The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly on the First Parallel!

One can tell immediately in Mittelheim military campaigns when a bout of 'decisive action' is about to ensue. Clear signs include the sound of kettles being put on to boil, the unmistakeable rustle of pyjamas being retrieved from napsacks, and the whiff of naive optimism that presages the firing of cannon. 

(Above) Wurstburp gunners, clearly inexperienced in war, fire their batteries in an attempt to inflict casualties on the Vulgarian sappers. This has the usual effect: a few of the enemy stand up and ask 'what was that noise?'; the remainder continue playing cards.

(Above) The saps begin to approach the Wurstburp glacis. Upon the walls of the town, Captain Lackwitz surveys the weather prospects.

'I sense a heatwave in the offing, gentlemen', he says to some nearby staff. 'Relentless sunshine; unending drought; heat-stroke; shortages of water; swarms of locusts'.

No sooner has he uttered this commentary than fat raindrops begin to fall from the sky. 

For the Vulgarians it had all seemed now to be going swimmingly; which is ironic, really, given that it now starts to rain. A lot. Such a deluge of water has not been seen such Wilhelm of Gelderland got stuck in his bathtub and had to be extracted through the use of an artillery hoist and the very liberal application of lard. Many of his servants never recovered their sight. 

(Above) The blue markers indicate flooded positions. The Vulgarians in the respective fortifications are displaced by the weight of watery intrusion. There is much grumbling, searching for hats, cloaks, ducks, and any other accoutrements that might repel the wearying sheets of rain that fall from the skies.

(Above) Days are wasted as troops try and bale out their flooded positions. The only consolation is that an event so random and unprecedented as this ferocious storm is surely a once in a lifetime event. Of course, that depends upon whose life we're talking about ...