Looking forward to a return to normalcy

 Well Campers, November was sure a whirlwind month for the juvat clan and friends, not that I'm complaining.  Good friends, beautiful scenary, good food, great wine, what's not to like?

There were a few bumps in the road, but nothing that couldn't be handled*.  The holiday season began when MBD and crew drove over from their neck of the woods arriving around 10PM the day before Thanksgiving. (FYI, The Rev's Mom and Mrs J had a high level conference to decide who the kids and grand kids spend which holiday with each of us.  This year we got Thanksgiving. Next year Christmas.) 

In any case, Mrs J and I greeted them as they arrived and I assisted in getting little Leon' out of his car seat.  

He expressed his gratitude by spraying the milk contents of his stomach all over me.  A baptism of fire so to speak.  Fortunately, I have a larger inventory of clean clothes than he does,  I didn't have to run around in my underwear.  

Yes, Sarge, I realized a mental picture of that would have scarred your mind for eternity.

Two sets of clothes went immediately into the washer and some medicinal wine was served to the adults.  

Who? Me?

 

 

 

The city had decorated our town square (AKA The Marktplatz) for  Christmas.  It had an Ice Skating Rink, lots of things to climb on and slide down for the younger set.

Even some not so young kids (AKA The Rev) were climbing on things.  Leon' is impressed with his father's monkey skills.

They even had a Glockenspiel Weihnachtspyramide . Miss Mags wanted an upclose view thereof.

 

The rest of the holiday went by relatively smoothly until RTB.  All visitors were loaded in the car.  The Rev was in the back seat to take care of the kids.  Just after car start Leon' decided to baptize The Rev with milk (pre-consumed of course) which also doused MBD in the driver seat.  So...a quick change of clothes, dirty ones went into the washer.  We'll be mailing them to MBD shortly.

As you can see, a highly entertaining Thanksgiving week.  

That having been said, it was nice to have at least part of the family here.  Just as an FYI, while writing the first draft of this post we also spent about an hour video chatting with Little J,  LJW and Miss B catching up on their Thanksgiving.  

Ain't technology grand?  An hour on a live video halfway around the world for FREE?  A ten minute phone call with waves of garbled conversation from Kunsan ROK to Las Vegas cost about $100 in 1981.  That was a significant portion of my monthly salary.   It still amazes me, but I'm extremely grateful for the improved technology.

To change the subject somewhat, this is going to be a not very fun week.  This afternoon (Monday), I'll be visiting my GP.  This'll be my quarterly "Poke and Prod" visit.  I do have a couple of things I want to discuss with him also.  He's a good guy.  Straight shooter.  We'll see what we will see.

Tuesday, first thing, I visit the dentist.  I'm having a crown replaced.  She has me on Amoxicillin and said I will be completely sedated (AKA knocked out).  Not sure why that might be, but she's the Doc.  

Wednesday, I get to visit my Cardiologist, that's always an interesting visit.  I've been pretty darn religious about taking my meds, but there are still a few symptoms I'm a bit concerned about.   We'll see.

Finally, my Brother will be arriving on Friday.  Had enough of California, so is moving here.  He'll be put up in one of our guest houses until he gets settled.

So...Lots of balls in the air.  We'll see what the results will be.

Peace out, y'All!

*Handled by the Ladies. Handled by The Rev and I?  Not a chance, we'd still be trying to clean things up, including ourselves!

 

Post-Thanksgiving Food Coma

Thanksgiving morning in San Diego                                                               Chris Mannerino Photo

Happy Thanksgiving weekend from the not-so-left coast.¹  I trust you all had a nice filling Thanksgiving and avoided the Black Friday rush. Online shopping kind of eliminated that for me, but I didn't do any ordering on Friday either.  I'm grateful to have grown out of my interest in owning and wanting things. I would rather have a Christmas where I get rid of things that are in my garage and closet.  "It's Christmas Morning!  Come and take something, please!"

 

Thursday's Gobbling Dining Room, played by our sunroom.

