 30 buckshots per person and a total of six barrels of gunpowder.

   The only shooting practice Winters' musketeers have had so far is to take turns firing random shots into the clearing.

The purpose of    is to familiarize these militiamen who were farmers not long ago with the sound of gunfire and fire, and don't be intimidated when they actually shoot.

  But this time, the legion arsenal handed out 600 kilograms of lead and 60 barrels of gunpowder to the Jesska brigade in one go, and it is very useful for you to discuss again.

  The new equipment was brought back, and the boys cheered. In particular, Dussac, vying to be the halberder and the musketeer.

   But Winters was vaguely apprehensive.

  Pierre was originally classified as a sword and shield player, but now the Jieska brigade no longer retains the sword and shield soldier. Mr. Mitchell didn't want to be a spearman, so he came and begged Winters to let him play with muskets.

   "What's the matter? Sir." Pierre excitedly found the centurion, but found that the man frowned and looked serious: "There are new guns, new armor, and enough gunpowder and lead, why do you feel unhappy?"

   "Are the farmers feeding oatmeal to the pigs to make the pigs happy?" Winters asked coldly: "And why are you happy? Don't you still owe ten whips?"

  …

  According to the order of the brigade leader, the punishment shall be executed before dark.

   Just moved new weapons from the armory back to the camp, followed by caning.

  In the Palatine army, whipping was not an ordinary horse whip or hemp rope, but a soft whip made of leather strips and nearly two meters long.

  The torture tool whip needs to be soaked in vinegar before use, to ensure that every whipping can make the tortured suffer unbearable pain.

   There are also four grape-sized lead **** tied to the tip of the whip to increase the whipping power.

The    torture whip is held in the hands of the experienced military police. One whip can tear a person to the bone, ten whips can knock a person unconscious, and thirty whips can kill a person alive.

  Three town militiamen once again gathered at the small school grounds to observe the execution.

   Lieutenant Montagne walked into the school grounds with a torture whip. Vashka, who was still acting as a tough guy and comforting Pierre, "What's the point of whipping?", suddenly found his knees shaking involuntarily.

   The punishment in the barracks was simple, manual labor, riding a wooden horse - marching with a musket tied to each leg, whipping, and hanging.

   Holding the torture whip in his hand, Winters also felt a little uncomfortable.

   This torture tool was sent to Winters on the first day he arrived at the Maplestone Camp, but he never touched it.

   In fact, for these sons he brought out of Wolf Town, Winters' harshest punishment was only manual labor.

   "Come first from the ten commanders!" Winters gritted his teeth and began to call out with a sullen face: "Vashka Morozov!"

   The pale Vashka stepped out of the queue.

   "Tie him up!"

  The two gendarmes of the Montagne Centurion, Charles and Heinrich, were ordered into action.

  They took Vashka to the side of the cart, made him kneel in front of the wheels, and tied his hands tightly to the carriage with twine.

  Charle patted Vashka on the shoulder sympathetically and wordlessly. Heinrich took a towel for Vashka to bite, and the two military police turned around and walked away.

   Now only Vashka is left.

   In front of him there was only the dirt-stained car board, and behind him were the whips that would be drawn at some point and the gazes of others.

  The great humiliation and fear swallowed him up.

The sound of    breaking through the air fell on his body before the whip, followed by a sharp pain that went deep into the bone marrow. Vashka's breathing stopped suddenly, and before he could relax, the second whip came again.

  The two-meter-long torture whip was very laborious to use, and Winters gritted his teeth and whipped one after another without showing any strength.

   He now finally understood why Lieutenant Colonel One-Eyed wanted him to execute the execution himself—Jesska wanted to whip not only the Wolf Town militia, but the Wolf Town centurion as well.

Lieutenant Colonel    was saying to him: "Look carefully, this is the soldier you brought."

The    whip was not only on Vashka, but also on his face. Isn't the lack of discipline in the militia ultimately the responsibility of the weak?

   For the first three whips, Vashka could still hold back her voice.

   The fourth whip, Vashka began to let out an inhuman scream.

  The seventh whip started, and the screams gradually became weaker. At the end of the school, only the sound of the whip on the back could be heard.

After   15 lashes, the bloodied and unconscious Vashka was dragged out of the school by Charles and Heinrich.

   "This is martial law! No matter if you are a militiaman or a soldier!" Winters clenched the whip stick and roared at the school grounds: "Leave the camp privately, whip! Steal, cowardice, hang! Defection, relatives sit together!"

   There was silence in the queue.

"Next!"

   Another militiaman who left the camp without permission was tied to the rack, and the frightening sound of whipping sounded again.

