Klosentheim, the Last!

The drums of war now reach a crescendo! This being Mittelheim, it actually sounds more like a bongo solo. (Below, top) Try as they might, the Bachscuttel musketeers cannot hit the large unit of Zentan sipahi cavalry to their front. Perhaps they are intimidated by the size of their opponent's lances, or maybe the enemy seems so easy to hit that the musketeers believe that there is a catch of some sort. It's not like Mittelheim soldiers to overthink a situation, though, so it might be that there is a simpler explanation: they are terrible shots that couldn't hit a barn door if they were lying underneath it. The sipahai look on at their enemy's aim-free antics with the same look of incredulity as Bachscuttel Christmas chimps might have watching the Bachscuttel troops trying to run a tea party.

(Above) It's not all good news for the Zentans, though. Seated on his palanquin, General Taras Bulbous begins to notice the sudden dearth of friendly troops between himself and the enemy. The other Bachscuttel guard regiment, the Tchokolet-Feyer Garde, has dispatched the irregulars to their front and advance menacingly towards the Zentan headquarters.

'The enemy! The enemy!' cries the general, pointing.

'The enemy?' cries his aide.

'The enemy!' replies Bulbous, with extra emphasis.

'The enemy!' agrees his aide.

'I keep saying that!' cries General Bulbous. 'What do you think I'm saying, you moron? "Custard slice"? Come on! Let's get mobile! Get me out of here! Punch it, pig boy!'

Cursing the fact that he cheaped out and went with only the eight-slave palanquin, when he should have gone with the twelve (with spoilers and a roof-rack), Bulbous rereats! His headquarters is overrun, but the general escapes unscathed. The Bachscuttlers loot the headquarters, which seems to contain more than the expected quantity of Turkish delight and nipple-clamps. Thankfully, the Bachscuttlers have very limited imaginations, and quickly move on.

With his irregulars now circling slowly down the waste-pipe of defeat, Bulbous is keen to save his elite sipahis. The cavalry do an about-turn and swiftly head towards safety. Imam Fatih accompanies them, removing some of their disorder with amusing tales of the time that his invitation to the palace mixed up 'Fatih' with 'Farty', which made for a surprisingly tense carriage journey for some of the other guests.

Bulbous leaves another sting in the tail for General Barry-Eylund. To make it even harder for the Bachscuttlers to pursue the cavalry, a strange marsh is discovered that wasn't on the map (above). Demonstrating the measured, reflective, and philosophical demeanour for which he his famous, Barry-Eylund launches into a tirade of apoplectic abuse, in which the inventive use of Turkish Delight and nipple clamps is merely the amuse-bouche to a longer list of anatomically challenging and definitively illegal ways in which other inanimate objects might find their way through various means up General Bulbous' backside.

(Above) Through a combination of fire and movement, the Bachscuttel line routs the infantry in the Zentan centre, leaving only a couple of disordered cavalry units to keep Bulbous' army together.

(Below) On the Zentan right, Bulbous' irregulars continue their attempts to beat the enemy off (not something that could ever be said in Fenwick, of course). But, in a sad case of projectile dysfunction, their limp volleys inflict little damage. In this case, it does matter, and they can't try again later.

Finally, with most of the remaining front line Zentan units in a parlous state, the Zentan commander offers his enemy Honours of War. Barry-Eylund, still perspiring heavily from his earlier outburst, agrees, and the battle comes thankfully to an end. A Bachscuttel victory! 

None of the participants improves their quality as a result of the battle. Zenta receives one Epic Point for fighting the battle, but expended one in order to draw more cards. Bachscuttel gains two Epic Points.

Klosentheim, the Sixth!

Guard infantry! Surely they are the pinnacle of military skill, daring, and professionalism! A paragon of combat competence! A force that the rest of the army can look up to! Or so one might think. On this battlefield, however, they are actually something that one could look down upon; in a quite literal sense, given that the Milchfrau Leib-Garde have been squashed flat by the hooves of the Zentan palace cavalry. The Bachscuttelers are comprehensively defeated (below).

