Bogorovsk, the First!

Gauging the weather, dear readers*, this must be summer. Gauging the smell, this must be the border town of Bogorovsk in Kurland. Gauging the competence of the besieging force, this must be the Nabstrian army.

Testing the power of the law of averages, General Hieronymous von Rumpfler has decided to confront once again the troops of the Grand Duchy of Kurland. This time, though, he has besieged the enemy within a town, a condition that should reduce the enemy's mobility and allow the Nabstrians to leverage one of the key strengths of their army - their ability to move mud from one place to another destination that is quite close by. Utilising this skill, the besieging army has already managed to construct the first two parallels of their siege lines.

Content with the progress thus far, Rumpfler has found time to meet various important personages attached to his headquarters (below). One is Bishop Munschrugge, who has come to bless the efforts of the Burgravate's army. This is an activity that, to an outsider untutored in religious doctrine, might seem functionally the same as getting wildly hammered on the general's store of port, and then exposing his buttocks to passers by, on the basis that the Good Lord blesses those who turn the other cheek. Also here, however, is Lady Katherine Timsbury of Somerton, an advocate of something known as 'professional military education'. If we move closer, we might be able to hear the conversation ...

'And so, general, I think that I have demonstrated the great value that might accrue to your army if you signed up to the King's College's extra special programmes for the education of military officers'.

'But Lady Somerton, is it not the case that you have been selling these courses to our adversaries?'
'Of course - my institution takes its ethical responsibilities very seriously'.
'So, you would be against war, and conflict, and violence, and things such as that?'
'No, no: it's just that we sell to both sides so that we cannot be accused of unethical favouritism'.
'Well, how much are these courses?'
'I would be embarrassed to say, sir'
'Well, that's very ...'
'But I'll happily write it down here on a contract ....'
'How much? Jumping Jesus', the general blasphemes. 'That's as much as I spend on port in a month!'
'Well', says Timsbury, coyly. 'Perhaps, under the circumstances, I might do you a special deal'. She crosses out something and then writes something else.
'Jesus pole-vaulting Christ!', exclaims Rumpfler. 'That figure is higher than the first one!'
'Well, sir, there's been a sudden jump in demand'.

'But my army is large', says the general. He watches two of his sappers hit one another with shovels. 'And the need is very great. How can you possibly find sufficient tutors to begin the education of my army?'

Lady Somerton produces a pistol. 'Well, general, if it bleeds ...', she cocks the pistol, '... it can teach. Just give me a cart, some restraints, and directions to the nearest village'.
'There's also the additional work', says Rumpfler. 'My troops are already busy'. He gestures to some sappers who are experimenting with which end of a shovel seems a more efficient mechanism for moving soil. 'How will they have time for this process of education?'

'You may have heard', says Lady Somerton, 'of the new-fangled technique of Ape Interpretation?'

'AI? Yes, madame. But you can't mean that ...'

'Indeed, sir - you can just get the monkeys to do the donkey work. Or the donkeys to do the monkey work - I don't suppose that it matters'.

'But won't the fraud be exposed when you mark the work, madame?'

'Mark the work? ha, ha, ha, ha ... oh, you're actually serious'. Lady Katherine strikes a solemn pose. 'At the King's College, we feel that marking work is a judgmental and inequitable process that crushes the creative faculties of our students. So, we gently drop any written work down a set of stairs and let God sort them out'.

'That doesn't seem quite right', says Rumpfler. 'I mean, it seems quite wrong ...'

'I think', says Lady Katherine, 'that one of the many advantages of taking our courses would be that you would begin to understand that everything is contested and just a matter of perspective - except, of course, our prices'.

'Well, excellent', says Rumpfler. 'I think that with some quality postgraduate professional military education, we have a ninety per cent chance of success!'

Lady Timsbury watches as one of the sappers begins to eat the dirt that he has just shovelled.
'Ninety per cent seems quite high, sir ...'

* I use the plural more in hope than certainty.