The Well Has Run Dry ...

(Source)

Perhaps I've been to the well one too many times in the twelve years I've been doing this. Perhaps it's because I've been fighting the crud for two weeks now, though that situation is resolving itself. (The involvement of my right ear made the medicos think bacterial as opposed to viral, so they gave me some antibiotics - pill would choke a horse - and that seems to be doing the trick.) Slept very well over the weekend, thing is though ...

I really don't feel all that creative.

It's so bad, that I didn't even go dig out a rerun to inflict on you. That's how actively lazy and uncreative I am right now.

Sad, innit?

I'm also a bit bummed as LUSH won't be joining me to see the Foo Fighters in July up at Fenway. We had fun at the last one and she's the one who bought the tickets (a Christmas gift pour moi). But familial obligations require her to be elsewhere on the date in question.

The Missus Herself offered to accompany me, I pointed out that she doesn't really care for their music (when we're in the car I'm always being asked "Can you please turn that down?") and she wouldn't really be able to handle it for three+ hours, standing I might add. (Who sits at a rock concert anyway?)

However, The Nuke has expressed an interest in going. Now that would be fun, we've done the father-daughter thing before at big events (like Broncos - Redskins a few years back), and she does like that sort of music. Well, more so than The Missus Herself does at any rate.

So I've potentially got that going for me.

And as I've not much else to share today, here's a music video. Another Mark Knopfler tune, this one, Piper to the End, was written to the memory of his Uncle, killed in action in France, 1940. (Thanks for this Boat Guy! Who also tipped me off to Done With Bonaparte. So a tip o' the auld Balmoral bonnet to BG!)

Piper to the End

Mark Knopfler¹

When I leave this world behind me

To another I will go

And if there are no pipes in heaven

I'll be going down below

If friends in time be severed

Someday we will meet again

I'll return to leave you never

Be a piper to the end

This has been a day to die for

Now the day is almost done

Up above a quiet seabird

Turns to face the setting sun

Now the evening dove is calling

And all the hills are burning red

And before the night comes falling

Clouds are lined with golden thread

We watched the fires together

Shared our quarters for a while

Walked the dusty roads together

Came so many miles

This has been a day to die on

Now the day is almost done

Here the pipes will lay beside me

Silent will the battle drum

If friends in time be severed

Someday here we will meet again

I'll return to leave you never

Be a piper to the end

Ah, my Scot's soul is at peace ...

(Now let's see if I can't get the Muse back on track!)

¹ The lyrics are included for the Sassenachs among ye who dinnae ken Glaswegian.

Sitrep 24105 v2

 

Well, that stinks! Yesterday, I was proofing my post for today.  There was a small error in how I wanted a picture and citation to look.  Went to correct it and presto-change-o, the post disappeared.  Tried undo.  No help.  Nothing, Nada,  없음.  Suffice it to say a few bad words were uttered. 

So...that is why the v2 is in the title.

This was where the error occurred.  I'm not even sure why I had this photo in the post.  But...

Source

The picture is of  The Big Week" of the Allied Bombing Raids on Germany in WWII.  The caption I added said "No FW-190s going to be coming out of there for a while."  But there was an HTML error in the positioning of the Source link.  Tried to fix it and the Blogging Genies took offense and turned the comment to "Ain't No blog post coming out of here for a while."

So...There I was.

This is the Big Week in my little slice of Heaven for my family.  Little J will be home for a couple of weeks.  Gonna be great to see him again and while Mrs. J and I are very excited, I'm pretty sure LJW and Miss B are even more so.  

As it should be.

They'll be starting the process to move to the UK this summer.  All is on track (knock on wood) to get Miss B cleared to travel.  There doesn't appear to be any medical problem stalling the approval, more like paper work and bureaucratic slow rolling.

No, Sarge, nothings changed since we left the military.  May even be worse now.

In any case, it will be good to see them together.  I'd also like to be a fly on the wall listening to his phone call to the folks in DC handling (or mishandling) the assignment.

So,  on to a different, less blood pressure raising, subject.  I've mentioned several times about the changes going on people wise in our little town.  I'd gone to the supermarket a couple of days ago.  OT, that is my form of entertainment.  I pulled into a parking place and saw something interesting.