To be fair, the regimental history will be able to state quite categorically that the unit did not rout from the field. But this is only because, after the comprehensive trampling that they received from their enemies, they have about the same mobility as a dining room rug, and also about the same height. The remnants are rolled up and removed from the battlefield.

Barry-Eylund seems unfazed and continues with his plan. This is because he only has one plan, and he intends to continue executing it until he has achieved victory or killed all of his men. In Bachscuttel this is known as 'using one's initiative'. (Above, top) Troops from the second line have filled the gap created by the flattening of the Leib-Garde. The whole Bachscuttel infantry line has been pushed up close to their enemies.

(Above) General Bulbous responds by applying one of the cardinal principles for success in Mittelheim warfare: if it worked last time, try it again, harder. He orders his palace cavalry forward once more in another attempt to break the Bachscuttel line. To give them a bit more oomph, they are accompanied by one of the army's clerics, Imam Fatih. Fatih has already had some experience of the Zentan style of warfare. It is a style that usually favours the bold drinking of coffee, and then sudden strikes against portions of the enemy that look quite short, weak, or preferably asleep. But this time, Bulbous is really going for it, stirrups in and clerics out.

(Above) Alas, this time it doesn't work, and the fresh enemy infantry, with their grenadiers forward, drive the sipahis back. It's a nasty situation: the cavalry are perilously disordered, the enemy infantry are levelling their muskets for a volley, and Imam Fatih has pulled something badly in his Turkish delight.

Klosentheim, the Fifth!

(Below) The Bachscuttel infantry continue their advance. Far to the rear, their cavalry support waits stolidly, snoring. The riders, that is, rather than the horses. Some of the horses are contentedly chewing grass,. Others are idly leafing through Bachscuttel military doctrine for some clues on why, despite their employment in what should surely be the most dangerous, exciting, and decisive of the battlefield arms, their chances of death or serious injury have turned out to be quite a lot less than your average cart horse; even those employed in the transport of Fenwickian melons. Whilst history seems to suggest that combined arms warfare might be the stronger mode of tactical combat, General Barry-Eylund likes to plough his own furrow; then take that furrow and plant pragmatic European battlefield experience; before covering it with horse manure and letting it die in the dark. From the general's actions, it seems his philosophy that it's better to throw his troops in, one combat arm at a time. It's a simple life.

(Above) The Bachscuttel infantry line begins to close in, and musket fire is exchanged. The Zentan irregulars in theory have a range advantage, but Barry-Eylund negates it through 'careful calculation,' a phrase which in his headquarters is a euphemism for the tedious application of a ruler and the tactical calling of a lunch break.

(Above) On the Bachscuttel left, two regiments of elite infantry duel Zentan irregulars ensconced in the woods. Though the Zentans are of dubious quality, they outnumber their adversaries. The Bachscuttel grenadiers struggle to find their enemy: is that a Zentan behind that tree? Or a large squirrel? Or a large squirrel carrying a Zentan? Or a tree with a hat? Or a squirrel in a hat carrying a Zentan?

(Above) The second Bachscittel line has begun to swing outwards to cover the right flank. Luckily for Barry-Eylund, thanks to command and control problems, the Zentan irregulars facing them are still in march column or, as it is more commonly termed in the Sanjak's drill manuals, a conga line. At the very back of the line, the Zentan janissary auxiliaries can only gnash their teeth in frustration. Even if they turn the power of their silly hats up to eleven, they are still too far from the enemy to terrify their enemy. 

Indecisive exchanges of fire continue for a while. General Barry Eylund then decides that it is time to try and regain the initiative. Charging irregulars is always a dicey business, what with their ability to evade. But, lacking any other good ideas, he trusts in luck and the poor state of the Zentan footwear. He orders both of his guard regiments to charge (above)!

