Tonkin, this hot and humid land located in the Red River Delta, was also devouring France's ambitions for expansion in the Far East.
In July 1881, the Red River basin was stiflingly hot like a steamer, and the dense tropical rainforest was like an endless green wall, squeezing the winding river course.
A survey team led by Lieutenant Dupont of the engineers was toiling roughly thirty kilometers upstream from Hanoi, his blue military uniform's stiff collar already drenched in sweat.
The humid heat made everyone's movements sluggish, their uniforms clinging to their bodies like cold, wet shrouds.
He had twelve soldiers and four Vietnamese porters under his command, tasked with surveying the hydrology and riparian topography of this section of the Red River to draw maps for subsequent military actions.
However, this land was full of hostility.
A non-commissioned officer holding a compass reported irritably:
"Lieutenant, the compass is out of order again!"
The iron-rich rock formations here often disrupted magnetic fields.
Dupont spat:
"Keep moving, stay alert!"
The soldiers held their rifles, scanning the impenetrable jungle on both sides vigilantly.
Here, vines intertwined and canopies blocked out the sky, severely obstructing visibility, so every rustle of leaves sent shivers down their spines.
The porters followed silently, eyes downcast, showing no emotion.
Suddenly, a short gasp came from ahead, followed by the dull thud of a body falling.
Dupont demanded sharply:
"What's going on?"
He then raised his pistol and rushed forward.
The lead scout lay on the roadside, a crude bamboo arrow stuck in his throat, its fletching still trembling slightly.
He didn't even have time to cry out.
"Enemy attack! Take cover!"
Almost simultaneously with Lieutenant Dupont's warning, gunshots like popping beans rang out from the reeds on the river and from deep within the dense forest on the bank.
Bullets whizzed, hitting tree trunks and dirt with dull thuds.
"Bang! Bang!"
A soldier hiding behind a tree had just peeked out to try and return fire when a spray of blood burst on his forehead, and he fell backward without a sound.
An old soldier screamed in terror:
"The Black Flag Army! It's the Black Flag Army!"
He lay prone in the mud, not daring to lift his head, let alone return fire.
Lieutenant Dupont's heart pounded.
He couldn't see a single enemy, only faint white smoke spewing from muzzles and fleeting figures flickering in the dense forest.
He tried to organize a counterattack, but the soldiers were pinned down in a narrow area and couldn't aim effectively.
Dupont realized that staying here would only make them targets:
"Retreat! Move towards the river!"
The surviving soldiers fired wildly towards the jungle as they scrambled back towards the riverbank.
Another soldier was hit in the back by a bullet while running, collapsing by the turbid river water.
When they finally retreated to a relatively open area on the riverbank and counted their numbers, Dupont's heart sank.
Out of twelve soldiers, four were dead, two injured, one seriously.
The four Vietnamese porters, along with the surveying equipment and supplies they carried, had long disappeared.
The attackers did not pursue, and the gunshots ceased as abruptly as they had begun.
Silence returned to the jungle, with only the sound of the Red River flowing and the groans of the wounded bearing witness to what had just happened.
Lieutenant Dupont looked at the bodies of his comrades on the ground, feeling a wave of dizziness and shame.
They hadn't even caught a glimpse of the enemy, like clumsy beasts fallen into a carefully laid trap.
This survey mission had completely failed.
——————
Similar reports kept coming from all over Tonkin.
French patrol teams and survey teams, whenever they ventured slightly far from major strongholds, were likely to encounter elusive attacks.
With the tacit approval of the Vietnamese authorities, the Black Flag Army roamed the Red River Delta like ghosts.
They were familiar with every inch of this land, every patch of jungle, and the local populace provided them with information and cover.
The military was forced to order a halt to deep inland explorations, shrinking their operational range to areas near a few strongholds.
But shrinking their defenses did not bring security.
The operational scope of the Black Flag Army and the Vietnamese local militias gradually expanded to the supply lines essential for the French army's survival.
The Red River waterway connecting Hanoi and Haiphong port, and its coastal land routes, became the new battlefield.
One August evening, three transport ships, escorted by the shallow-draft gunboat "Annam," were slowly navigating the Red River channel from Haiphong to Hanoi.
Suddenly, at a bend in the river ahead, several conspicuous large logs appeared, half-submerged and half-floating, blocking part of the channel.
The gunboat captain immediately ordered:
"Slow down! Watch out for obstacles!"
Just as the sailors were preparing to clear the obstacles, dozens of tongues of fire suddenly spewed from the jungles and reed beds on both banks.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Bullets rained down on the flotilla like hail.
Most of them targeted the lead "Annam," clanging off its steel hull and sparking.
Some bullets also hit the unarmored transport ships.
The gunboat captain's roar came through the speaking tube:
"Enemy attack! All hands to stations! Open fire and return fire!"
The "Annam"'s side-mounted small-caliber quick-firing cannons and deck machine guns began to roar, firing fiercely at suspicious positions on both banks.
Shells exploded, sending up towering columns of water and fragments of mud, and machine gun bullets swept through, bringing down broken branches and leaves like rain.
But the attackers were extremely cunning; they were dispersed over a wide area, quickly changing positions after firing a few shots.
Although the French firepower was fierce, it was difficult to effectively inflict casualties on the enemy.
The helmsman of one transport ship was hit by a flying bullet, and the ship lost control, slowly running aground on a sandbar near the bank.
The soldiers on board frantically returned fire towards the bank, but sniper shots from the dense forest continuously picked them off.
The battle lasted about twenty minutes, and the attackers' gunfire gradually thinned out, eventually disappearing completely.
The Black Flag Army did not seem to seek to annihilate the French, but rather to harass and disrupt, so they retreated after damaging one transport ship.
Ultimately, this battle left one French transport ship grounded, seven dead, and fifteen wounded, including several sailors in critical positions.
Although most of the supplies were preserved, delivery time was greatly delayed, and morale was severely damaged.
Similar attacks frequently occurred between July and August.
French transport convoys and scouting parties marching along the riverbanks repeatedly became targets.
The Red River, this golden waterway once seen as the gateway to southwest China, had now become a nightmare corridor for the French army.
The Black Flag Army's banners, like a ghostly curse, floated over the delta, and France's "Tonkin Plan" progressed with great difficulty.
General Rivière, who had just taken office, sat in his headquarters in Cochinchina, his brows furrowed as he faced reports of losses and pleas for reinforcements.
His initial grand ambitions had been cast under a thick shadow.
——————
In the assembly hall of the Palais Bourbon, the air was so heavy it felt like it could be wrung out.
Giant chandeliers cast cold light, illuminating faces that were serious, angry, or anxious.
Jules Ferry stood at the rostrum, sweat slowly soaking his shirt from the back; before him were the watchful parliament members.
He cleared his throat, his voice echoing in the spacious hall:
"Gentlemen, citizens, based on the latest developments in the North African situation, and in order to safeguard France's legitimate interests in Tunisia and ensure the implementation of the Treaty of Bardo, I implore the parliament to review and approve a supplementary military budget proposal to support our necessary military actions and subsequent governance in the region."
"The additional amount is twenty million francs..."
(End of Chapter)