Klosentheim, the First!

Wherein the army of the Palatinate of Saukopf-Bachscuttel, under General Redmond Barry-Eylund, encounters the forces of the Sanjak of Zenta, commanded by General Taras Bulbous.

'There they are!' says General Redmond Barry-Eylund, commander of the Bachscuttel army. 'There they are, Bohner. Look at them all!'

The General's aide de campe, Major Bohner, raises his telescope and surveys the enemy.

The general and his escort sit atop a small hill near the village of Klosentheim. The Bachscuttel army, advancing tentatively after their narrow defeat at Falkenhelle, has now encountered a new and unexpected adversary, blocking their way - the Zentans!

'What of the composition of their forces?' asks the general.

'There's quite a lot of them, sir', says the major. 'I can see Borat irregulars, bowmen, janissaries, Albanians, Giezza tribesmen, delli cavalry, sipahis, four Nazgul, It, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, the Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, and some bloke whose second name might be Farage'.

'We can certainly buy that last fellow off', says Barry-Eylun, snorting. 'Have the scouts returned?'

'Yes sir, but ...'

'Excellent! What sort of terrain are we facing?'

'Rough terrain, sir: seems to be two hills, four forests, rough ground, a ploughed field, and the urban area of Klosentheim. However ...'

'Splendid! Splendid!' snorts the general. 'I feel good about this! We just have to triumph in the scouting, and then I go on the defensive! I intend turtling so hard, they'll have to change my name to General Leonardo Donatello Raphael Michelangelo!'

'But, sir ...'

'Because, you know, the Zentans are tricky, tricky, tricky! So many irregulars that they wriggle around one's flanks, and, before you can say "where's my wallet gone?" they're all over you!'

'Alas, sir ...' sighs Bohner ruefully.

Barry-Eylund's jaw drops. 'We lost the scouting contest again?'

The major nods.

'No! No! No! Give me that telescope!' says the general roughly. He looks at the dispositions of the enemy troops. 

'What! What!' mutters Barry-Eylund. He then turns to Bohner. 'So, major, correct me if I'm missing anything, but there are nine terrain features...'

'Yes, sir'.

'And we've managed to secure one hill ...'

'Yes, sir'

'And they've got everything else ...'

'Yes, sir: one hill, four forest features, the town, some rough ground, and a ploughed field'.

'And they've lined the whole lot of them up into one big defensive position, which is now infested with irregulars like fleas on one of my fusiliers'.

'It would seem so, sir' says Bohner sadly. 'We're going to have to attack'.

Barry-Eylund takes some snuff to calm himself down. 'I'm out of ideas, Bohner. Here, hand me some military theory. Let's see what advice it might contain'.

The major reaches into his satchel and hands him a slim volume.

'"Mes Gueules de Bois"' says Barry-Eylund, reading the spine.

'A most useful work by the strategist Horace de Saxe, sir'.

Horace de Saxe, Maurice's brother, fancies himself as a military theorist . He is, it has to be said, one of the best strategists out of those who are brothers to Maurice de Saxe and whose first name is Horace.

The general flicks through it. 'Do we have any pantomime cow outfits?' he asks.

'I don't think so, sir'.

'Well, that renders most of the first five chapters irrelevant', says the general despondently.

'We could retreat, sir' says Bohner hopefully.

'Wait, wait!' the general suddenly says. 'This page gives me an idea!'

'That page, sir? It seems to be blank'.

'Best part of the book', replies Barry-Eylund. 'Now, give me the telescope, and let's see the Zentan deployment. I have an idea ...'