It was somewhat of a mad rush in our house since we hosted my big family. Yes, again.  I'm a glutton for punishment I guess.  Although it is Thanksgiving so maybe I'm just a glutton.  I feel a little bad because the house was prepared almost entirely by my wife last weekend, as I was off having fun.  See the following photos.

F-1 Race in Las Vegas from the window of my timeshare.

  It was supposed to be about 20 people, which is pretty large but the number swelled to 32 with "I know this young Navy family, can I invite them?"  And "I have two friends that have nowhere to go, can I bring them along?"  And a stray or two along the way.  The answer is always yes.   And my own sister and her husband changed their RSVP from no to yes as she got the day off.  Actually, a shattered ankle that's still bothering her gave her the day off, but she returns to work on Monday.  I sent her home with a bunch of leftovers and my wife's knee scooter which she has used twice, each time for a broken foot, but on opposite legs.  Yes, my wife is a teensy bit accident prone.  

I don't know if I've ever mentioned my sister here, one of two that I have. One lives up in Oregon near my brother, and the other down here near me in Escondido.  She's a bit of a loner though and I don't see her too often. She works in a casino as the Events Manager, so she always has to work the holidays.  I think she likes that excuse though as it helps her remain a recluse and avoid the family get-togethers on occasion.  

I always enjoy Thanksgiving, although hosting can be a bit more stressful than I'd like.  In a frantic rush to finish stuffing yesterday morning I sliced a finger. I blame the onions which irritated my eyes, so I lost focus.  And when moving turkey from a roaster to a platter, I got a pretty hefty burn on my palm.  After some ice therapy, it was nothing that an Old Fashioned and a couple glasses of Pinot Noir couldn't fix.  While I can't attest to their medicinal properties, it did take away the sting somewhat. 

                        Source

It's a potluck affair so sending everyone home with their dishes and clamshell takeout plates with leftovers, ensured our refrigerator wasn't still jam-packed.  Someone left an entire Costco pumpkin pie, a bottle and a half of that pinot, and enough turkey to keep me fed for a couple days before I get tired of it.  I tossed out the turkey carcasses this year, as I knew I wouldn't be interested in turkey soup after eating my fill of turkey cuttings over the weekend.  I will have to have discipline with that pie though.

While the leftovers are plentiful, the rolls went fast, so I'll have to make another grocery store run, especially since no one brought my favorite sliced canned cranberry sauce.  I probably made a few of you gag with that one, as I know that particular side dish is not everyone's favorite.  I make a little stacked meal with my turkey day leftovers. I smash some stuffing into a hockey puck shape, frying that up, then layering a slice of cranberry, some mashed potatoes, also puck shaped, some delicately placed turkey, and topping it all off with gravy.  It makes the leftovers more presentable, and therefore more acceptable going into Saturday or Sunday. 

As we drove up to my cousins to drop off all the extra tables and chairs, I noticed that the parking lots of a mall and a Walmart were jam-packed.  As I mentioned earlier, I'm happy to have those days behind me, either because our kids are grown, or I have transitioned to a point in my life where I only desire to minimize what I own, vice wanting "things."  I'm at that stage where if I need something I get it, but I don't really want anything more.  And a very lucrative yard sale a few months ago is testament to that.  My wife and I exchange one or two gifts, maybe a couple more for my kids, but that's about it. We used to go to a movie on Christmas Day after opening presents, but the tripe that comes out of Hollywood these days rarely interests us.  We'll see what interests us in a few weeks.

Taylor Sheridan shows on Paramount    Source

There's a few things on TV which we watch though.  We are a few episodes into the newest, and last season of Yellowstone; Special Ops: Lioness is pretty good for a TV action flick.  And we also watch Tulsa King with Sylvester Stallone, all on Paramount, and all written by Taylor Sheridan who is one talented guy.  Great stuff coming off of his writing desk.  I'm also rewatching Ted Lasso, this time with my wife as I was finally able to convince her to watch, and she too is now hooked on what is a wonderful series.  On my nightstand I've got a recent book by John Grisham, having just finished another Jack Ryan Jr series, and a Jack Reacher book.  I don't read as voraciously as I did in my teens through my thirties, and now get barely a half dozen pages down before I crash into my pillow.  These are actually on my Barnes & Noble "Nook" reader, as I check my books out from the library and E-read them.  Again, part of me not wanting "things" filling up my house.

