The sight seemed to cause the other armored cars to hesitate before they opened fire on the machine gun positions with their 37mm guns. Preecha heard a whistle overhead. One of the remaining AM50s was suddenly surrounded by shell bursts. The battalion might only have the old 50mm infantry guns as its artillery, but firing over open sights they were enough to completely outgun the old armored cars.
One of the AM50s took a direct hit on the front. The shell crushed the driving cab completely. The armored car ceased fire and the survivors of its crew bailed out. They tried to take cover from the rifle and machine gun fire that seemed to be surrounding them. Another AM50 had already fallen victim to the black-nosed bullets from the Vickers guns. With all the assurance of a veteran who had seen a whole two hours in combat, Preecha knew that the battle for the Thai left flank was going well for the Guardsmen.
The day was not going well. Lieutenant Roul had known that ever since the armored car company that had attacked the Thai left flank had been pushed back with heavy losses. The sites of four lost armored cars were still marked by the smoke stains in the sky, but they’d been joined by more marks of battle. The FT-17 tanks had tried to support the Legion infantry. The Thai medium tanks had arrived and driven the FT-17s off the field. This whole attack is turning into a disaster. The DMC has been decimated and our infantry are getting nowhere. And I wonder where the Thai infantry are now? Last time we were in this kind of position, they were already working their way around behind us. The Legion infantry were fighting hard, repelling Thai attacks and pushing back where they could, but the French offensive had never really got off the ground. It was quickly turning into a quagmire.
“We have news from Phoum Preav.” Major Belloc arrived with as little warning as he had on his previous visits. This time, though, his formerly immaculate Foreign Legion khaki was stained and blackened. The infantry of the 3rd battalion had been hammering the position held by the Thais for over four hours, with no success. “Groupement C under Colonel Cadoudal has been severely handled. 19th RMIC has been cut to pieces and Colonel Quelenc has been killed. Jourdain, what do you think the Thais are up to right now?”
“We’ve got the only high ground here.” Roul was thoughtful. “They can’t use the ridgelines for cover the way they did before. Not if they come through to the north of us. If they’re going to try that, they’ll have to come south; long way south, around Phoum Kdol.”
“Turning our left flank, the way we tried to turn theirs.” Belloc chewed the advice over. Roul was the only man in his command who had fought the Thais before and the Lieutenant’s insights were precious to him.
“The way they are pushing Groupement C back is consistent with that. And for us?”
Roul thought back over the engagements he had already fought.
“They’ll try and pin us down here while they cut us off. Expect to see an attack that is much sound and much fury but signifying nothing. A lot of fire, a lot of artillery and their dive bombers will hit us, but they won’t push the attack home on the ground. When that starts, we’ll know they are behind us. There will be a brief moment when we can get out; we can disengage and pull back to another defensive position. Leave it too late and we will either be encircled or we will have to break out.”
He was interrupted by a drone of aircraft engines overhead. Roul watched Major Belloc look up at the biplanes in the clear morning sky.
“Corsairs. There is only one problem with your analysis, Jourdain. Colonel Jacomy has sternly forbidden us to retreat.”
Overhead, the drone of engines turned to the wailing scream familiar to anybody who had seen cinema films of the fighting in France the previous year. The Corsairs dropped almost vertically out of the sky. The scream of their engines was amplified by the sirens on their fixed undercarriages and the wind howling over the struts between their wings. To Roul’s relief, the target was the French infantry position to his front. As yet, his antitank guns had not fired; the battery remained masked. He had a hunch that the situation was quickly reaching the point where he would be earning his pay for the day.
In front of him, the infantry broke under the dive bombing. They streamed backwards, abandoning their positions and fleeing the coming battle. Roul heard the shouts as they went.
“The tanks are coming! We are betrayed!“
He took a deep breath to steady himself. Overhead, the Corsairs finished their dive bombing runs and started strafing the retreating infantry. That brought them much closer to Roul’s position.
“Steady, men. Sergeant Ambroise, the crews should be ready to open fire. The 25mm guns will engage the tanks. The SoixanteQuinze will hold its fire until we have a clear shot at the supporting infantry. Private Corneille, you know your duty. I leave you to carry it out. Without the infantry supporting us, the whole weight of repelling this attack falls on us. Let us show them what regulars can achieve.”
The attack was following very closely behind the dive bombers. Just how do the Siamese manage to bring their aircraft in so quickly? Roul could see four Vickers 6-ton Type B tanks surrounded by the green-clad infantry.
They already had an air of implacability about them. If the French infantry had remained at their posts, there would be a firefight going on now. But they had not; the positions were deserted. The effect on the advancing Thais was discernable even at this distance. Their advance picked up speed.
“Target the two tanks in the center.”
Roul passed the word to his gun crews. They carefully aimed their pieces. The antitank guns had the advantage, for the first few shots at least. They didn’t intend to waste them. Roul waited until the tanks had closed in and then gave the order to fire.
The first two shots didn’t seem to achieve much. The tank targeted by one had turned at the last second. The shot sprayed dirt and stones all over it, but did no apparent damage. Roul saw a brilliant flash as the shot hit the frontal armor, but it seemed to ricochet off. The tanks stopped; it was obvious that the crews were searching for the gun that had fired on them. Roul understood their problem. Unlike the larger, and theoretically more capable, 37mm guns, the Hotchkiss 25mm had a negligible firing signature. Unless one knew where to look and caught it while firing, there was little to see. The tanks started to move again. Now they edged forward, while the infantry moved ahead of them. Then, there were two more cracks. The 25mm crews took their next shots.
This time, the two guns had concentrated on a single target. Their shots had effect. A tank spun to one side. Its tracks flailed; a drive wheel was destroyed by the hit. The other three tanks had seen something; they started firing their 47mm guns at the site of the antitank guns. Their supporting infantry moved forward fast, attempting to find and clear the antitank guns that threatened their advance.
The survivors of Roul’s infantry platoon opened fire. Their light machine guns cut down the Thai infantry. Roul jumped down beside the crew of his 75mm gun and pointed to a group of the green-clad men.
“There, take them down!”
The Soixante-Quinze fired. The burst of the high-explosive shell scattered the attacking infantry. The antitank guns fired again; their shots hit the Thai tanks but ricocheted off their armor. The 25mm was a good gun for its size; but, at this range and against real targets, its penetration was marginal. The 75 did better. The crew loaded an armorpiercing shot. The effect on the Type B was devastating. The turret spiralled high into the air. What was left of the hull erupted into flames. With two of its tanks gone and the infantry driven to ground by the fire from Roul’s platoon, the Thai attack faltered and fell back.