Merry Christmas!

It's 1pm, and so Prince Rupprecht of Saukopf-Bachscuttel is having his breakfast.
His chamberlain, Leopold von Fecklenburg, enters the room. As is so often the case, Fecklenburg instantly regrets this decision and concludes that a much better one would have been to have kept the door firmly closed and then to have bashed his own head against it until he fell mercifully unconscious.

'You're not wearing any britches, sire' says Fecklenburg.

In other places, such a statement might be uttered in tones of surprise, shock, or horror, and might also be uttered with a good chance of then being answered by a reply such as "Goodness, how terrible, you are correct - I shall at once repair to my bed chambers and cover my nether regions with a socially appropriate yet fashionable garment designed to envelop me from the waist down". But this is Mittelheim, so the chamberlain utters the phrase in the same tone as one might say 'the sky is blue", "the night is dark" or "this sausage is really quite small".

Rupprecht frowns in a way that implies that Fecklenburg's inquiry is entirely superfluous because the sky is indeed blue, the night is quite dark and, yes, obviously, this sausage is tiny. 

'I'm having a bottomless brunch', the prince says.

The chamberlain considers this. 'My lord, I don't think that this is what "bottomless brunch" means: I think that the phrase refers to having unlimited booze with one's food'.
'But I do that anyway', says Rupprecht, confused. 'So where's the Christmas fun in that?'
The chamberlain considers a range of replies. Almost all of them will result in the prince having him executed. Since that would at least mean that Fecklenburg wouldn't have to talk to Rupprecht anymore, it's a close call before he comes up with something more neutral.

'How do you think your end-of-year speech to the nobility went, my lord?'

Rupprecht considers this. 'Well, I should say. I hit all the right notes. You were there: it was, I think you'll agree, very moving'.
'In the sense, sire, that most of the audience moved into another room, I think that you are correct'.
'Fie and tush, Fecklenburg: I was magnificent: stirring, and yet sensitive. It was a special moment: a coming together - a moment of extraordinary mutual connection. I don't think that I go too far in saying that the audience touched me, and that I, in so many ways, touched them'.
'Indeed sire: I think that it was touching them that caused them to leave the room. That, and the surprise distribution of Christmas monkeys'.

As this modest publication has already noted, a traditional Christmas in the Palatinate of Saukopf-Bachscuttel isn't complete without the addition of a monkey, greased in lard, which is chased until it is exhausted and then used as the centre-piece for the Christmas table decorations. How this tradition came to be isn't clear and is probably best not investigated without the means to scrub oneself clean.

'And did you get the one that I sent you for Christmas, Fecklenburg?'

The chamberlain extends his arm in order to show Rupprecht the bites.

'Indeed sire. And thank you for gifting me an angry primate instead of a country estate or a large sum of money'.

'You're welcome', replies Rupprecht. 'It's at this time of year, hands covered with fur, lard, and teeth-marks, that I like to reflect on what really matters in life'.

'Pigs, my lord?' enquires Fecklenburg.

Rupprecht looks hurt. 'No, no, chamberlain: I mean family, friendship, and human kindness'.

'Really, sire?' replies Fecklenburg, impressed and a little moved.

'No, not really - of course it's pigs' says the prince chortling.

At the end of another year, the editors of this modest publication wish all of/both of/our reader(s) a restful festive period and the hope that the coming year brings you in large measure good and gentle things.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!   

Schwimwehr, the Third!

The battle commences with an opening salvo from the Rotenburg artillery. 'Salvo' though probably implies more of an impressive roar than the actual sound made by the artillery, which is more akin to a losing entry in a squirrels-only yodelling contest. One of the batteries is masked by the Rotenburg infantry, and so it is just a single battery that can fire. It aims for the enemy irregulars and misses, of course. Hitting the target would set a dangerous military precedent that might require every battery in the armies of Mittelheim to inflict damage upon the enemy: imagine the work that that might generate for artillerymen everywhere. Furst Saxe-Peste uses the time to try and acquire more initiative

                     

(Below) The Vulgarian gunners return in kind, concentrating their fire upon the enemy infantry. This too has no effect, the Vulgarian artillery maintaining solidarity with their brother cannoneers in the opposing army. General Rentall, though, is able to spend the time acquiring more stratagems.

 

Still, the guns generate an impressive amount of smoke, an effect that many would argue is reward enough for the enormous sums of money spent training, equipping, and sustaining the artillery arms of the respective belligerents.

(Below) The Rotenburg infantry advances. At this stage, they march directly forward, a manoeuvre that most, though by no means all, Mitteleheim troops are reasonably well-versed in. When they are closer to the Vulgarian battle-lines, Saxe-Peste will order his troops to oblique to the left in order to avoid the marsh and bring his muskets to bear against the enemy cavalry.

(Above, at the bottom) It looks like this might be quite a restful battle for the Rotenburg cavalry. The landgravial mounted arm “hold themselves in reserve, ready to intervene at the decisive moment”. As any experienced observer of warfare in Mittelheim knows, this is just a euphemism for exploring their cavities with their fingers.