So how's your weekend going?  What's running on your television and or sitting on your bedside table?  Did you shop till you dropped?

Source

Merry Christmas, time to go eat some pie.  You want some?  I've got more than I need.

¹Just a tiny bit of politics.  Every state moved red, even deep blue California.  It's more bruise colored now, but I wouldn't exactly call it purple.  But that's a post for another day.

The Thanksgiving That Was

Thanksgiving Morning, around 0800
OAFS Photo

Plans had been tossed about in the early days of autumn as to what The Missus Herself and Your Humble Scribe might be planning for the Thanksgiving holiday. LUSH, of course, wanted us in California. The Nuke was hoping we'd amble down to the Old Line State to spend Thanksgiving on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay.

As The Missus Herself had been in California not that long ago and was rather hoping not to make that long trip again for a while (back being in not so good shape but getting better), California was ruled out rather early on. We were sorta leaning towards Maryland, but as plans were already on the books to go there to celebrate the Birth of the Savior, I proposed New Hampshire for Thanksgiving at my Mom's house.

Thanksgiving Evening, around 1800
OAFS Photo

Well ...

As The Missus Herself pointed out, there was literally no place to stay at my Mom's, her spare bedroom being given over, as it were, to my kid brother's living area, as he, The Musician, had moved in with Mom back in the spring.

He, being retired, and Mom, unable to safely be on her own any more, it seemed a good idea. And it was, is, and remains so. So, where would we stay if New Hampshire was chosen?

My other kid brother, Ye Olde Vermonter proposed a solution. As my nephew, his son, The Young Vermonter, runs a rather nice and rather underused inn in my hometown, he might see his way clear to comping us a room. In fact, he insisted.

I tried to end run that by reserving a room and planning to pay, nephew canceled that and gave us a better room. I mean, the place is virtually empty, the owner seems to be maintaining its upkeep as a tax write-off, and why not take care of us along the way?

So yeah, we had a nice place to stay for two nights (the first three pictures are from our room) and we had a lovely time with my Mom and my two brothers.

The Musician had ordered a full up Thanksgiving feast from a local grocery emporium which came pre-cooked (so all that was needed was to warm everything up, then eat). Lodgings, check. Food, check.

So how about the weather?

The Morning after Thanksgiving, around 0800
OAFS Photo

Oh Lordy it was frightful.

We had a nice drive up on Wednesday, spent some time at Mom's after checking in to the inn, and pigged out on food which we'd brought up with us. Light fare, a charcuterie board, an ocean-load of shrimp cocktail, and some spring rolls and potstickers which The Missus Herself had prepped on Tuesday.

We pigged out and headed back to try and get some sleep after our three hours on the road. We sort of slept. Comfortable bed but first night in a strange place is always restless.

Thanksgiving dawned with a couple of inches of snow on the ground and snow still falling rather heavily. It was pretty heavy stuff and was falling fast.

Road maintenance in my hometown, where there is almost no industry and virtually no jobs to be had, has gone way downhill since my childhood. Back in my day the plows would have been out almost as soon as the white stuff began to accumulate. These days it seems they wait until it stops.

Ye Olde Vermonter swears that the town is now run by a bunch of 14-year olds with scarcely any talent at running anything, and the state of the roads on the way to Mom's on Thanksgiving was shameful.

The state had plowed their roads, just the town decided "to hell with it."

Thank the Lord for All Wheel Drive and Honda's very efficient Anti-lock Braking System. Going down the hill to the town square (a rather steep hill I must say) I pressed the brakes at the top and felt the vehicle just keep going. I could feel the brake pedal doing a jitterbug under the toe of my shoe and realized that the vehicle was "taking care of business."

We did stop when we wanted to, you just had to kind of anticipate that event. Steady pressure on the brake pedal and ABS did the rest.

It was though, a bit sporty.

