Chapter 861: The Ranks Had Scattered
The Austrian soldiers' behavior would undoubtedly have seemed incredibly foolish to people of the twenty-first century, but in the age of standing in ranks to be shot, it was perfectly normal.
With the accuracy of Flintlock Guns, it would take hundreds of shots before one might hit them through the gaps in the battlements.
So the soldiers had long grown accustomed to standing around carelessly when facing the enemy.
One soldier came to his senses and shouted a warning, "Could they be Jägers?"
Just as the soldiers of Zimmerman's Company were about to crouch down for cover, someone objected, "Definitely not. I didn't see their hammers just now."
The Jäger guns of this era—that was, Rifled Guns—were extremely difficult to load. One had to hammer the bullet violently to force it into the barrel.
The Sergeant beside him shook his head as well. "Jägers couldn't possibly fire that fast either."
Less than twenty seconds after their company commander had been hit, a second volley had come flying in. Normally, a Jäger gun took at least forty seconds to reload.
As he spoke, the Sergeant lay prone against the battlement again, trying to poke his head out and see what was going on.
The French Chasseurs promptly earned themselves another kill.
An Austrian Army Second Lieutenant from the neighboring gun emplacement came running over in a crouch, waving his arms forcefully as he shouted, "Get down! All of you, get down!"
He was still too late. Another five soldiers were hit by bullets fired from below the fortress.
In just three or four minutes, Zimmerman's Company had lost thirty-six men.
The Second Lieutenant shouted, "Didn't your officers tell you about the latest regulations? Stay away from the battlements, don't stand in the open, and crouch