Wearing British clothes as a second-generation aristocrat

54. Battle of Asayer 8

Dugan took out his pocket watch, checked the time, and saw it was 15:30 PM.

After three hours of trench warfare and artillery harassment, Dugan was convinced that the morale of the Marata defenders had wavered.

So Dugan, Stevenson, and Olak decided to launch a full-scale attack now and break through the defenses of Asaye Village in one fell swoop.

All British troops have moved into battle positions, with Duggan's 108th Infantry Regiment on the southern front, Stevenson's troops on the northern front, and the remnants of Orak's forces in the center forming a three-pronged encirclement.

The Indian soldiers who were responsible for digging the trenches had mostly rested. They were sweating, so they put their uniforms back on, picked up their rifles, and lined up to wait for orders.

Dugan raised his hand to signal, and the messenger beside him immediately raised the signal flag and waved it toward the positions on the north and south sides.

This is the signal for a general offensive.

Almost the instant the signal flag was waved, Dugan, Stevenson, and Olak simultaneously ordered: "All troops, launch a general offensive on Asaye village!"

Boom boom boom

The artillery opened fire first, clearing a path for the infantry.

Then, the military band began playing the "Grenadier March".

British soldiers surged out of their trenches, advancing in orderly ranks towards the village of Asaye.

The red military uniforms surged into the village like a tide, their momentum overwhelming and unstoppable.

During this period, although the Marathas stayed on the defensive line and did not come out, they were not idle.

Under the command of Chuck Garrison and Gardon Raoh, the fortifications were continuously reinforced.

However, because the British attack distance was greatly shortened this time, the Maratha artillery only needed to fire one salvo before the British approached within 100 yards of the village.

"First of all, sir, we can't continue with passive defense," Chuck said.

Gadoun Raoh knew he had reached a critical juncture. He could no longer remain passive and, gritting his teeth, ordered: "All troops, charge out of the village and hold off the British forces on its outskirts! Hold the line until reinforcements arrive!"

As the order was given, the gates of Assaye village swung open, and the Maratha garrison poured out, forming ranks and carrying rifles, following the French army's pattern as they faced the British directly.

The two sides met instantly in an open area on the outskirts of the village, and soon they were within each other's firing range.

"Please fire first, gentlemen over there!" the British company commander shouted.

The Maratha commander opposite him, a Frenchman, replied loudly, "We never fire first, English gentlemen."

Without a word, the British company commander immediately shouted, "Fire!"

Bang bang bang

A volley of shots felled a large number of Maratha's men.

The Marathas immediately retaliated.

Bang bang bang

A volley of fire felled many British soldiers.

"Charge!"

A melee erupted instantly, with blood and flesh flying everywhere in a horrific scene.

Although the morale of the Maratha soldiers wavered, they remained fearless and, relying on their numerical advantage, stubbornly resisted the British advance. The two sides were locked in a fierce tug-of-war, and for a time it was difficult to determine a winner.

Just then, a squad of grenadiers that Dugan had deployed in advance, led by Captain Anthony Falkenhausen, quickly rushed to the front line.

"Grenadiers, get ready!" Anthony Falkenhausen shouted, raising a grenade in his hand, pulling the pin, pausing for a moment, and then hurling it toward the Maratha's defensive line.

A cast iron hollow black powder sphere with a matchlock fuse, a primitive hand grenade weighing approximately 3 pounds.

Although its power cannot compare to future hand grenades, in this era, especially at close range, its destructive power is astonishing.

Immediately following, dozens of grenadiers moved simultaneously, sending grenades whistling as they flew into the Maratha ranks.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

A series of loud explosions rang out as grenades detonated amidst the Maratha troops, sending flames soaring into the sky and scattering debris and shrapnel everywhere.

The once-dense Marata defense line was instantly breached in multiple places, soldiers were thrown about, screams filled the air, and casualties were heavy. The previously tenacious resistance began to falter instantly.

"Now!" Upon seeing this, Dugan immediately gave the order, and Captain Beckhami, who was already fully prepared, immediately led the cavalry in a swift attack.

The cavalrymen galloped forward, brandishing their sabers, charging like arrows toward the gap in the Maratha defenses. Their hooves kicked up clouds of dust as they pounded the ground.