   And Lieutenant Colonel Jesska was not even present. After twelve years of overseas assignments, he had too many people to meet.

  When Lieutenant Montagne was wielding the torture whip, the lieutenant was having a drink with his classmates and friends.

  …

  …

   The day after the caning.

  The sun is bright and the weather is slightly cool.

   On the playground outside the Shuangqiao Camp, the sound of musket salvos could be heard from time to time.

   Mars radiates in all directions and smoke fills.

   Winters commanded loudly: "Put the stand!"

   The musketeer who fired just now quickly pulled the wooden fork out of the ground. The fork is a wooden stick sharpened at both ends with an iron hook at one end, which is used to hold the barrel of the gun.

   "Gun on the shoulder!"

   Hearing the order, the musketeers hurriedly put their guns on their shoulders.

   A militiaman accidentally pointed his gun horizontally at the person next to him, and the sergeant who was supervising behind him rushed over and slammed it hard.

   "Never point the gun at anyone else! Except the enemy!" Winters glanced at the movement over there and shouted: "You never know whether the lead in the gun has been shot or not until you check it!

   The militiamen held their muskets, but they dared not move.

   "Put down the gun! Check the chamber!" Winters continued.

  The musketeers put the **** on the ground, drew out the clear rod, and poked carefully into the barrel.

   "Sir!" A militiaman reported with a sad face: "My clear message is not inserted in the place, it seems to be misfired."

   Misfire is a common situation for muskets. The powder pool outside the barrel is obviously splashed with sparks, but the propellant in the barrel is not ignited.

   There are always musketeers who are so nervous that they don't notice a misfire. They would then put new powder and buckshot on top of the first buckshot.

   Someone once picked up a musket on the battlefield of Vicksburg with seven unfired lead bullets in its chamber.

   Repeated loading, ranging from misfires, or direct explosions.

  Therefore, a musketeer has a mark on the clearing rod. If the mark is on the muzzle when the clearing rod is inserted into the deepest part of the barrel, it proves that the lead has been shot.

  If the mark is a finger's width from the muzzle, the musketeer is in trouble.

  Winters walked to the mourning militiaman and took the musket: "What's wrong with the misfire? Just recharge and shoot."

   He poured gunpowder into the medicine pool, closed the pool lid, and reattached the arquebus to the musket—the impact of the burning of the medicine pool would knock the arquebus away or even blow it out, which is also the trouble with using a arquebus.

   Then, he opened the pool cover again and buckled the launch rod. The tip of the dark red match rope ignited the medicine pool, and was instantly blown away from the rope clip by the air wave.

   This time, the propellant in the gun chamber was successfully ignited, and a small cloud of smoke was stirred up on the mound in the distance.

   "Okay." Winters threw the musket back to the militiaman and shouted a new order: "Clear the gun!"

  The musketeers took out a rag, rolled it around the purlin, and began to wipe the barrel.

   In actual combat, you don’t need to wipe the barrel every time you fire, but now it’s training, so of course you have to do a full set.

   Looking at the hustling militiamen, Winters secretly sighed.

   In the infantry drill revised six years ago, the arquebus firing process has twenty-five steps, which are carefully broken down into forty-two movements.

  The complete shooting process is far more complicated than "loading and firing".

   And the longest sentence that the militiamen in front of them have recited in their lives... is probably the Lord's Prayer.

   Merely preventing them from setting themselves on fire had already caused Second Lieutenant Montagne to suffer.

   But it's not their fault, two months ago they were just industrious farmers, many of whom hadn't even touched a musket two days ago.

   They weren't volunteers, they were just the unlucky ones chosen by lottery.

   Winters waved his hand: "The next set!"

   Another group of militiamen came forward with their muskets, rows of wooden vials hanging from their chests, containing pre-weighed gunpowder.

  Thank goodness, fortunately, 30 years ago, Marshal Ned proposed the concept of "standard charge" and invented the epoch-making ammunition bottle.

  Otherwise, just teaching the militia how much gunpowder to reload each time will make Second Lieutenant Montagne mad.

   "I think the old marshal was forced to invent the ammo bottle back then, right?" Winters couldn't help thinking.

  Compared to Winters being devastated on the shooting range, Andre and Bud, who were in charge of training the spearmen, were much more comfortable.

   The lancer just practiced simple formation transitions on the playground, then practiced column marching and turning, and finally practiced stabbing stakes.

   Because the five-and-a-half-meter super-long spear was replaced by a two-meter-five spear, the militiamen were relieved.

   The super long spear is too long and requires special carrying equipment, which is always inconvenient to move.