We headed back to the inn before sunset to avoid driving back in an icy rut-laden nightmare. We made it back through the accumulated slush which had yet to freeze.

I heard the town out plowing at 0300 Friday morning. "'Bout time!" grumbles I before going back to sleep.

Friday morn, we checked out of the inn, stopped off at Mom's for a brief "Hello!" before heading back to the south upon roads which were nicely bare by that time (the temperature was climbing as well).

Thirty miles south of my homeland we discovered that they'd received barely a dusting in that area, I calculated six to eight in the homeland.

First snow, ill-timed, but we survived and had a nice visit. And doggone, it was pretty, if nasty to navigate.

The Road Behind the Inn
OAFS Photo

The Wood Behind the Inn
OAFS Photo

How was your Thanksgiving?

Now it's on to retirement (in three weeks!) and Christmas in Maryland.

Time, it doth fly.

The Glory and Fall of the Commonwealth - part 1

Kraków Militia, a local guard formation in the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth during the 16th and 17th centuries
Fragment of the Rulonu polskiego
Balthasar Gebhardt, ca. 1605, gouache on parchment (PD)

In the 1500s and 1600s, if you look upon the map of Eastern Europe you notice a giant state, stretching from Baltic to almost Black Sea, and from Poznan (Posen) to Smolensk on the road to Moscow.

But by 1800s if you look upon same map, you will see that state not merely shrinking or changing borders, but disappearing entirely, as if swallowed by surrounding powers.

How did it come to pass?

Roots of the Polish-Lithuanian state emerged in late 1300s, when both countries threatened by aggressive policies of the Teutonic Order state in Prussia formed alliance, cemented by marriage of Lithuanian Grand Duke Jogaila (in Polish, known as Jagiełło) to Polish King (sic!) Jadwiga (tl;dr - Polish nobility accepted female King due to dynastic reasons).

Added bonus for the sides was Christianization of Lithuania. Lithuania gained entry into then exclusive family of european Christian nations, and deprived Teutons of their claimed reason for war, namely conversion by fire and sword. Poland gained respect as the ones who did succeed with diplomacy where Teutons failed with sword.

Results were soon visible, with the alliance dealing the Teutonic Order crippling defeat in the Battle of Grunwald aka Tannenberg in 1410. I will deal with this battle as first of the dramas little heard of, or learned today in the West.

Teutonic order fielded what by 1400s standards was top tech modern military - featuring mercenary English longbowmen, elite knight cavalry, and even some primitive canons.

Aided by extremely efficient administration by medieval standards (all posts were nominated by the Order itself, not hereditary) Order was wealthy enough to afford it, and dealt crushing blow after another to all enemies - subjugating Prussian pagans within less than century 1226-1283, taking Gdansk aka Danzig from Poland in 1308 in an act of betrayal straight out of Game of Thrones - Poles hired Teutonic knights to help fend off Brandenburgian raid, only for the Teutons to turn on their allies, slaughter Polish crew and many civilians, and take the city for themselves, and expanding into Lithuania.

Eventually, things came to decisive blows in 1409 , when Teutonic Order declared war on the alliance, hoping to crush them before they grow too powerful.

After some time of maneuvering and armistices, the armies came to blows in the heart of the Prussian domain, on fields between the villages of Grunwald and Tannenberg, hence the names for the battle.

Polish army featured mostly similarly equipped knights to the Order, with some peasant levies thrown in for good measure. Lithuanian side was mostly light cavalry, Mongol style, and even featuring some actual Mongol mercenaries.

There were even some Czech mercenaries on Polish side, led by none other than future Hussite leader Jan Žižka.

The battle was chronicled pretty accurately by contemporary historians. It seems that initially Teutons gained advantage by routing Lithuanians - or possibly failing prey to the feigned retreat. Eventually, though , Lithuanian forces that fled - or feigned flight - returned to the fray and helped encircle the Teutonic army, ending with massive defeat. Out of 200 "white cloaks", the full brothers of the order, only 70 escaped. Only the almost unconquerable castle of Malbork aka Marienburg saved the Order from total defeat.

