That's a Lovely Breach: I Shall Inform My Dear Friends!

At the breach, the Gelderland attackers make a breakthrough! Implausibly fumbling the combat, the defending Fenwickians are broken faster than King Wilhelm of Gelderland's will power in a shop full of bosom-shaped custards. Blubbering and flubbering, they stream down the nearby access ramp. The other group of routing Fenwickians can now add self-righteous certainty to their emotional mix of stupifying terror and cowardice - seeing a unit of comrades also doing a runner, they no-doubt feel validated in their decision to shift into some spineless sprinting.

Spineless sprinting, of course, should be physiologically quite difficult, but one can always trust troops from the region of Mittelheim to make sure that such impediments as the laws of biology and physics bend to the necessity of a good rout. (Above, bottom) The rout thrusts into the zone of danger yet another Fenwickian company of musketeers. Recognising that now is the best chance to utilise the disorder of the victorious enemy grenadiers, this company also lowers bayonets and charges forwards (below). Behind them, a column of Fenwickian grenadiers moves smartly up. Or rather, not just a company, but the company of Fenwickian grenadiers. Importantly, these are last unbroken Fenwickian troops available to defend this part of the fortress.

(Below) Huzzah! Compensating for the cowardice of their craven cronies, the Fenwickian musketeers drive the enemy grenadiers before them. Bleating and wailing, the Gelderlanders throw aside their muskets and pour back down the breach and into the covered way. Behind them, the first lot of Gelderland routers have continued their gutless gallop, and head in the direction of the second parallel. Lady Luck, who has already swung drunkenly from the arms of the Fenwickians and into those of the Gelderlanders, now waltzes back again.

Death, watching from nearby, takes a few steps back. Lady Luck, booze, and excessive dancing is a mix that hard experience tells him will have a range of predictable outcomes. There will be excessive swings of fate, implausible incidents, far-fetched feats, copious tears, probably finishing in an excessive quantity of non-corporeal chunder. On the subject of events unlikely and implausible, somehow all four of the ladder companies have reached the walls. Such a circumstance can be explained only by the miraculously poor shooting of the defending troops, and the continued advance of an attacking force almost too stupid to feel fear.

(Above) The ladders are placed against the walls and the troops prepare to climb. This process takes longer than might be expected. Unfortunately, the troops being merely almost too stupid to feel fear means that some glimmers of alarm and uncertainty do begin to force their way to the front of the bovine minds of the Gelderland musketeers. There is an awkward pause. Luckily, a poor sense of direction means that most of these concerns eventually get lost on the way. There is a minor outbreak of sudden politeness in some quarters, with a bit of "After you"; "Oh no - I insist, after you"; but soon, the troops begin to climb.

(Above) To the left of the Gelderland line, one of the companies even manages to find a bit of wall that is undefended. Of course, the ladder itself is quite a considerable adversary, what with the troops needing to remember that, once on them, one should face upwards; that the options available for travel should probably be limited to up, and not sideways; and that one might need to use one foot at a time when climbing them, and not, say, both. Still, the officer is quickly standing unopposed on the battlements, motivated by glory or perhaps an earlier chance to change sides. Lady Luck, it seems, may well be flopping back into the arms of the forces of Gelderland. Or is she ... ?