Splash and Nab!

Emir Rhoddri's attack now begins to develop a little more momentum. The lead group of pirates has resolved the tangled metaphysical problem of how one might as a pirate cross a stream. Concluding that, though they don't have a vessel, there must be other ways of crossing bodies of water, the pirates first attempt to shape a boat from leaves and twigs. This effort might be judged as not wholly successful; if, of course, we define 'not wholly successful' as something that is situated between 'not at all successful' and 'not successful at all'. Finally, though, they conclude that it might be possible to cross by the expedient of jumping; and, having splashed across it, begin to look forward to nabbing the sheep in the distance (below).

The emir meanwhile is dealing with other tricky difficulties.

'You can't have the trumpet, Binky', he says, scolding his monkey. 'Bad Binky!'

Binky eeks repeatedly.

The emir signs in exasperation. 'Because you keep sticking it into my ear, you little rascal!'

Binky eeks again.

'No, you can't the kittens either'. More furious eeking from Binky.

'Because you keep sticking them into my ear as well. You can keep the rhubarb - what harm can you do with that?'

On the road from the interior of Rotenburg, Baron Hunchmausen's troops finally begin to arrive. The poor march discipline of his troops is one reason for his tardy arrival. The other, however, are the numbers of civilians packing the roads: whole families and their possessions, fleeing the ravages of the Rotenburg government, hoping to surrender to the Burberry pirates and be taken to a life of relative indolence as a slave.
The baron surveys the field. In the distance can be espied garishly caparisoned vagabonds that must surely be the enemy!
Hunchmausen's mood is surprisingly jovial, given the frustrations of his recent march.
'Prepare the men, captain. I feel splendid; fated; dark witches have promised me a favourable future!'
The captain looks surprised. 'That sounds a bit ominous, sir. Aren't dark witches associated with evil: you know, black magic; the devil; poorly fitting shoes; under-cooked sausages, and such like?'
'Well, yes, usually that is so, captain. But these seemed a better quality of evil witch; and surprisingly empathetic for dark crones of satan. I have been promised that fortune will make me duke of Nussholz and Pomme-lesia'.
'Nussholz and Pomm-lesia?' replies the captain.
'So, you've heard of it?'
'Well yes - its ...'.
'Ah. And am I right in surmising that it is a nice place?'
'"Nice" -  well that depends upon what sort of things that you like, sir. Do you like bucolic countryside, warm sunshine, happy peasants?;
'Yes, indeed'.
'Well, sir, then don't go to Nussholz and Pomme-lesia. There are circles of Hell with a more relaxing ambience. My cousin says that it is a squalid flop-heap, peopled with the by-products of a crossing between toads and black puddings.'
'So', says the baron, refusing to be downhearted, 'it's a bit of a fixer-upper. I like a challenge. Which leads me to the battle in hand, of course. First, I must defeat the enemy!'

(Above) Restoring some semblance of order, the three companies of musketeers he deploys into an open column; although, given their very loose comprehension of drill, almost any formation adopted by his men was likely to look a lot like an open column. The baron determines that he will send these troops directly forwards down the road, column formations benefiting from road-bound movement. His light troops will also advance, before peeling off and crossing the Zwei at the bridge. After softening up his ill-disciplined adversaries with some stern volleys of musket-fire, he then intends to break the enemy with the sort of vigorous and decisive action that will see the enemy off - once he thinks of something.

(Above) Five of the eight groups of pirates are committed to crossing the Zwei. Emir Rhoddri hopes that his men, some of whom are skirmishers, will be able to take cover behind the hedge and the barn, and snipe at the enemy regulars.
'Binky, get the rhubarb out of my nose', says Emir Rhoddri, contemplating the evolving situation. Binky hops up and down on the emir's shoulder, chattering loudly.
Kuchuk Huseyin seems to listen carefully. 'But my lord - I think that Binky might have a point: I think that he is saying that we need to send the remainder of our force across to the other flank and cut off the approach from the bridge. We must sustain the initiative; succeed in getting inside our enemy's decision-cycle; triumph in the contest of relative OODA loops'.
'Is he really saying that?' asks Rhoddri, looking sceptically at his second in command. 'I mean to say - OODA loops?'
'A cycle of observing, orienting, deciding, and then acting, your lava-cakeness', replies Huseyin.
'Yes', says the emir, 'Yes. I think that my scepticism wasn't the result of not knowing what an OODA loop is, but rather that you think that my monkey is talking about one. How could that be?'
'There are some surprisingly accessible sources of schooling available in Algiers, my lord - and very reasonably priced'.
'Yes, Huseyin, my loquacious right-hand man. I think the point I'm trying to make is that I'm not sceptical about whether Binky can afford an education; rather, I am drawing attention to the fact that most might think that a rigorous regime of mathematics, history, geography, and philosophy might be wasted upon him because he is, in fact, a monkey'.
'But I've found that he has a refreshingly inquisitive mind, my lord'.
'You wouldn't think that it was so refreshing, Huseyin, if it was your nose he was trying to stick fruit up'. The emir frowns. 'And in any case, how is it that you know what he's saying? When did you learn to speak monkey?'
Huseyin looks defensive. 'I man should always have a hobby', he replies.

(Below) Meanwhile, the lead group of pirates approach the first of their chosen targets. These lads, it's fair to say, are rather inexperienced in life, being mainly goatherds from the Atlas mountains and street urchins of Salle and Tunis. Since joining the crew, of course, they have seen many things on their travels: things of wonder - the pillars of Hercules; the vast oceans of the Atlantic; the glacial volcano peaks of Iceland; the frost-rimed cleavages of the women of northern England; and they have also experienced many terrible things: thirst, hunger; the storms of the North Sea; English food; German comic opera. But they still remain at heart simple lads. Thanks to this inexperience, many still have only a hazy idea of what a 'sheep' might be. Being not entirely clear, they head for the nearest possible target - a flock of surprisingly woolly goats.

(Above, at the top) As the pirates hop over the hedge into the fields, and approach their nervous looking objectives, in the distance, serried ranks of grey-clad troops come into view. Finally, the Rotenburg infantry begin to move into a position to interrupt affairs.
'Form line! Form line!' cries the baron ...