Hednitz!

Wherein the army of the Burgravate of Nabstria under 'General Hieronymous von Rumpfler' encounters the army of the Voivodate of Vulgaria, commanded by General Hertz van Rentall 

Captain Hugo von Stumpe mops his perspiring brow and surveys the field of battle. Dressed in Rumpfler's clothes, Stumpe also tries in his bearing to evince all of the General's most obvious mannerisms: his calmness; his experienced professionalism; his dislike of French cheeses; and his consuming lust for Nora Hindquarters - not an easy trick when one is just holding a telescope. Stumpe feels peculiarly alone. To avoid having the General's deception rumbled, Stumpe has banished the usual Nabstrian staff officers back to the headquarters tent, citing his desire to avoid them becoming casualties in the ensuing battle. The staff officers protest heavily in the usual Nabstrian fashion at being robbed of the chance to test their manhood in the heat of enemy fire, making such comments as: 'Thank goodness!', 'Suits me', and 'Wake me when it's all over.' Stumpe turns the telescope around and looks through the bigger end: but even with the Vulgarians now much further away he still feels uncertain.
'Well,' says Stumpe to the figure in the wicker carriage next to him, 'any way one looks at it, those Vulgarians don't seem to me to be an army on the brink of collapse.'
Next to him, Marshal Horace de Saxe brushes crumbs from the blanket that covers his legs and nods sagely.
'Well, my good fellow: I warned you,' he says to the "general."
Stumpe frowns. 'No you didn't, my good Saxe.'
Saxe shakes his head, 'I distinctly remember that as soon I arrived here I made the comment "those Vulgarians don't seem to me to be an army on the brink of collapse,"'
'No you didn't, my good Saxe,' replies Stumpe. 'What you said was "I'm hungry, get me some pie" and then "I'm not wearing any britches under this blanket - put your hand under and see."'

Stumpe returns to his survey of the Vulgarian lines.

(Right, bottom) The Vulgarian army seems to be well deployed and ready for battle. In the centre, and making use of Hednitz hill, the Vulgarian commander, General Herz van Rentall, has placed his artillery, under the command of Cameron von Muller. To the left of the hill are positioned three of the five Vulgarian infantry regiments; to the right are the remaining two regiments, including the Vulgarian foot guard. All three of the Vulgarian regular cavalry regiments are deployed on the extreme left of the line, two up and one behind in reserve. On the extreme right, in the woods, are the four irregular regiments, two of foot and two of horse.

In the woods themselves, the Vulgarian irregulars wait patiently. The Dutch mercenaries, Captain Kleinvarken and Colonel Kurtz, expect action soon and try to fortify the spirits of their troops.

'Steady, men,' cries Kleinvarken. 'Our adversaries are mere Nabstrians and should hold no terror for you. Do not fear death!'

'Indeed!' cries Kurtz, brushing aside Kleinvarken who seems to be making a respectful attempt, befitting a subordinate officer, to cover the Colonel's mouth. 'You should not fear death. There is no point. After all, life has no intrinsic meaning; no real value. Your lives - all our lives - have no significance or purpose in the great scheme of the universe. Life is just pain, and cruelty, and one's wife running off with a short Spaniard ...'

'Colonel, sir!' interjects Kleinvarken. 'I think that you should stop.'

'But I hadn't got to the really uplifting bits ...'

'Too much of a good thing, sir,' says Kleinvarken. 'You have the men dangerously fired up,' he continues, using his kerchief to mop the tears of a nearby soldier.

The noises now emanating from the Nabstrian camp indicate that the forces of the Burgravate are deploying for action!

(Left) Following the scheme of battle communicated to him the previous evening by General von Rumpfler, Stumpe places his entire regular infantry force into march columns on the right of his line. The Nabstrian plan is as obvious as a Mittelheim pun and only slightly less related to genitals. As Stumpe understands it, Rumpfler's plan of battle is to throw forward his infantry as fast as possible. Utilising the advantages of cadenced drill, the Nabstrian foot will then form line and advance quickly against the Vulgarian left. The troops should then be able to crush the Vulgarian regular horse with musketry and then, wheeling to the left, roll up the Vulgarian troops before the right wing of their army has a chance to intervene. Stumpe, however, is worried.
'The general's plan is a good one; but these Vulgarians look as if they have plenty of fight in them. Damn those Bachscuttel knaves - I sense that they have duped us!'
De Saxe stares down intently into his wicker carriage. Stumpe looks at him unhappily.

'Cease you navel gazing, sir! We are running out of time. Also, having seen the state of your navel, I cannot see that gazing at it will help us. Is there nothing in your accumulated military wisdom that might give us a further edge over our foes?'

The Marshal holds up a well-thumbed volume. 'I have here a copy of my famous tome Mes Gueules de Bois - "My Hangovers." It is full of military insight drawn from my own experiences in the field.'

Stumpe reaches forwards and, before de Saxe can stop him, the captain has pinched the book and begins leafing through it.

'Excellent', says the captain. 'Let's look for "strategems" in the index. Let's see - "str," "stra" - oh: here we go. Let me see: "straddling," "straighteners," "straight jacket," "stranded," "strangulation," "strapless," - "strapless?"

De Saxe shrugs - 'when in Rome.'

(Right) Meanwhile, to the left of the Nabstrian line, and chafing at the bit (or possibly it is just a bit of chafing), the Nabstrian cavalry are restless for a fight. The von Pfanenstiel hussars face their first action, and their Inhaber is hungry for glory! The Nabstrian artillery and two regiments of light troops hold the centre in case of a precipitous advance by the Vulgarian irregulars. Behind them, Stumpe continues his search for inspiration.

'Well,' he says to de Saxe, looking at the Marshal's memoirs, 'what about references to tactics? Here we go,' he says leafing further through the index. '"Tackle (see also Wedding)," "Tactless (see also Visit to French King)." De Saxe, exactly what sort of useful experience do you have that qualifies you as a military advisor?"

The Marshal looks aggrieved. 'Captain, I am well versed in the arts of superior military mental activity.'
Stumpe grimaces, 'I have a suspicion, sir, that much of your military activity could be labelled superiorly "mental." I mean, are there any references in your memoirs even to "war?" Indeed look,' he points at the index - "Wack," "Waddle," "Waffle (see also Waddle)," "Waggle (see also Wench)," "Wail (see also Wench, Prison, and Bribe)," "Waistline," "Walrus (see also Waffle and Waistline)," "Wantoness," "Warrant (see also Wantoness, Wench, France, Prison, Bribe and Flee)." Dammit, this is pointless.' Stumpe throws de Saxe's memoirs back into the wicker carriage.
De Saxe looks picqued, 'There is some very salient advice about elephants,' he says sniffily.

Stumpe shakes his head. 'Zounds, let's just get on with this and hope for the best.' As the rank-and-file of his army look on, "General von Rumpfler" signals for attention, and then gestures forwards with his hand. (Above) The Nabstrian musicians strike up a lively version of the traditional folk song 'I've Never Had My Hands on a Country Slice I Didn't Like' and the infantry columns advance forwards towards the Vulgarian line ....