Here are some sources:

• Battle of Grunwald (Wikipedia)
• Battle of Grunwald (Britannica)
• Battle of Grunwald (The Collector)
• Battle of Grunwald (YouTube) (Video taken from 1960 cinema epic "Knights of the Cross" based on historic novel, so take with more than a pinch of salt - but still more precise medieval warfare depiction than any todays CGI wonders ...)

Next episode: The Jagiellon dynasty, 13 years war , and establishment of electionary monarchy.

Editor's Note: I only did minimal editing of the post. Paweł's English is quite good and I wanted this to be in his words and not do some hacked up editing of my own. I'm betting most of you don't speak Polish, so don't be too critical of Paweł's English.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Freedom from Want
Norman Rockwell
(Source)

Have a wonderful holiday. Let's not forget those who can't be home this year...

Not everyone can watch football on Thanksgiving. (Source)

Or curl up with a loved one in front of the fire place. (Source)

From all of us at the Chant du Départ ...

Editor's Note: For those of you paying attention (and not zoned out on wine and tryptophan), yes, this is a rerun. I am "up north" for the holidays, we'll return to our regularly scheduled programming on Saturday. I have a "Post from Poland" for you on Friday. Our Polish correspondent, Paweł, has a bit of historical stuff on the Old Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth for your edification, entertainment, and education. There will be one more installment featuring the Sack of Rome in 1527, not sure when, no later than Tuesday I would hope. (Depends on how zoned out I am from wine and tryptophan over the weekend, I suppose.)

The Stand

The engraving shows a German soldier dressed as the pope being paraded through the streets of Rome.
In the background, fighting and pillaging ensues. In the distance, Castel Sant’Angelo and Ponte Sant’Angelo can be seen.
Mattäus Merian, “Sack of Rome,” engraving in Johann Ludwig Gottfried’s Historiche Chronica (Frankfurt 1630–34), p. 33.
Source

The entry to the piazza was filling with Landsknechts, Aloysius noticed that their flamboyant style of dress was even more noticeable at such a short distance. Many of the men who had assaulted the wall had spread through the nearby neighborhoods, seeking loot and women, the men facing them now seemed to know that the Vatican had plenty of things to steal.

"I see no muskets¹ among them." Andreas remarked.

"Thank heaven for small favors!" said Günther, the man to Aloysius' other side.

Aloysius grinned, small things to ease the terror of the moment, he thought. Then the enemy began to move towards them.

"Formation, lads! Keep together! Remember your drill!" one of the corporals yelled to the men near him.

Aloysius followed the motions of the men to either side of him, blade up, ready to block a thrust or strike an opponent down. They had drilled this many times, but never against men coming to kill them.

Captain Röist was watching the advancing Landsknechts and his own men at the same time. The advancing enemy seemed tentative, almost as if they were not expecting resistance. Röist's Guardsmen looked steady and determined.

One of the Landsknechts cried out, "Lauf, du papistischer Abschaum!²"

A Guardsman shouted back, "Komm und iss meine Klinge, du Söldnerschwein!³"

Though Röist grinned at the well-timed insult, he shouted out, "Save your breath, boys! You'll need your energy to slaughter these heretics!"

One of the Landsknechts growled and dashed forward, followed by several of his comrades, his great two-handed sword, the infamous Zweihänder, held high, ready to cut down any unwary guardsman. The man had to be either drunk or overconfident.

Aloysius felt the fear in the pit of his stomach, the man advancing towards him was huge. His sword seemed to be some mythical blade and not a real thing. But Aloysius reacted precisely how he'd been trained, he thrust his halberd forward and took the Landsknecht in the throat. His assailant dropped immediately, blood spraying like a fountain.

The Guardsmen dealt with that man's comrades in much the same way, in a few short seconds, the impetuous Landsknechts, ten of them, lay butchered on the paving stones of the piazza San Pietro.

With a roar the main body of the Landsknechts advanced on the Guards at a trot.

Aloysius saw that many of the Landsknechts carried halberds much like the one he carried. He saw no pikes, that was fortunate. Had the Germans been carrying their pikes they would have outreached the Swiss halberds. Apparently those had been discarded before going over the wall. Aloysius rather wished that they had done the same with their shorter pole arms.

