Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 113: Bombardment

Smoke drifted low across the hills west of Algiers.

Marshal Davout stood beside a field table where a telegraph set had been mounted under canvas. The bombardment had already torn gaps through outer defenses, but Bordj Moulay Hassan still stood.

Through his field glass, he watched the fortress.

The French 75mm batteries continued to strike it in rapid intervals. Shells burst along the parapets. Stone chipped away. Gun crews inside the fortress tried to answer, but their fire was irregular now. Slower.

One Algerian cannon fired toward the ridge.

The shot fell short.

Davout lowered the glass.

"The field guns will not finish it," he said to Colonel Valence beside him. "They can wound it. They cannot crush it."

Valence nodded. "The walls are thick."

Davout stepped toward the telegraph operator.

"Signal Admiral Duperré. Priority order."

The operator adjusted the key.

Davout spoke clearly.

"Concentrate naval fire on Bordj Moulay Hassan. Continuous bombardment. All available heavy guns. Do not disperse fire elsewhere."

Seconds later, flags along the coast repeated the order toward the fleet.

Out at sea, ships of the line shifted again. Their bows adjusted by degrees. Gun captains corrected elevation and bearing.

The next naval salvo did not scatter across the harbor.

It struck the fortress directly.

The first broadside hit the outer wall high along the battlements. Stone exploded outward in a heavy spray. Dust rolled down the slope.

A second wave followed within minutes. Thirty-two pounders. Heavy naval guns built to break hulls and stone alike.

The fortress shook.

From the ridge, French artillery continued firing in between naval impacts. The 75mm guns worked as suppression. Fast. Precise. Constant.

The navy delivered weight.

Shell after shell slammed into the same quadrant of the fortress. Gunners walked their fire inward, narrowing their aim to one sector of wall.

A parapet collapsed.

The Algerian garrison tried to answer. One cannon fired toward the sea but it didn’t even got close to the fleet.

A naval shell struck directly below that opening.

The impact tore the embrasure open and sent fragments through the interior. Smoke poured from the breach.

Davout watched without expression.

"Continue," he said.

The telegraph operator relayed confirmation from the fleet. They were committing fully.

For nearly half an hour, the fortress absorbed concentrated punishment. The naval guns fired in measured cycles. Each broadside struck within the same battered zone.

Cracks widened.

A section of outer wall buckled, then gave way.

Stone collapsed in a cascade down the slope facing the city. Dust swallowed the structure.

The interior of the fortress was now visible through the breach.

Inside, movement faltered. Men ran between positions. Some attempted to drag wounded away from shattered gun carriages. Others tried to reposition remaining cannons.

Another naval salvo hit deeper.

A powder store detonated inside the fortress with a dull, heavy thump. Smoke ballooned upward from within the walls.

When it cleared, the central courtyard lay open to view.

No return fire came from the fortress.

Davout lowered his glass.

"That is enough."

He turned to his staff.

"Prepare the assault column."

Infantry battalions moved from reserve positions along the ridge. Officers called formations into order.

Cavalry units assembled behind them, sabers sheathed, carbines secured.

"Advance by bounds," Davout ordered. "Artillery suppress any movement along the walls."

The 75mm batteries shifted elevation slightly, firing into the breached section to prevent reoccupation.

French infantry moved forward in extended formation down the slope toward the shattered fortress. Skirmishers led. Main bodies followed at measured pace.

As they approached the breach, scattered musket shots came from inside the ruins. Two French soldiers dropped near the base of the wall.

Machine gun teams were brought forward and set up on elevated ground facing the breach. Short bursts cut into visible figures attempting to regroup.

"Forward," came the order.

Infantry entered through the collapsed section of wall. Boots stepped over broken stone and splintered beams. Smoke still hung low in the courtyard.

Resistance inside was uneven. Some Algerian defenders fired from behind fallen masonry. Others threw down weapons and fled toward the rear gate.

Within minutes, French soldiers controlled the inner yard.

Cavalry did not dismount inside the fortress. They circled the perimeter outside, cutting off escape routes along the slope.

A French officer climbed the highest remaining section of wall and planted a signal flag.

From the ridge, Davout watched the movement.

"Secure it," he said quietly.

Engineers followed immediately. They cleared debris from intact firing positions. Surviving Algerian cannons were inspected, then pushed aside.

"Bring up two batteries," Davout ordered.

Teams of artillerymen dragged 75mm guns up the slope using shoulder straps and draft teams. Wheels ground against stone. Limbers followed with ammunition chests.

Within the hour, French field guns stood atop the battered fortress.

From that elevation, the city of Algiers lay fully exposed.

Direct line of sight.

Clear fields of fire into the inner districts.

Gunners set trails into the remaining stone base for stability. Sights were adjusted. Observers marked coordinates across the city’s defensive grid.

Davout studied the streets through his glass.

He could see movement along the inner walls. Men running between towers. Civilians pulling carts away from the harbor road. Smoke already hanging over the western quarter.

"Begin city bombardment," he ordered.

Signal flags rose from the fortress. The telegraph crackled back toward the fleet.

The first 75mm round left the captured height and dropped into the outer defensive line along the southern wall. It burst against stone and sent fragments into the courtyard behind it.

The rest followed.

From the ridge and from the fortress, the field batteries worked in rotation. Rapid recoil systems snapped back and forward. Shells were fed in, breeches closed, sights corrected.

Naval guns resumed as well, but now their broadsides walked deeper into the harbor district. Warehouses took direct hits. Roofs collapsed in sheets of tile and timber. A defensive tower near the eastern gate shattered after three consecutive impacts.

Inside the city, dust rose in columns.

French observers called adjustments. Shells shifted from walls to intersections where troops attempted to form. A battery targeted a cluster of Algerian guns that had been dragged into the street behind a barricade. Two shells landed short. The third struck the position and silenced it.

Davout watched as the scenes unfolded from his field glass. "Now, we wait."