The    spear is very simple, just carry it on the shoulder.

   However, the weight is not much lighter than the super long gun, because a segment iron sleeve is added behind the gun head, in order to prevent the gun from being cut off by the enemy.

  The most troublesome thing for Bud and Andre is to teach the militiamen to distinguish between left and right, and to correct the wrong pace when marching.

   After two days, the spearman became more and more handsome, and he looked very energetic.

   On the other hand, the situation on Winters' side is constant, and anything can go wrong.

   Some people even forgot to unplug the rod after reloading, and finally threw the rod together with the lead.

  Fortunately, there has been no blast so far, otherwise the militia will only be more afraid of the musket in their hands.

   The newly arrived militiamen timidly held their muskets, their heads tilted to their backs.

   Angrily, Winters whipped his whip all the way, and he snapped at him: "Put my chin on the **** of the gun! Aim carefully before shooting! Point the muzzle at the target! Don't close your eyes and buckle the launcher!"

  The process of firing projectiles from a musket is still an explosion in nature, and the farther away, the better.

   Holding an iron pipe that would explode at some point in his hand, few militiamen dared to put their chins on the stock of their guns and aim carefully.

   In fact, most people shoot with muskets more accurately than bows and arrows. The reason is similar to the reason that crossbows are more accurate than bows.

   When shooting an arrow, people have to exert force, their arms will tremble, and the more they shoot, the more tired they are. Only a few skilled archers can shoot where they want.

   But compared to the accuracy error of the musket itself, there are more cases where the gunman dare not aim and shoot indiscriminately, resulting in a missed shot.

   "That's right." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska watched for a while by the shooting range, and said, "The ones from Luyuan are stronger than my gangsters overseas, and they are serious."

   After hearing this, Winters didn't know whether the lieutenant colonel was scolding him or praising him.

   "Sir." In desperation, Winters suggested: "Or change the gun and not replace the person? Let the person who dares to shoot shoot, and the others are responsible for loading."

"No." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska shook his head: "If you don't shoot yourself, you won't be serious about loading, and you will be prone to accidents. And changing guns or not changing people means letting soldiers who dare to shoot take the greatest risk. The brave soldiers were all killed and bombed, and what about the remaining soldiers who dared not shoot? We still have to let all the soldiers dare to shoot.”

   Winters was speechless for a moment.

   One-eyed lieutenant colonel said lukewarmly, "Continue to practice, don't be impatient. Your training skills are good, better than the two of you in the same period."

   After saying that, he turned and walked towards the other two second lieutenants.

   Although Lieutenant Colonel Jesska lost an eye, it did not hinder his vicious eyes.

   On the face of it, Bud and Andre seem to have done far more than Winters.

   The neat formation of the lancers looked majestic, while the musketeers were still in constant condition.

   But in fact it's all over the place, and it's much more difficult to train a spearman than a musketeer.

  A qualified spearman not only needs physical strength and skills, but most importantly, tenacity and strong nerves.

   The enemy is charging, and the spearmen must dare not escape before they are qualified to talk about combat.

   It is more difficult to train a sword and shield than a spear.

   After all, long weapons still have the advantage of distance, and sword and shield players really need to fight meleely.

   Those who can serve as swordsmen and shields are the elite who dare to fight, which is why Lieutenant Colonel Jesska simply let all the militiamen use spears.

   Shooting at the enemy with a musket and crossbow from a distance is far simpler and easier than killing someone with cold weapons at close range—both physically and psychologically.

  Training continues in full swing.

   "Practice hard!" Winters scolded a little sadly: "The sweat you slack off today is the blood you will bleed in the future!"

   He is silently asking himself: Is the farmer feeding the pigs oatmeal to make the pigs happy?

   The car array is gone, but there is still the classic combination of muskets and spears, and Mr. John Jesska is not a loss.

   Thanks to the book friends who voted for the recommendation before;

   Thanks to book friends 92 sauce Mengmeng, ~Pirate~, Soda Bird for monthly passes, thank you;

Thanks to book friends 20191007064305842, Qingfeng Hegui, agent12580, Kun Kun, 92 sauce Mengmeng, calm gray, Kepler B22, Huai Jiang Suan, Zhong Er No Human Rights, Ami, the yellow rabbit of the flower gardener, sailing ball , Book Friends 2020081901200799, Emperor Borderless, Book Friends 20191007064305842, Jiang Xue Diao Weng, Life Stealer, Wei Qingqiu, Book 161120205936216, Chaos Supreme Supreme Daojun, Soda Bird for the recommended tickets, thank you all.

  

  

   (end of this chapter)

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