(Above, left) One unit of Zentans manages to evade, and scuttles back behind their cavalry. (Above, centre). The red-coated Milchfrau Lieb-Garde, however, catch their silly-hatted opponents and give them a good bayoneting. The Zentans rout. The guard, however, are now quite disordered by their efforts, much of it caused by laughing at those of their adversaries who, in their panicked disintegration, end up sitting on their hats, an activity that is like being given a colonoscopy by an unqualified and unsympathetic rhino.

(Above) General Bulbous decides to exploit the opportunity and orders his elite palace sipahi cavalry to launch an immediate and furious charge, stirrups in! Unused to seeing horses that aren't a long, long way away, and/or reading doctrine manuals, the guards look worriedly as the wall of steel and horseflesh bears down upon them! Still, these are guards, the very elite of the Bachscuttel army: what could go wrong?

Klosentheim the Fourth!

The Bachscuttlers advance with the same speed and grace as a sloth with food poisoning and painful corns (below). While Barry-Eylund, being a Great Captain, is able to keep up with the advancing infantry, no other part of his army is able to, and so the cavalry, light troops, and artillery begin to disappear slowly behind the horizon.

Amongst the Bachscuttel artillery comes the sounds of urgent preparations for a barrage of preparatory cannon fire that will be destructive and also, possibly, decisive. Just joking, of course. The only sound that comes from behind the artillery gabions is the creak of sun loungers being opened. Displaying the organisational adaptiveness for which Bachcuttel troops are famous, the troops have repurposed one of the gabions into a barbecue upon which they roast some local wildlife. Later, it will turn out that what the troops thought was a boar was actually just a short Frenchman. But what they lost in terms of diplomacy, they gained in terms of flavour, so it probably all evened out in the end. 

(Above) Thanks to General Barry-Eylund's tedious attention to the rules of war, some of which he likes anyway to invent, there is no gap around which the Zentan light cavalry can flow to flank the advancing Bachscuttel line. Also, the general has stolen the tape measure.

Amongst the Zentan defenders on this wing, a certain realisation begins to dawn: there's quite a lot of irregular cavalry on the right flank, and not much, actually only one unit in fact, of the sort of troops able to fire. (Above right) That unit moves up through their compatriots and takes cover in the woods, but it still means that, once the enemy infantry line is closer, there's going to be an exchange of small arms in which the Bachscuttelers will have muskets, and the Zentan irregulars are just going to have, well, their very small arms. Inventive though the irregulars are, fruity hand gestures are likely to be less effective in combat than smooth-bore munitions.  

On reflection, it's probably the case that the Zentans are best in attack, where they can deploy to exploit their enemy's weaknesses. General Taras Bulbous realises that his irregular infantry are poorly deployed for the Bachscuttel assault. Never a man afraid to show his balls (the possession of which, in the Zentan harem, can never be taken as a given) he orders much of his irregular infantry into march column (below).

Trusting to the power of their silly yellow hats, Bulbous hopes that his light infantry can dominate the battlefield and reposition themselves before the Bachscuttel firing line can establish itself in a decisive position. To be fair, given the state of Mittleheim military theory, it isn't immediately obvious that a focus on hats wouldn't deliver a decisive military advantage, given that most of the armies in the region consider that the wearing of underpants is the mark of an elite soldier.

(Above) General Bulbous weighs the military situation. Alas for the slaves who have to support his palanquin, the military situation weighs a lot less than the general himself. Bulbous has committed himself to a low-fat diet. But this seems to comprise of quite large quantities of Turkish delight. Sourced from a strange woman in a sleigh, this fat-free but calorific treat means the centre of gravity of the Zentan army lies somewhere surrounding the general's belly button. (Above right) The palace sipahi cavalry await the advance of the enemy infantry. With the elite regiment in front, Bulbous hopes that a cavalry charge might be able to break the Bachscuttel infantry line.

(Above) The Bachscuttel infantry line presses forwards. Can the Zentan irregulars reorient themselves in time? Can they actually spell the word 'reorient '? Or should it be 'reorientate'? And what about the words 'in time'? And is modern infantry combat really about spelling anyway? All of these important questions will be resolved in the next episode! Unless, of course, they aren't.

