Alas, even the efforts of the Vulgarian Garde du Corps come to naught! The Bachscuttel troops are all fresh and in good order and the enemy cavalry can make no impression upon them: except, perhaps, the impression of a body of horsemen who have to retire having failed in their attack. (Below) the Vulgarians fall back, and the Bachscuttel infantry prime their muskets, giggling.
Further down the line, things do not improve for General Rentall. A bout of confusion strikes the elite Count Orlok's Regiment. For reasons probably linked to the frenzied mating of siblings somewhere in his family tree, the colonel of the regiment orders his troops from the safety of Hamertheim Hill. They advance forwards to an entirely isolated position and squat in front of two Bachscuttel units, including the Milchfrau Lieb-Garde (below).
Volleys of musketry are exchanged. (Below) Having nothing to offer in reply, except harsh language and a dose of fleas, the Vulgarian cavalry are roughly handled in all the wrong places. One regiment breaks and runs!
On the Vulgarian right wing, the remaining regiments of Rentall's infantry, fresh and entirely unused, can only curse the marsh to their front.
'Dish ish mosht vexshing!' expectorates Rentall.
'Gottle a geer!' replies Baron Tostov solicitously.
No comments:
Post a Comment