Vahringblancks, the Seventh!

On the Nabstrian right wing, the battle now becomes a form of Mittelheim military ballet. This being Mittelheim, the ballet is notable chiefly for the large plappy feet of its participants, the rolls of lard peeking from beneath their tutus, and the ways in which the pirouettes remind one less of ballet and more of the inexpert and lumbering exploits of some short-sighted and very horny hippos.

(Above) The Nabstrian infantry drives forward, pushing the Kurlandian horse back in the direction from which they came. (Above, top) In a development that signals a shift to the decisive element in this battle, however, Grand Duchess Catherine coordinates the retreat of her cavalry with the advance of her infantry.



(Above) Weighing his options, Rumpfler pushes his right flank infantry forward one more time. It's just too much fun seeing the Kurlandian cavalry heading back to the same position that they started the battle at. Meanwhile, his cavalry remains in position, rising damp from the marsh causing a degree of chafing amongst his elites.



(Above) Now, however, the necessary preliminaries of any battle in Mittelheim have been completed. The artillery has created some dramatic smoke; the cavalry has ridden forward and then retreated back again. The respective commanders have riled one another with poorly hidden barbs regarding recollections of the rules of war and the weighting of their dice. 

Finally, Grand Duchess Catherine, seeking to regain the initiative, commits her infantry to a decisive attack upon Vahringblancks Hill!

Vahringblancks, the Sixth!

Rumpfler reorders his cavalry, forming a line to protect the otherwise exposed flank of his infantry (below). To be fair, the 'reordering' mainly involves one unit moving, and the other, his elite regiment, continuing to experience the rising damp that comes from squatting in a marsh.

(Above) The Kurlandian cavalry wheel, clearly preparing themselves for another assault. One thing that you couldn't accuse them of is being reluctant to fight. Although one thing that you could accuse them of is being reluctant to bathe. 

Rumpfler has other ideas, however. At his order, his two rightmost infantry regiments wheel into march column (below). In other armies, this would no doubt signal an attempt to manoeuvre in support of their cavalry. This being Mitteleheim, however, this option is only one of a range of choices that includes routing, deserting; changing sides, going on holiday, or marrying one another.

Thankfully for the Nabstrians' chances in this battle, the infantry seems to have chosen Option A. They manoeuvre to their right and form lines (below).

With enemy infantry moving up, Catherine recognises that she needs to effect a quick breakthrough. With the vigorous clashing of coconuts, her cavalry dash once again into the fray (below). In true Mittleheim fashion, they target the weakest adversary, and then gang up on them, making unkind comments about their parentage, weight, and musical choices.

The stern line of Nabstrian cavalry refuses to be ridden down, however. The Grand Duchess' cavalry fail to break the enemy, and their ardour for the fight, like soft tissue in a Mittelheim plague, drops off. The Kurlandians are forced to fall back (below).

For Rumpfler, the situation on his right flank now looks much more promising. The enemy cavalry have retired right into the sights of his musketeers who, if they can only remember what their muskets are for, should be able to inflict perhaps decisive damage upon their enemies! 

Vahringblancks, the Fifth!

As the Nabstrians advance, however, there is suddenly a strange sloshing sound, and the rasping croak of frogs. A marsh! And one that doesn't seem to be on Rumpfler's maps! (Below) Our distance from the general makes it impossible to hear what he is saying. However, by the expression on his face, his hand gestures, and the way in which he is gnawing his hat, it is possible to deduce that he has found this new state of affairs to be sub-optimal.

Possibly as a result of his slight frustration at the geographic japery that has just been inflicted upon him, Rumpfler issues an order not generally found in military manuals even in Mittelheim. His direction "Sod it! Who cares - let's charge anyway" nevertheless is enacted immediately by his cavalry! (Below)

Despite the presence of more frogs and bog water than is usually good for cavalry actions, Rumpler's elite ride down their adversaries! With conscript-level strangled cries, the Kropotkin Dragoons are driven from the battlefield. (Below) Grand Duchess Catherine can only look on in dismay as the Nabstrians are left positioned for another flank attack - this time, the target is the Berndt-Lippe Carabiniers

Determined not to cede the initiative, Catherine orders the Carabiniers to drop back, and then charges again with the two remaining units: mercenary hussars and the Nicolayevsk Horse Grenadiers. The charge succeeds in riding down one of the Nabstrian regiments (below).

Much to the Duchess' chagrin, however, a sudden bout of confusion overtakes the horse grenadiers. In Kurlandian, the phrases "Advance forwards, march!" and "Tit about a bit, for a while" are dangerously similar in promunication. The horse grenadiers wheel themselves through their comrades and then set off forward into what is known in military circles as "The Wide Blue Yonder" (below).