Klosentheim, the Third!

There are several reasons why General Redmond Barry-Eylund is widely known as 'Der Turtle Koenig'. One is his facial features; others are his love of salad and slow-moving women. But the main reason is the general's preference for military postures so passive that they make even the word 'defensive' sound dangerously risky. It is a mark of Barry-Eylund's tremendous testudinal tendencies that he is able to turtle, even when he is supposed to be attacking.    

The great threat posed by the Zentans is that their hordes of irregulars get around the Bachscuttel flanks as the latter try to advance. Thus, Barry-Eylund has decided that he will attack in the centre and on one flank, whilst refusing the other. The choice of which flank is easy. With Klosentheim nestled between two woods and with a large chunk of rough ground to its front, it makes no sense at all to go that way. The general decides to refuse his right.

(Above) What Barry-Eylund does on his right wing, though, is so much more than just a refusal. In deployment terms, it is the equivalent of being offered an amuse bouche at a party and then, instead of declining politely with the words, 'Alas, no - delicious, I'm sure, but oysters with liquorice and custard really aren't my thing', saying instead 'I hate you, I have slept with your wife and your mother, and I have shot the rest of your family. And no to the oysters'.  This flank is not just refused; it is spurned, denied, rebuffed, declined, and then thrown out.

(Above) The general deploys his artillery so far back that a single violent cough might push them off the edge of the battlefield.

(Above) The cavalry, including a unit of mercenaries, covers the rest of this flank and links the main infantry line to the artillery. Their job is to deal with any Zentan threat as the Bachsctuttel infantry advances and the gap between the infantry and artillery consequently increases. (Below) On the other flank, the troops are pushed as far to the left as they are allowed. 

(Above) Both units of Bachscuttel light troops are also placed there in case they might be useful  - an outcome that would surely be novel.

If an actual turtle had ever been put in a hat and uniform, and made to command an army (which in Mittelheim might not be an historical impossibility), this is how they would advance - like a timid toad in a crash helmet and a fluorescent jacket. With a nod from Barry-Eylund, drummers strike up the advance, and the Bachscuttel line begins to move!

Klosentheim, the Second!

On the Zentan side, and to the far right of the Bachscuttle position, lies the small village of Klosentheim. It sits between two woods, and there is rough ground a little way in front of it. (Below) This flank seems to be held by three regiments of irregulars, whose job, no doubt, is to ensconce themselves in the trees in front of them and make themselves a thorough nuisance. Some of them have silly hats, a sure sign that the Zentans feel this flank is important.

(Below) In front of the village, General Taras Bulbous has positioned both his units of janissaries and both his batteries of artillery. The latter have been entrenched. Behind them are two more regiments of irregular infantry, one of which, since this is an important tactical position, is also equipped with silly hats. One of the janissary units is of elite quality - they have never actually fought a combat, of course, but they have watched so many other Zentans do so and die horribly, that they naturally feel superior.

(Below) The woods and rough ground make Klosentheim, the objective of this battle, a tough proposition. 

Barry-Eylund snorts. 'Well, we can't go that way. It's like Agincourt, but without the picnic area. Forest to either side, rough ground to the front. No, that won't do!'

(Above, left) The Zentan general, Taras Bulbous, has positioned himself on this flank. (Below) The Zentan centre is composed of a hotch-potch of cavalry. Both units of palace sipahis occupy the open ground. Two units of irregular cavalry hold the nearby hill. Behind them, more irregular infantry mill about: some angry Albanians and some Borat tribesmen. If the intent is that they are there to shoot any slacking cavalry, pour encourager les autres, then this is likely to fail because the infantry don't speak French. 

(Below) Finally, facing the Bachscuttel left, four more units of irregulars, one being infantry and the others cavalry. They wait, a slavering, bovine-witted collection of disparate ethnic groups and poor personal hygiene, to swarm out of the forest and insinuate themselves around the flanks of the advancing enemy. 

