Chapter 1517: Chapter 62: Siege (32)_2
“Bringing everyone out to work in the middle of the night,” the young Junior Officer rubbed his fingers, sheepishly defending himself, “we have to entertain ourselves somehow.”
The Officer smiled and patted the Junior Officer’s shoulder with tolerance, advising, “Next time, have them wipe off the markings on the barrels, then they won’t be picked out at first glance.”
The Junior Officer hesitated for a moment, “We wiped them off, and then all the barrels were opened, and the gunpowder got damp. Plus, they always find a way… forget it, let’s not talk about this anymore, this way, sir.”
The Officer said nothing more; after all, he had risked a lot to cross enemy lines in the dead of night onto the island, not just to inspect the troops.
He flicked his cloak, took a deep breath, and under the Duty Officer’s guidance, lowered his head and stepped through the small door that led into the Fortress.
To the soldiers who hadn’t set foot on the island, this inconspicuous wooden door had another plain and understandable name — the Gate of the Dead.
Behind the Gate of the Dead was a damp corridor, with small chambers carved out on both sides, filled with various supplies.
Each chamber, as well as the corridor itself, was supported by planks and wooden stakes, walking through felt like descending into a mine shaft.
The smell of decay filled the Officer’s nostrils — clearly, the damp corridor was not a suitable place to serve as a warehouse.
However, the soldiers stationed at this Fortress also had a good reason — the Fortress had been crammed with a troop size far exceeding initial plans, making “space” here more precious than food and water.
But as this Fortress sat on the riverbanks, digging a shovel would quickly hit water, making it impossible to dig a basement like other fortifications.
So the soldiers could only desperately solicit space from the Fortress itself.
Especially on the side wall facing the cape, which didn’t face the enemy — it was nearly dug into Emmental cheese.
Seeing this scene, the Officer couldn’t help but frown.
Yet he was pondering another matter — such desperate excavation would surely affect the Fortress’s integrity; if this wall were blown apart by the enemy, the consequences would be unimaginable.
The Duty Officer, however, mistook the Officer’s concerns for dissatisfaction with the poor storage environment in the corridor and hurriedly explained, “These things are only temporarily placed here, and will be used up soon, they won’t spoil… And no need to worry about gunpowder getting damp, we don’t store gunpowder here, they are kept very carefully.”
The Officer nodded noncommittally.
Passing through the corridor, they arrived at the training ground at the center of the Fortress.
Every officer had been repeatedly warned — no clutter should ever be piled on the open space within the garrison fort, as clutter could not only be ignited by enemy cannonballs and cause fires, but also obstruct the defenders’ actions, especially during nighttime raids.
Yet right now, under the faint starlight, the training ground before the Officer was dotted with irregular “walls.”
Calling them walls was flattering, as those “walls” were basically just filled with all found containers, packed with whatever could be found, and then stacked as high as possible.
One could tell that those building the walls tried to make them neat.
But in this cramped space, dirt was a scarce resource, not to mention aesthetics. So in the end, pragmatism undoubtedly triumphed.
Next to the base of these walls, makeshift shacks were propped up.
Soldiers were sprawled in these shacks, snoring loudly in their sleep.
The Officer only heard snores all around, like nocturnal visits to a summer pond, with frogs croaking incessantly.
The Duty Officer sneaked a glance at the Officer; this time he did not show any sign of embarrassment, but rather explained seriously, “The gunners across the river are excellent shots; not only accurate, they have a special skill — their cannonballs fly over the wall, bouncing on the ground and walls…
“Initially, we didn’t know, thinking it was just their good luck, resulting in many casualties. Later, after urgently building these barrier walls, the situation improved.”
“But the soldiers shouldn’t be sleeping outside,” the Officer remarked.
“There’s not enough space indoors,” the Duty Officer scratched his head, “sleeping outside is more comfortable, and it’s cleaner.”
As he spoke, suddenly, without warning, a loud noise reached their ears.
It was cannon fire!
The deep rumbling of the cannon echoed through the silent night, sounding almost crisp.
The Officer instinctively sought cover, but the Duty Officer stood as if nothing had happened.
“It’s the six-pound cannon from across the river,” the Junior Officer grinned, “they’re not aiming at you,” he gestured to explain, “every night they fire a few shots deliberately to disturb us so we can’t get a good night’s sleep. But it’s hardly effective, everyone’s used to it.”
The Officer looked around and, sure enough, the soldiers were still snoring loudly.
Even the snoring sounds only lessened temporarily, like a stone thrown into a summer night pond, with the “frog croaking” quickly resuming as usual.
“It’s strange, sir,” the Junior Officer laughed, “previously I couldn’t sleep if there were mice running under the floor. Now, I can’t sleep soundly without hearing a few cannon shots at night.”
The Officer waited a moment, then abruptly asked, “Why not fire back?”
The Duty Officer tugged the corner of his mouth, showing a hint of a smile.
But this time it was no longer a dry laugh to cover his embarrassment, rather a smile expressing patience and understanding towards a layperson.
“We did fight back,” the Duty Officer answered patiently, “at first, every time they attacked, we would return fire, and the nights were extremely lively.