Why they have done this will no doubt be straightened out after the battle - a straightening porcess that will also be enacted, no doubt, to their colonel's face and knees.

Rumpfler assesses the swirling cavalry melee - the situation remains in the balance: what can be done to gain him an advantage? He could, of course, set off a fire alarm and then steal some of the enemy units in the confusion, but no one would believe that this was an accident - again. Sternly taking the measure of the situation, he issues new orders ...

Vahringblancks, the Fourth!

With the deployment completed, the battle begins! There is a mutual exchange of artillery fire. In this, the substitute Nabstrian gunners demonstrate their utter lack of a grasp of Mittelheim artillery doctrine, by hitting the enemy and causing them casualties.

The Kurlandian artillery replies, firing upon the Nabstrian cavalry. Being regular Mittelheim gunners, they miss, exactly in accordance with their training.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, given the Kurlandian deployment, on the Nabstrian right wing the battle develops into a clash of cavalry. With the addition of  a unit of mercenary regulars, the Duchy's horse outnumber their Burgravial adversaries four regiments to three. 

(Above) However, Catherine has deployed her regiments in mass formation, whereas Rumpfler has deployed his in line. This means that the latter are extended along a wider frontage. (Above, left) Secure in the knowledge that they are being fired at by three batteries of enemy artillery, and so are safe from any serious harm, the Nabstrian elite cavalry edge forwards little.

(Above) The two bodies of horse close with one another. The two forces pause in front of one another, exchanging insults and probably also some fleas. (Above, top) Grand Duchess Catherine can see the looming threat from the Nabstrian elites. Rumpfler no doubt intends to use this unit to try to engage in something that rhymes with "spanking", but that this time won't get him expelled from the Burgravial Christmas celebrations.

(Above) Charge! Trusting to numbers and throwing their stirrups right into the action, the Kurlandians thunder towards their enemies. Alas, there is the sort of brief flurry of exertion and then disappointed withdrawal not seen since Prince Rupprecht of Bachscuttel's wedding night. The Nabstrians, it turns out, also have their own set of stirrups to throw into the fray. The defending Nabstrians succeeed in repelling the attack.

(Above) The Duchy's cavalry falls back to regroup. Now, like ex-King Wilhelm of Gelderland in his underpants, their flank is hanging out so badly that a heavy spanking does indeed seem to be in the offing. The Nabstrian elites rub their hands, amongst other things, and prepare to attack! 

Vahringblancks, the Third!

It is as well that the Nabstrians have finally got their rustic in a sock and finished their deployment, because, before one can say 'Well, I remembered to bring my artillery', their adversaries the Duchy of Kurland have arrayed their forces for battle. (Below) To the uninitiated, their formation looks like 'A Big Long Line': but long-standing readers of this modest publication, those that have been drugged by the editors, that is, and had their eyelids taped open, will know that there is so much more going on.

For starters, all of the regular cavalry have been deployed on the left under the command of Boris Katzenov. This places them opposite the Nabstrian cavalry, and surely signals an intention to engage in some early equine antics. Katzenov is exactly the man to take part in this operation because he is utterly expendable. Whatever it is that he is good for, it doesn't really seem that it's battle. 

(Below) Just to the right of the regular cavalry is the Kurlandian headquarters. Amongst the many recent innovations undertaken by the Duchy of Kurland in its effort to modernise its army, the most controversial is that its commander is the Grand Duchess herself! Thus far, however, the Duchess has proved to be a canny and successful strategist. Catherine's headquarters are run by Gregori Savvinos, who is acting as the army's Chief of Staff. Savvinos is responsible for undertaking a variety of unMittelheim activities, such as writing precise orders, imposing a coherent structure for command and control, and preventing the troops from biting one another.

(Above) Next to the cavalry is the artillery - all three batteries of it. The batteries are dug in behind gabions. If the gabions themselves seem rather less substantial than normal, this is because the real bastions can be found wherever it is that the real Nabstrian artillery are. Thus, both sides have imaginary artillery defences  - in the same manner that they have imaginary competence.

(Above) Facing off the enemy foot is the main Kurlandian infantry line. Thanks to their recent victories, the proportion of conscripts is now much reduced and the Duchy's musketeer regiments are now quite a respectable force. 

Finally (below), last but very much least, are the Cassock irregular cavalry. One constant in Kurlandian warfare is the presence in their campaigns of these wild and undisciplined horsemen. The Cassocks' presence is a function partly of their love of violence, but mainly because their wives force them to go. Cassocks live in the saddle, which, as many a Cassock wife will tell, plays merry Hell with the dining room carpets. The Cassocks always turn up for a fight - then they wait until it's over so that they can frisk the bodies of the casualties for valuables. Distressingly, what the Cassocks define as 'valuable' is usually defined elsewhere as 'soft and dangly': seeing them relieve victims of their 'valuables' is a sight exceeded in its unpleasantness only by watching them try to deposit said 'valuables' at local banks.