(Below) Having decided to defend, Taras Bulbous waits in his strong defensive position. 

'It's not too late, sir', says Major Bohner to Barry-Eylund. 'I could still see if we've got some pantomime cow outfits'.

Barry-Eylund shakes his head ruefully. 'It's too late for that, major', he says. The general lost his last battle by spending too long in what he likes to call 'shaping operations' but that others might call 'arsing about'. 'No, we have to attack quickly! Here are my orders - deploy our troops!'

Klosentheim, the First!

Wherein the army of the Palatinate of Saukopf-Bachscuttel, under General Redmond Barry-Eylund, encounters the forces of the Sanjak of Zenta, commanded by General Taras Bulbous.

'There they are!' says General Redmond Barry-Eylund, commander of the Bachscuttel army. 'There they are, Bohner. Look at them all!'

The General's aide de campe, Major Bohner, raises his telescope and surveys the enemy.

The general and his escort sit atop a small hill near the village of Klosentheim. The Bachscuttel army, advancing tentatively after their narrow defeat at Falkenhelle, has now encountered a new and unexpected adversary, blocking their way - the Zentans!

'What of the composition of their forces?' asks the general.

'There's quite a lot of them, sir', says the major. 'I can see Borat irregulars, bowmen, janissaries, Albanians, Giezza tribesmen, delli cavalry, sipahis, four Nazgul, It, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, the Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, and some bloke whose second name might be Farage'.

'We can certainly buy that last fellow off', says Barry-Eylun, snorting. 'Have the scouts returned?'

'Yes sir, but ...'

'Excellent! What sort of terrain are we facing?'

'Rough terrain, sir: seems to be two hills, four forests, rough ground, a ploughed field, and the urban area of Klosentheim. However ...'

'Splendid! Splendid!' snorts the general. 'I feel good about this! We just have to triumph in the scouting, and then I go on the defensive! I intend turtling so hard, they'll have to change my name to General Leonardo Donatello Raphael Michelangelo!'

'But, sir ...'

'Because, you know, the Zentans are tricky, tricky, tricky! So many irregulars that they wriggle around one's flanks, and, before you can say "where's my wallet gone?" they're all over you!'

'Alas, sir ...' sighs Bohner ruefully.

Barry-Eylund's jaw drops. 'We lost the scouting contest again?'

The major nods.

'No! No! No! Give me that telescope!' says the general roughly. He looks at the dispositions of the enemy troops. 

'What! What!' mutters Barry-Eylund. He then turns to Bohner. 'So, major, correct me if I'm missing anything, but there are nine terrain features...'

'Yes, sir'.

'And we've managed to secure one hill ...'

'Yes, sir'

'And they've got everything else ...'

'Yes, sir: one hill, four forest features, the town, some rough ground, and a ploughed field'.

'And they've lined the whole lot of them up into one big defensive position, which is now infested with irregulars like fleas on one of my fusiliers'.

'It would seem so, sir' says Bohner sadly. 'We're going to have to attack'.

Barry-Eylund takes some snuff to calm himself down. 'I'm out of ideas, Bohner. Here, hand me some military theory. Let's see what advice it might contain'.

The major reaches into his satchel and hands him a slim volume.

'"Mes Gueules de Bois"' says Barry-Eylund, reading the spine.

'A most useful work by the strategist Horace de Saxe, sir'.

Horace de Saxe, Maurice's brother, fancies himself as a military theorist . He is, it has to be said, one of the best strategists out of those who are brothers to Maurice de Saxe and whose first name is Horace.

The general flicks through it. 'Do we have any pantomime cow outfits?' he asks.

'I don't think so, sir'.

'Well, that renders most of the first five chapters irrelevant', says the general despondently.

'We could retreat, sir' says Bohner hopefully.

'Wait, wait!' the general suddenly says. 'This page gives me an idea!'

'That page, sir? It seems to be blank'.

'Best part of the book', replies Barry-Eylund. 'Now, give me the telescope, and let's see the Zentan deployment. I have an idea ...'