Falkenhelle, the Third!

The forces of the Palatinate of Bachscuttel begin to deploy. In Bachscuttel military doctrine, though, 'deploy' is very much a synonym for 'shuffle', 'mill about', or 'self abuse', so that the movement of General Barry Eylund's troops might make a European military professional wince, and any adversary think that it was probably likely to be their lucky day. The general herds his unwilling troops into some semblance of a line, according to the plan that he has concocted.

The Bachscuttlers have come off worst in the preliminary scouting. Thus, Barry-Eylund finds himself the attacker. Attacking is an unfamiliar and very unwelcome mode of action for the Palatinate's generalissimo. The general, widely known as Der Turtlekoenig, is a commander who much prefers the comforting embrace of defensive terrain. Indeed, his main quality as an officer is his ability to bend the laws of physics, and also quite a lot of the actual rules, to shove his whole army into the tiniest space available, and then tit about there until the game ends.

Barry-Eylund deploys all of his infantry, nine regiments (including one of mercenaries) on his left flank. Just to the front, one can see on this woodcut (above) a hill. The general has chosen a battlefield with a hill right in the middle: thus, whichever side of the battlefield that the enemy deploys their artillery, the guns will find their arc of fire blocked in any attempt to fire upon the other. This is just the sort of tedious bed wettery that makes Barry-Eylund so unpopular. On the far left (above, left) the general places both regiments of his irregulars. If Barry-Eylund's plan involves using those troops, then the Palatinate has probably already lost the battle.

(Above) On the far right, Barry-Eylund arrays his three regiments of cavalry. It's best just to keep them out of the way, where they can't be fired upon by the enemy artillery and where they can't get themselves into any trouble. Positioned here, it's clear that the general intends that these troops should protect the flanks of his infantry. Or at least, that they should plausibly look like that's what they are doing. Doctrinally, in the Palatinate's military thinking, cavalry is really just a way of keeping the most dangerously inbred of its military elite out of situations that might stretch their capabilities, which is really any situation that doesn't emphasise dribbling or molesting geese.

Finally, Barry-Eylund places his three batteries of artillery in a position linking his infantry to his cavalry. The guns are dug in, meaning that they are unlikely to move. But that's fine, because moving artillery would impede their ability to do what they do best, which is not firing.

With his forces deployed, Barry-Eylund commences his attack! It can't be a propitious situation when the first element of his army to move is his irregulars ....

Falkenhelle, the Second!

The Fenwickian army marches smartly into position according to the dispositions outlined in Marshal Cavandish's orders.'Smartly', though, in Mittelheim is mostly a synonym for 'slovenly'; and also 'blubbery'. The Fenwickian deployment therefore is smart relative to the usual Mittelheim standard; a standard that would make the word 'slovenly' feel poorly dressed and badly postured. As the troops file to their appointed places, they move like a collection of orangutans with back problems and a bad case of piles. 

To the left of Falkenhelle, Cavandish deploys all four batteries of his artillery (above). These fellows are trained in Fenwick's Artillery Academy and so are worthy of rather more respect than your average Mittelheim fire support. Dug in behind bastions and positioned behind a marsh, these troops are well protected against any saucy attempts to ride them down. Much will be expected of them in the coming encounter, though no one could tell them this, since the use of the word 'coming' in Fenwick would earn one ten years' hard labour; and then another five years for using the word 'hard'.

(Below) On the far left, the Fenwickian cavalry are deployed. One regiment of elite are on the right, and a regiment of conscripts are behind. Positioned here, the cavalry are ready to do what Mittelheim cavalry are best prepared for: to smoke some cigars and make jokes about poor people. 

In command of the cavalry is Theodore Creasey, who has a preternatural mastery over vegetation. Troops under his command can move unimpeded through difficult terrain. As a superpower, it's perhaps not quite up there with being proof against bullets or being able to fly; and also, he seems to smell strangely of hemp. But this is Mittelheim, and one has to take what one can get. Deployed in the open, and with quite a lot of openness to their front, it's not quite clear how Creasey will be able to apply his unique talents. But who can tell what dangerous vegetables might be thrown their way in the ensuing battle?

