Section 18 (Part 2)
The sky was overcast, and the wind sweeping in from the great grasslands was cold and dry.
Zhao Liangdong, Commander of the Han Army’s Northern Expeditionary Corps, held a monocular telescope to his eye and gazed toward the mountains opposite. Behind him, a large group of staff officers bustled about, marking the topographic map. At the foot of the mountains, countless musketeers formed a long column as they struggled along the mountain road.
The weather was terrible, and so was the state of the war.
After the main force of the Dzungar Eastern Route Army pressed toward Jixian, Zhao Liangdong immediately recalled the cavalry units operating beyond the front lines. He also set about repairing Jixian’s defenses, preparing to meet a large-scale assault by Bala’s forces. Unexpectedly, however—whether because they lacked troops or confidence—the Mongols launched several feints and then made no further major move.
Perhaps the Han army’s sturdy fortifications had given them pause. After the two armies had faced one another for half a month, the Mongols suddenly divided their forces and advanced eastward, bypassing the Han army’s camp at Jixian. They dispatched small detachments to harass the Han army’s supply routes, ambushing and plundering military provisions sent from Datong, while attacking mountain strongholds that had already surrendered to the Han army and destroying the beacon towers and courier stations responsible for maintaining the roads.
According to Chief of Staff Cui Weiya’s analysis, the Mongols’ tactical intention was likely this: since they could not overcome the Han army’s solid defenses, they would exploit their own advantage in cavalry by sending small units to harass the Han army’s rear, isolate its slow-moving main force, and wear down and weaken the detachments sent out to suppress them. Once the Han troops trapped inside Jixian had grown feeble, they would concentrate their forces and annihilate the Fifth Army’s main body in a single blow, thereby consolidating Shanxi and achieving the strategic objective of keeping the Han army outside Jin.
Zhao Liangdong agreed with this assessment. In truth, it was entirely consistent with traditional Mongol tactics and came as no surprise. Whether in the records of history or in the experience passed down by word of mouth through the Han armies, the same point was made plainly: the Mongol army’s advantage lay in its formidable mobility and the mounted archery of its soldiers. If the Han army, whose main strength consisted of infantry, fought them on open plains, it would clearly be at a severe disadvantage.
Thus, when Bala gathered his main force and pressed toward Jixian, Zhao Liangdong wisely pulled his troops inward and formed them into a hedgehog formation, surrendering the initiative on the battlefield. This allowed the Mongols to divide their forces without restraint and strike at the flanks even while the two great armies faced each other.
There was no alternative. Although the Mongols had drawn close to the Han army’s main encampment, Zhao Liangdong understood that if he led his forces out, the Mongols would never fight an open battle against a well-rested Han army. They would instead retreat step by step while maintaining contact, using their cavalry advantage to circle the Han troops at their leisure. They would continue until the Han soldiers could march no farther, then turn around and swallow the Fifth Army whole.
The war of attrition immediately entered its most intense phase. Once the news arrived, the Han army responded at once. Aside from sending a small number of units to support the mountain strongholds that continued to resist, Zhao Liangdong assembled a force of seasoned troops and brought along light artillery to attack the “traitor strongholds.” Under the artillery barrage, the musketeers captured those hostile strongholds with ease. They then slaughtered every man, woman, child, and elder within them. Their brutality and savagery were every bit as great as the Mongols’.
Inevitably, fierce clashes broke out between small detachments in every corner of the Wuniu Mountains. Because of the precipitous terrain and rugged mountain roads, neither side could commit larger formations. The fighting erupted at company and platoon strength, brief but savage. Usually, as soon as the two forces made contact, they exchanged fire with muskets and bows before launching their charges. The opposing troops then became embroiled in hand-to-hand combat along the narrow mountain paths. After suffering heavy casualties, both sides would tacitly halt the battle, keeping one another under observation as they disengaged and returned to their respective camps.
More often than not, however, the Han army could not afford the time to execute its prisoners properly. The Wuniu Mountains were remote and sparsely inhabited, while mountain warfare exhausted soldiers to an extraordinary degree. It was clearly impractical to haul prisoners over ridges and through ravines after every engagement. Thus, except for a few strong and compliant captives, the soldiers would usually thread ropes beneath the prisoners’ ribs, bind the other ends around their ankles, and tie them tightly to two sturdy mules. They would then drive the animals apart, tearing the prisoners’ bodies into two bloody chunks.
This punishment, which briefly became fashionable, was called “the tearing.” Its effect was similar to the traditional beheading by the waist, but because of the crude method involved, the victims generally suffered far more. The human spine was extraordinarily tough. Often the muscles would be stripped from the bones without the spine itself breaking, leaving the torso stretched into a blood-smeared framework of bone. The prisoners would scream and howl in extreme agony, frequently taking nearly half an hour to bleed to death.
Hatred thus accumulated without end amid the cruelty of war. The Han army’s savage methods soon provoked Mongol reprisals, and the tortures practiced by both sides quickly spread from the soldiers engaged in combat to the civilians living in the war zone. As the fighting grew ever fiercer, the Dzungar Eastern Route Army was forced, at the urgent insistence of its frontline troops, to send additional reinforcements again and again into the struggle for control of the Wuniu Mountains’ supply route.
By now, more than fourteen thousand Mongol troops had been committed to this uncontrollable cycle of retaliation and counter-retaliation. Only three thousand armored cavalry remained outside Jixian to keep watch; virtually the entire rest of the army had been drawn into the war of attrition.
As the scale of the fighting expanded, Zhao Liangdong was often forced to lead troops into battle personally. Just two days earlier, the Dzungar army had captured an important mountain stronghold on the armies’ outer perimeter and massacred all two thousand inhabitants.
The stronghold stood midway along the supply route between Jixian and Datong. Its terrain was steep and treacherous, and it commanded both the approaches and the rear. From there, the Mongols could look directly down upon the vital artery on which the Han army’s survival depended. According to reconnaissance by scouts and mounted patrols, the headquarters of the Dzungar Eastern Route Army’s commander, Bazamur Haraci, appeared to have been moved there as well.
After more than ten days of meticulous preparation, Zhao Liangdong had assembled the Fifth Army’s main force. He was determined to reclaim this crucial stronghold in a single decisive assault.