The smoke from the explosion, orange-tinged in the dawn light, soon clears. The detonation of the two pigs has been completely successful in its objectives. (Below) To the right, the defensive ravelin has been reduced to a pile of entirely unrealistic looking rocks. To the left, the bastion has been heavily damaged, leaving a route up for the assaulting troops.
On the other flank, the ladder companies climb awkwardly from their trenches and begin to advance as swiftly as they can towards the fortress walls (below). They can attack confident in the knowledge that they will receive supporting fire from the very best Bachscuttel mortar crew - the very best, of course, because it is the only Bachscuttel mortar crew. With the stirring cry of 'Hmmm ... which bit do I light?', there is an explosion, and the first munition sails out of the barrel and heads somewhere westwards. This is disappointing, given that the fortress is northwards.
(Below) In front of the bastion, Gelderland troops are crowded behind the crown of the glacis. With silent determination, or perhaps just sullen resentment (it is still too dark to tell), the leftward column begins to move forwards. It consists of three companies of grenadiers. This force is tasked with breaking through the defences: the troops following will then exploit the success of this leading force; or, possibly, just retrieve the remains of their bodies. If only they had a wheel barrow.
(Above) The defensive artillery in the bastion have been completely destroyed in the blast. Covering the hole in the bastion is a single available company of Fenwickian musketeers without supporting cannon. They peer out into the gradually lifting gloom and fix bayonets, ready to receive the enemy attack columns, or anything else that happens to appear. The officers keep the troops silent - partly to avoid alerting the enemy forces to their presence, and partly to reduce the chances of the dangerous utterance of phrases involving such words as 'column' and 'hole'.
(Above) The Gelederland troops move forwards, heading through the covered way and up the bastion. The lead company of the column forms the forlorn hope. Or, as it might be better termed here, just a 'forlorn', since 'hope' is in very short supply. In other armies, the forlorn hope would be volunteers, motivated to undertake this most dangerous of missions because of the promise of significant rewards - promotions, pay, and booze. Because these troops are in an army from Mittelheim, they are volunteers in the same sort of sense as Boris and Dominic the pigs. That is, they aren't quite sure what's going on, but they are willing to play along in the hope that they will get a larger breakfast.
As the lead company of grenadiers reaches the top of the breach, they are disconcerted to hear a loud 'Huzzah!'. The company of Fenwickians goes through the motions and fires off a volley from their muskets. Naturally, however, they do no damage, their fire being as inaccurate as an English government report on the numbers of plague deaths. (Above) Moving quickly to the main event, the Fenwickians then charge forwards, intent upon sealing the breach here; or at least gaining the time for more reinforcements to move up in support!.
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