To the right of the village, the whole of the Fenwickian infantry is deployed in three lines (above). At the back are two regiments of conscripts. The remainder of the troops are trained. For some reason not unrelated to the choices of Cavandish's adversary, General Redmond Barry-Eylund, there is a ploughed field inconveniently positioned amongst the Fenwickian troops. No doubt this feature will be completely irrelevant in the unfolding encounter.

(Above) The army of the Empire of All the Fenwicks is now fully deployed. There is a commotion in the distance. It could be a travelling freak show; or, perhaps, a herd of Welshmen grazing upon leeks. But no - by the terrible smell and the strange profusion of body hair, it is clear that the army of the Palatinate of Bachscuttel has arrived!  

Falkenhelle, the First!

Wherein the army of the Palatinate of Saukopf-Bachscuttel, under General Redmond Barry-Eylund, encounters the forces of the Empire of All the Fenwicks, commanded by Marshal Ignacio Grace-a-Dieu Cavandish.

We return, dear readers, to encounters upon the open field of war: an activity altogether more suited to the soldiers of Mittelheim than sieges, since the former requires less of the tedious study, inky small-mindedness, and ridiculous attention to detail that in Mittelheim is known as pedantry and that in the rest of Europe is known as military professionalism. On the battlefield, one is free to express oneself more fully, and also, of course, to run off more quickly in the confusion.

Here, we find ourselves upon the eaves of the forest of Pupsforst, near the small hamlet of Falkenhelle. The hamlet itself is now full to bursting, overrun by the troops of Fenwick.

(Above) The tiny village consists mainly of what the original estate agent portrayed as 'a perfect family home, built in the rustic style, with interesting period features. The annex is suitable for keeping pigs'. Alas for the purchasers, the annex turned out to be the house; and whilst the animal pen did indeed have some excellent period features, the period in question was some considerable time before the birth of Christ. Most of the inhabitants tired of residing in dwellings with roofs that look like lawns, whose main modcon was hot and cold running slugs, and where the heating was provided by flatulent farm animals. Thus, the villagers are not entirely unhappy at the presence of the Fenwickian army. There is some hope amongst the populace that the unruly troops will engage in some home improvements by burning the place down. 

Marshal Cavandish is deep in conversation with his aide de camp, Captain Fabius Nitzwitz (below). An enemy army is nearby - the troops of the Palatinate of Bachscuttel - and a battle is in the offing.  Cavandish has a reputation as a man keen to conserve his energy, an attribute that explains the main feature of his headquarters (a large bed), and his attire (a nightshirt and nightcap). Spending much of his time asleep does not seem to have materially affected his quality as a commander, and his army has performed exceptionally well in the recent wars. Indeed, they are known widely as the Spartans of Mittelheim. Spending time asleep and not actually giving orders also allows the marshal to reduce the stress involved in commanding Fenwickian troops, not least because it increases the chances of avoiding any double entendre.

The problems caused by the Fenwickian sensitivity to double entendre have already been commented upon in this august* publication. Its military ramifications have been profound. Nowhere in Fenwickian doctrine, for example, does it allow troops to penetrate, drill, mount, or insert. Fenwickian units cannot be ordered to undertake an early withdrawal, or a full frontal assault, or go in hard, or inspect their weapons. Nor can one include in any orders issued to the troops words such as jam, wobbly, pair, dangly, or wibble. Luckily for their monarch, King George, however, this does not seem to have impeded their military effectiveness on the battlefield. Even if Cavandish has largely been reduced to issuing orders in picture form, and many of those seem to be crude pictures of his genitals (or generals - it's possible he was misheard), his army is really very effective.

Now, crayon in hand, the marshal is drawing his orders and deploying his troops for battle! 

* Or October, depending upon when you are reading this.