Furkohl!

The Battle of Furkohl, May 1756

Wherein, the army of Nabstria under General Tonyfruttipandi encounters the Imperial Fenwick army, led by Marshal Cavandish.

     Just as Rotenburg’s forces begin their advance into Bachscuttel, the army of the Burgravate of Nabstria launches a parallel offensive into the Empire of Fenwick, hoping to overwhelm the Imperial forces before they have time to concentrate. Unluckily for the Nabstrian commander, Lord Tonyfruttipandi, Fenwick is so small that merely by exiting their beds, the Imperial army becomes massed for action. Predictably, the Imperial Army is outscouted and is forced onto the defensive.

     (Above) The Imperial commander, Marshal Cavandish, seeks to defend the key objective, the hamlet of Furkohl, by digging his troops in behind a handy stream; he hopes that his massed artillery will break up any Nabstrian attack. The wiley Lord Tonyfruttipandi makes the most of the passive Imperial defence by deploying almost the whole of his infantry into march columns on the left of his line: these will launch a rapid assault against the Imperial right wing; his cavalry is deployed behind a hill, out of the reach of the Imperial artillery but still able to threaten the Imperial left.

     The battle opens predictably enough: the Nabstrian forces begin their flank march - three battalions of light troops and six of regulars begin their move under Fruttipandi’s watchful eye. Meanwhile, (above) the Imperial artillery begins to bombard the single Nabstrian regular regiment protecting the centre of the Nabstrian line, while the rest of the Imperial army has elevenses. It transpires that this regiment are merely conscripts, and they begin to suffer from the surprisingly accurate cannon fire. For Marshal Cavandish, the battle seems to be going, very well: but then, he is still having a nap. In the meantime (to the right of the picture) Nabstrian irregulars have begun to push through the woods covering the Imperial right wing. This could be tricky - the Imperial troops covering this flank are regulars, but they are deployed in the woods, which makes it difficult for them to manoeuvre and means they will also have to conquer their fear of squirrels.

The main Nabstrian attack force follows behind the irregulars (above) accompanied by General Tonyfruttipandi. The General, still smarting from the appearance of the stream in front of the Imperial lines, spends some of his time encouraging his troops, and the rest muttering about the ‘slimey Bachscuttel rulesmeister and his fricking water-feature.’

     Somewhat surprisingly, it quickly becomes evident that the Nabstrian irregulars are taking a caning: lethal volleys from the Imperial regular infantry decimate two regiments of the Nabstrian light troops. Shocked, but pleased, Marshal Cavandish snores loudly. Since the volleys between the Nabstrian irregulars and the Imperial troops have done nothing except crucify the irregulars and hide the squirrels in smoke, General Fruttipandi orders his regulars through the woods and into a firing line (below).

     Nabstrian line infantry take up positions to either flank of the remaining light troops, whilst the Nabstrian Burgravial Garde du Corps regiment begins to push forwards (green flag). The situation becomes gradually more urgent for the Imperials: it is clear that the Nabstrians are angling for a charge against the Imperial artillery. Exchanges of musketry roll along the firing line on both sides. Casualties mount, and on the extreme right of the Imperial line, one regiment is almost at breaking point (yellow flag). Needs must, and Imperial flunkeys wheel Marshal Cavandish’s bed amongst his troops, reassuring them that, whilst the Marshal still slumbers, his adjutant is in command and so victory is still possible.

     Indeed, it becomes clear that an unfortunate dynamic is working against General Fruttipandi. Whilst he must expend his energies in pushing his troops forward, Marshal Cavandish need only hold his ground and rally. In this way, the vicious exchanges of lethal volleys begin to weigh more heavily upon the Nabstrian troops. Soon, the first Nabstrian regular regiment breaks: it occupies the position in front of the Imperial guns. By breaking, it does, however clear the way for the Nabstrian Garde du Corps, and General Fruttipandi hurls them forwards (below). One battery is overrun, but the effect of the stream and the Gabions protecting the guns is too much and the elite Nabstrians are driven back.

    
 Worse, the lethal musket duel has reached a decisive point. More rallying by Cavandish’s comatose body have held the Imperial troops on the field, but with one last roar of small-arms, two more Nabstrian regiments are overwhelmed (below).

As the smoke clears, the Nabstrians can be seen withdrawing. Hurrah for Marshal Cavandish! Grand Fenwick for ever! General Fruttipandi is the last Nabstrian to leave the field. With a last single-finger salute to the Imperials, he rides off sadly.