Andreas' halberd flashed up before Aloysius' face as Andreas blocked a German's thrust at Günther. Aloysius stomped forward and thrust his own halberd into the German's groin.

"Back, back, step back!" the men heard their captain command.

The paving stones were growing slippery with blood, Aloysius noticed that there were dead and wounded Guardsmen down on the pavement among the slaughtered Landsknechts. By sheer weight of numbers, the Swiss were being forced back towards the basilica.

Aloysius was gasping with the effort of parrying and thrusting his halberd, his arms were growing heavy and the shaft of his weapon was slick with sweat and blood. He couldn't believe how much blood was inside a man.

Captain Caspar Röist hacked down a Landsknecht who was in the process of trying to kill a wounded Guardsman at Röist's feet. As he drew his blade back, he felt a sharp pain, almost like fire, slide across his left upper arm. He had taken the point of an enemy blade in his bicep. His arm dropped to his side.

One of his Guardsmen stepped in front of him and used the axe blade of his halberd to spilt the head of the man who had stabbed the captain.

The fighting was becoming confused as individual Landsknechts were starting to work their way in to the ranks of the Swiss formation. Röist realized that his men would have to fall back even more, they were close to the steps leading into the basilica.

"Back lads! Step back, tighten your ranks!" He bellowed at his men.

"Oh Lord, there are too many of them!" Andreas cried out as he parried an enemy thrust and followed through with a thrust of his own. His foe went down screaming, his hands pressed to his face where Andreas' point had stabbed into his eyes. More blood on the pavement.

"Back, step back, Andreas!" Aloysius yelled at his comrade.

The formation tightened and the Landsknechts fell back for a moment, almost as if to catch their collective breath before pressing the attack again. Aloysius didn't see Günther as he glanced to his left.

"Günther! Where are you?" he yelled.

"Save your breath, Junge, Günther is out there!" Andreas called out, pointing with his halberd to a pile of intermixed Swiss and German bodies.

"Captain?" Andreas asked, as he noticed that their Captain had joined them.

"Andreas, Aloysius, get inside, tell His Holiness that we cannot hold them back. He must get to Sant'Angelo, use the covered way." Röist paused and looked to his front when he heard the Landsknechts bellowing and advancing.

"Go! Tell His Holiness that I'll hold them as long as I can!"

Aloysius hesitated, then Röist shoved him at the same time as Andreas yanked him by the sleeve, "Come on, boy! Let us be off!"

Aloysius turned one last time towards the piazza, the Swiss were almost enveloped by a sea of snarling Landsknechts. Then he and Andreas went inside, towards where they were told the Pope should be.

¹ The arquebuses in use were commonly referred to as "muskets" at that time.

² Run, you papist scum! (German)

³ Come and eat my blade, mercenary pig! (German)

The Assault

La Sconfitta della cavalleria francese.
La Battaglia di Pavia¹
Bernard van Orley (PD)

Aloysius couldn't help but notice that his hands were sweating, a lot. Where he gripped his halberd was wet, not so wet as to affect his grip, but wet enough that he noticed it. It reminded him of drill, hours in the hot sun and his weapon would look soaked with moisture. But the day was cool, he and his fellow Swiss Guardsmen were lined up in the Piazza San Pietro, waiting.

Everyone knew that the assault would come soon, they could hear the first cannons booming as the Imperial Army approached. While the forces defending the city had a numerous artillery, there weren't many artillerists in the garrison.

A cannon fired nearby, from the Leonine Wall to their right. Aloysius jumped at the sound.

A plan of Rome in the Middle Ages.
The Leonine City is visible in the upper left section.
Source

Andreas reached over and placed his hand on Aloysius' right shoulder, "Easy lad, you'll get used to the sound after a while."

Aloysius looked at his comrade, "If I live long enough."

"Aye, there is that."

Pablo Alvarez noticed the Duke of Bourbon riding up to the lines. Surely the man wasn't thinking of assaulting the walls on horseback. When the Duke dismounted, Pablo turned to his friend Francisco Hernandez.