Captain Bekhami took the lead, his saber slashing down and killing several Maratha soldiers who were fleeing in panic. The cavalry followed closely behind, advancing along the gap and widening it, completely tearing open the Maratha's outer defenses.

"Gendarmerie, charge with me!" Seeing this, Dugen drew his sword, mounted his horse, and led the gendarmerie closely behind the cavalry, galloping toward the gate of Asaya village.

At this point, Dugan had no reserves left and could only lead Tom's military police to charge in.

Stevenson and Orak also led their respective troops, taking advantage of the breach in the defensive line, to advance with all their might, continuously defeating the remaining Maratha defenders and approaching the village.

Upon seeing this, the Marata soldiers in the village fell into chaos. Some continued to resist, while others fled in all directions. Chuck Garrison and Gardon Raoh desperately tried to redeploy their forces and reorganize the defenses, but it was too late.

Dugan led the military police, following the cavalry, and charged into the village of Asaye.

The village was in chaos. Thatched huts were set ablaze by artillery fire, flames shooting into the sky. Soldiers and villagers were fleeing everywhere. Gunshots, screams, and the crackling of burning houses were all mixed together.

Dugan reined in his horse and quickly scanned the village streets and alleys. Suddenly, he caught sight of Gadoun Rao on the roof of a tall earthen house.

Of course, Dugan didn't know that he was Cindia's Prime Minister, Gadoun Rao; he just thought he must be a big shot because he was dressed very elegantly.

At this moment, Rao was leaning against the low wall of the roof, still desperately trying to rally the remaining defenders and salvage the situation.

Dugan yelled at the orderly beside him, "Give me my gun!"

Tom was already the captain of the military police and no longer served as an orderly, so Dugan replaced him with two new men as his orderly.

The orderly immediately took the rifle from the horse and handed it to Dugan with both hands.

Dugan took the rifle and quickly propped it up against a low wall beside him. He squinted one eye and aimed at Rao on the roof. The distance between the two was about 200 meters, a distance that would be difficult to hit with an ordinary rifle, but it was exactly the effective range of a rifled gun.

He held his breath, slowly adjusted his aim, aimed at Rao's chest, and gently pulled the trigger.

Bang

A crisp gunshot rang out.

The bullet whistled through the air and struck Gadorn Raoh precisely in the chest.

Before Rao could even hum, he fell straight down from the high rooftop, crashing heavily to the ground and remaining motionless.

"Colonel, excellent marksmanship," the orderly beside him complimented.

Dugan lowered his rifle, a smug smile playing on his lips. But before he could think any further, a dark figure suddenly leaped down from the burning thatched roof beside him, pouncing on him like a tiger. The force was so great that it yanked the unsuspecting Dugan off his horse.

The two fell heavily to the ground, dust flying everywhere, and Dugan saw stars.

In a daze, Dugan could barely make out that it was a Maratha soldier who had killed the orderly who tried to come up to rescue him with a single blow.

Then the Maratha soldier pressed down on Dugan, his left forearm pressing down on Dugan's throat, while his other hand drew a short knife from his waist and stabbed it fiercely into Dugan's chest.

In a life-or-death struggle, Dugen, startled, mustered all his strength to raise his arm and brace it against the other man's wrist holding the knife. The tip of the short knife was only an inch away from his chest, and the two were locked in a fierce stalemate. Dugen's face turned red from the force of the struggle and the choking on his throat.

At this critical moment, a figure rushed over at high speed; it was an Indian soldier belonging to the British Army.

Without a second thought, he gripped his rifle tightly and plunged the bayonet into the Marata soldier's back.

The Marata soldier screamed, his hand gripping the knife instantly losing its strength. Dugan seized the opportunity to flip the man over, snatched the dagger, and plunged it into the man's chest with a thud.

Dugan took the opportunity to push away the corpse on top of him, panting heavily. He subconsciously raised his hand to touch his right cheek, only to feel a sharp pain as his fingertips were covered in warm blood.

During the stalemate in the fight, his opponent's dagger still managed to slash his right cheek, leaving a long wound that stretched from the corner of his eye all the way to his ear. Blood streamed down his cheek and gathered into drops on his chin.

"Fuck, shit, you're disfigured!" Dugan wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and roared, "How am I supposed to flirt with those women now?!"