The close-range fire gave the cannon astonishing accuracy. Its very first shell struck a gun emplacement on the fortress's inner wall. A huge chunk of the stone wall before the cannon vanished in an instant, and more than a dozen Austrians nearby were battered bloody by flying rubble, screaming as they rolled back and forth on the ground.
The Polish soldiers directly below the fortress immediately erupted in cheers. Then they darted aside to open up an angle and fired a volley overhead, while another dozen or so lit grenades and hurled them inside.
Once the enemy fire had been suppressed somewhat, the engineers rushed forward. Using the wooden frames they carried and the earthen mound the Infantry had previously piled up as a foundation, they began building a climbing ramp.
On the other side, Woronowicz and the others began using shovels to pile up a semicircular earthen wall before the precious Twelve-Pound Cannon, hoping to turn the place into a semi-permanent firing point.
But just then, the Austrian Army's cannon suddenly resumed their rate of fire, managing at least two shots per minute. Someone had clearly brought in cooling water.
Several bursts of bloody mist immediately exploded around the Polish Twelve-Pound Cannon. The soldiers digging earth were pinned down by the fierce bombardment, crouching beneath an earthen mound barely 50 centimeters high, unable even to lift their heads.
The young Major dodged the hail of bullets and finally reached the base of the fortress wall, only to hear the enemy cannon suddenly become more intense. Turning his head, he saw his side's lone cannon like a drifting leaf amid towering waves, liable to be overturned at any moment.
"We need to think of something!" He looked toward the slope not far away. It was still more than a man's