  

                                
            
(Above) A view of the Rotenburg infantry lines. -  regular troops to the front and conscripts to the rear. Ahead, the Vulgarian cavalry gird their loins - and what loins they are. TheVulgarian horse are of an excellent quality. Whilst the Voivoidina Carmilla's Horse are trained, the Regiment Karnstein are elite, and von Ruthven's Osterberg Cuirassiers are guard. In addition, all of the Vulgarian cavalry are 'Cavaliers'. If only they had the Rotenburg cavalry to fight against instead of the enemy infantry. But Rentall is too experienced a general to trust his mounted arm with any role that doesn't just have cheese and pickle in it.

Schwimwehr, the Second!

On the other side of the field of battle, Furst Augustus Saxe-Peste, Generalissimo of the Landgravate of Hesse-Rotenburg, surveys the Vulgarian deployment and makes his plans. The general could really do with a victory. Though related to the Landgrave Choldwig III, this being one of the main requirements for promotion to high military office in Rotenburg, his relationship with Choldwig has not always been harmonious. Choldwig holds the view, problematic in Mittleheim, that commanders should win battles. The Rotenburg army, whilst it has had its moments, not least at the legendary Battle of Chestwig, has of late suffered badly, and many of its troops are newly raised conscripts.

                            

(Above) In some respects, General Rentall has done his job too well. With a wood, a stream, and a marsh clogging the front of the Rotenburg right wing, the Furst concludes straight away that there is no point in him attacking on that front. There's going to be no getting around behind the Vulgarian line there. Not for the first time, Saxe-Peste curses the fact that his troops are a bunch of useless flankers. Instead, he deploys all four regiments of his cavalry on this wing, and he places both his guns to support them. This force will act defensively to prevent any advance by the enemy irregulars. 

(Below) The rest of his army, all of it infantry, he deploys in a double line astride the road. The road itself is the main objective for this battle.

The front rank are trained troops; the whole of the second line are newly raised. Saxe-Peste hopes that, with the advantage of his troops' lethal volleys he will be able to advance, win the ensuing musketry duel, and triumph before his conscripts learn that they are actually in combat. If his conscripts actually end up having to fight, then Saxe-Peste's chance of victory in the battle is as low as something that was already quite low; but then, thanks to poor maintenance during an extended public holiday, had been allowed to sag even further.

The general attaches considerable importance to his troops' ability to conduct oblique manoeuvres. His intention is that his infantry will advance, obliquing to the left with the hope that this will not only make it impossible for the enemy cavalry to move around his flank, but that he will in fact be able to force the Vulgarian cavalry to take his infantry on frontally: a very difficult proposition for them. Having defeated the enemy cavalry, he will then wheel his left flank around and roll up the enemy infantry line. As long as his troops only have to do an oblique, and don't have to spell it, there is at least some chance that they might succeed.

He summons his orderly, Captain Sebastian Wankrat.

'Wankrat!' says the Furst. 'Sound the advance!' 

With a glass of brandy in his hand, and a small barrel for refills in case of emergencies, Saxe-Peste watches as his infantry begins their attack!

 

Schwimwehr, the First!

Wherein the army of the Landgravate of Rotenburg under General Augustus Saxe-Peste encounters the forces of the Voivodate of Vulgaria, commanded by General Hertz van Rentall.

In the distance, shuffling lines of troops from the Landgrave of Rotenburg appear. It is apparent that the Vulgarians have lost the scouting competiton, and that they must therefore defend. Rentall begins to deploy his troops. First, he decides to make use of the local terrain to interfere with the enemy's options. The Vulgarian left deploys to take advantage of a marsh and stream (Below).

This wing of the Vulgarian army is composed of Rentall's irregulars and his artillery. On the far left are two regiments of light cavalry; these are deployed behind the stream. As irregulars, they are immune to the effects of difficult terrain. Rotenburg regulars, on the other hand, view the water as a challenge that could only be made more terrifying by the addition of some soap. All three batteries of Vulgarian artillery are dug in with gabions and are positioned behind the marsh for maximum protection. Linking these two forces are both regiments of irregular infantry, deployed one behind the other.

The irregulars are under the command of the Dutch mercenaries, Captain Kleinvarken and Colonel Kurtz. As has been noted in previous editions of this publication, Colonel Kurtz is not known for his jolly outlook on life. At the moment, though, his conversation with Kleinvarken is of a more professional character. 

'What's your view on whether we can fire if we climb into that swamp', asks Kleinvarken.
'No, definitely not', replies the colonel.
'Have you checked the rules of war?' says Kleinvarken.
'I don't need to: when it comes to the rules of war, one simply needs to make a pronouncement with enough confidence'.
'So, colonel, you don't think accuracy is desirable, or checking the rules of war?'
'No, just confident delivery'.
'But what if we got into the marsh and then found out that we could fire?'

'Impossible: just listen to the confidence in my voice as I deliver that pronouncement'.

In the centre, Rentall deploys his five regiments of regular foot. Four are deployed in the first line, with only one in reserve. The Vulgarian army is well trained, but rather small. In this, it is very much like the mind of Landgrave Choldwig of Rotenburg: except for the "well-trained" element, that is.

(Below) On the right flank the three Vulgarian regular cavalry regiments are deployed. 'Cavaliers' all, one regiment is also elite, and another comprises the horsed Garde du Corps. If they can find someone to fight, then these chaps are likely to do some nasty damage.

Rentall watches as his adversaries begin to deploy for their attack. At least the enemy are not from Bachscuttel, with the embarrassment that comes with their peculiar form of "Turtlekrieg". The Rotenbergers will come forward, and the Vulgarians have the qualitative advantage! Huzzah!