The Cassock's are positioned no doubt to engage in a wide and sweeping flanking manoeuvre. This might be rather optimistic, since previous experience would seem to show that all manoeuvres attempted by the Cassocks end up looking suspiciously like a panicked rush to the rear. The Grand Duchess must surely have some clever plan to overcome the previous obstacles to their effective employment as a battlefield force.

Vahringblancks, the Second!

Now that he has what might pass, at a distance and with the most cursory of looks, as some artillery support, Rumpfler redeploys his forces. (Below) Vahringblancks Hill, the key objective of this battle, he occupies with his infantry and his *cough* cannons.He places his elite regiments in the second line and his regulars in the front. 

Disconcertingly for the Nabstrian infantry, the peasant gunners actually seem quite up for the battle. Seldom heard phrases issue from the vicinity of the Nabstrian batteries - phrases such as: 'Combined arms warfare - I think it's quite important'; 'Where are the doctrine manuals - I feel that technical knowledge should be an important part of our aspiration to be respected military professionals'; and also 'I feel it's important that artillery should make a usful contribution to a battle'.

(Above) on the Nabstrian right, Rumpler deploys all of his cavalry. These include the famed Pfannenstiel Hussars (above left), a unit where men are men; which is useful since, if they were horses it would make riding the other horses slightly more difficult. Sir Thomas Chaffie (above right) commands the cavalry. Why Chaffie is still hanging around in Mittelheim as a soldier of fortune is probably best not explored in any detail. Since better rates of pay can be had working in any European tavern as a spitoon, we must conclude his circumstances are so woeful that even the prospect of death at the hands of his own artillery isn't sufficient to make desertion a palatable option.

(Below) On the far left of the Nabstrian line, the general deploys both units of his irregular infantry. Here, they are able to perform the two key functions of Mittelheim light troops, which are to terrorise squirrels and to keep well out of the way of the fighting.

In their fetching green uniforms, the jager can blend in perfectly with the local flora: assuming, that is, that the trees and bushes are also wearing tricorns, carrying muskets, and threatening the nuts of local bushy-tailed wildlife.

(Above) The main Nabstrian battleline. Nothing says 'Mittelheim military professionals' like having to deploy further back on a hill than intended because one keeps sliding down it. Still, there is every reason for the Nabstrians to feel confident. Rumpfler is an experienced general; his troops are quite experienced; and, well, the enemy is commanded by a girl.

A Rustic Interlude!

'Behold, General!' cries Major Seewurd. 'After some careful thought and some very specific, and indeed graphic, threats to the local peasantry, we have solved the anomaly of our absentee artillery!' There is a dull sonorous clanking, like an average Mittelheimer thinking, or Princess Caroline of Bachscuttel trying to remove her corset.
'What', says General von Rumpler tetchily, 'is that?'
'It is an impromptu artillery piece, sir' replies the major.

'Where?'

'There, sir'.

'I can't see any cannons' says Rumpler. 'Because my view is obscured by that wretched rustheap of renaissance rubbish'.

'It is', chips in Hugo von Stumpe, 'a rather rustic take on long-range fire support'.

'Rustic?' muses the general. 'If what I find in my chamberpot in the morning could be described as "rustic", then yes, rustic it is. A big pile of rustic. Just as you major, are a large rustic head, with rustic for brains. I fully intend to call the provost and have the living rustic beaten out of you'.

Seewurd gulps. 'But sir, whilst the makeshift guns are indeed of a more antiquated design, they are nevertheless robust'.

'Robust! Robust! My mother-in-law is robust, but I still wouldn't use her to fire 12-pound cannonballs'. He stops. 'Although the thought of firing said balls at her ...'

'And there is another advantage to this makeshift alternative to our regular gunners', says Stumpe.

'Which is?'

'They are utterly untrained!'

'You mean, they know nothing of the Mittleheim way of artillery warfare?'

'Nothing at all, sir'.

Rumpler turns to one of the gormless-looking peasant crewmen.

'You man, tell me what you know about cannons'.

The peasant's face contorts with the look of focused concentration that probably normally signals the production of a morning rustic.

'Wot's a cannon, zorr?' he asks finally.

'No knowledge or understanding at all of Mittleheim artillery doctrine? It's a military miracle!' says Rumpler happily. 'Why, that means that they might hit something! Hurrah!'

With renewed vigour, the general orders his battle line to accommodate the ersatz artillery pieces.