"The man's got cojones, I'll give him that."

Francisco shrugged, "Cojones and a white cloak won't get this tercio over those damned walls. Better hope those herejes malditos² take that section of wall and open that gate to us. Perhaps within the city we can maneuver."

Pablo shook his head, as if a tight formation of pikemen and arquebusiers could maneuver in the confines of a city. He hoped that when the Landsknechts broke in to the city, they would be released to loot and pillage. He was hungry, as were his comrades. Being Imperial troops they knew that they would be paid at some point, their mercenary colleagues couldn't be that sure.

The Germans were hot to sack the city, they fought for pay, not politics.

Charles III, Duke of Bourbon, handed the reins to his servant, then flung his cloak open to the troops arrayed before him. A rough cheer went up as the men recognized their popular leader.

Looking to the nearest officer, Charles shouted out, "What say you, Captain? Let us be over these cursed walls and open the gates!"

Seeing a scaling party carrying a ladder behind the captain, the Duke strode over to them and shouted again. "Let me help you lads with your burden!"

The men cheered again and started to move towards the wall. The captain bellowed in the Duke's ear, "Monsieur le duc, let my men do this, you are too valuable ..."

Charles turned to the man and said something, his words were drowned out as one of the cannons in the wall belched death towards the men moving up to the assault. But he did release his grip on the ladder so that he could draw his sword.

"Hey, Benvenuto, who's the fancy pants bastard prancing around down there?"

Benvenuto Cellini, goldsmith by trade, defender of the Faith on this day, looked where Luigi Fabrizi was pointing. The man stood out like a sore thumb waving his sword in the air, a white cloak over his armor.

"My oath, I would wager that that is the Duke of Bourbon himself!"

Cellini aimed his primitive weapon in the direction of the Duke, and pulled his trigger. The powder in the pan flashed, igniting the charge in the breech of his weapon. As the range was short and he was an expert with the arquebus, he had some hope of hitting his target. Other than being blinded by smoke, he knew the weapon had fired properly by the kick to his shoulder.

As he reloaded and the smoke cleared, he no longer saw the man in the white cloak. Where he thought the man had been, was a swirling crowd of Landsknechts.

The Duke had gone down hard, collapsing without a word, his helmet snatched off as if by the very Hand of God. The captain only needed one look to see that the Duke was gone, as was much of his face.³

Without thinking he bellowed, "The Duke has fallen! We must avenge him!"

The nearby soldiers surged forward, ignoring the slackening fire from the walls ahead. The Duke had been a very popular commander, his successor Philibert of Chalon wasn't anywhere near as well-regarded by the men. His shouts to try and gain control of the assault fell on deaf ears.

Andreas saw them first, members of the militia fleeing from their positions on the wall and disappearing into the nearby streets of the city. He turned to Aloysius.

"Brace yourself lad, it's our turn."

Aloysius didn't understand at first, then he saw them, Landsknechts.

One of the mercenaries dragged a man, presumably a man captured on the wall, into the street. He shouted something then kicked the man. One of his comrades brought his sword down on the unfortunate, severing the man's head.

"Steady lads!" Captain Röist called out. Immediately the enemy turned in their direction.

One of the men laughed and pointed to his right, where the nearest gate lay. Some of the Landsknechts went in that direction, the others drew up some distance from the Swiss, waiting.

"What are they waiting for?" Aloysius managed to gasp out.

"The rest of their unit, there are only a score of them now, soon a thousand will come through that gate."

Aloysius nodded, he said a quick prayer. He didn't want to die, but it was beginning to look like he had no say in the matter.

None at all.

¹The Defeat of the French Cavalry. The Battle of Pavia - Detail of van Orley's tapestry of the battle fought in 1525.

² Cursed heretics. Many of the German-speaking Landsknechts were indeed Protestants, or "heretics" as the Catholic Spaniards considered them to be.

³ I have no idea if Charles III was hit in the face, call it dramatic license. Also the idea that Benvenuto Cellini was the man responsible for the Duke's death has come down to us almost as legend.