We've got a lot license plates from that state out west.  They're coming here in droves.  If you're one of them, could I offer a suggestion?  When in a conversation, the words "When I lived in (you know where), this is how we did this.  You should try it."  should never, ever, ever leave your lips.  As far as we're concerned, you're a refugee and while you may not have contributed to the screwed up situation, we don't want it to happen here.

Just sayin'

Back on target, juvat!

On Target, Aye, Sarge.

So, back to the license plate.  A couple of things came to mind.  1) Did Sarge drive down to check out retirement locations? 2)  Is this a refugee who's moving here?  If so, welcome.  Or is he/she an follower of the Electric Vehicle faith.  If so, they are in for a difficult education.  Texas is Big,  recharging sessions for your car will be frequent and long. 3) I also wondered how long it took them to drive down here, distance and recharge rates being factors.

But that's just me.

On the woodworking front (AKA that activity which keeps me supposedly sane), Mrs. J decided we needed another end table in one of our Casseta's.  So,  we purchased one of those put together yourself kits.  About $25 bucks, so if the guests play tackle with it, it's not that big a deal.

Went together fairly easily, doesn't wobble and puts out an very pleasant light.  So...win/win.

Took about 15 minutes to construct.  Which left me a bit more time to work on the ongoing Pikler  Triangle project.  

I'm now waiting for paint to dry and then final construction. 

 

 It'll be nice to finish as I've got several wood turning projects in my mind and the Birthday Week is coming up the first week in June.

So, got to get to work.

Peace out, y'all!

Still Under the Weather ...

Robin Olds
(Source)

Before I begin, the man above is the epitome, to me, of a fighter pilot and a combat leader. If I had to go into battle, it would be with that guy. One of the proudest periods of my life was serving in the 8th Tactical Fighter Wing at Kunsan AB, Republic of Korea. His legacy remains.

So the drugs are winning the war against the crud, but they're knocking me on my butt. I guess a lot of sleep ain't a bad thing. Just gives me not enough energy to, ya know, get off my butt and do things, like write blog posts. But as they say, this too shall pass.

So today, this Sunday the 13th of April in the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Twenty Four, I inflict a rerun upon you. But this is one of my favorites ...

First posted on 18 Feb 2016.

Leadership

George S. Patton, Jr.

What comes to mind when you hear the words "leader" or "leadership"? The image of General Patton is one of the people who spring to my mind almost immediately when I hear the words "leader" or "leadership." There are others to be sure, some of whom you'll see below. With all the political hoopla filling the air waves (I include the Web of World-Wideness in "air waves" as some folks do get their online content via satellite) I felt the need to address leadership and what it means (and has meant) to me in my military and civilian careers.

General Patton was noted for his leadership in combat, both in the First World War and the Second. He was loved, feared, and hated. One of his most famous nicknames was "Old Blood and Guts." The troops would say, "Yeah, our blood, his guts." Nevertheless he was widely admired by the men of Seventh Army in Sicily and then later in Third Army. Audacity, speed, and overwhelming fire power were his watchwords. The Emperor Napoléon would have recognized his type.

All good leaders should, if they know nothing else, remember these two Patton quotes -

A good plan violently executed right now is far better than a perfect plan executed next week. 

A pint of sweat will save a gallon of blood.

That last quote would have been recognized by Erwin Rommel and Alexander Suvorov. Outstanding combat leaders themselves.

George B. McClellan

General McClellan (or "Little Mac" as his troops called him, not to his face though) was perhaps the exact opposite of a combat general. He assiduously avoided coming to grips with Robert E. Lee's Army of Northern Virginia. He believed every single wild estimate of Confederate strength laid before him by his "intelligence" service.

However, what cannot be forgotten is that McClellan turned a conglomeration of uniformed civilians, state militias, and what few regulars the country possessed into the powerful Army of the Potomac. A force which would chase the Rebs to their eventual surrender at Appomattox. His troops adored him, though had he had any fighting spirit the war may have ended sooner. Who knows?

One of his other nicknames was "The Young Napoléon."

McClellan was a fine manager.

George A. Custer

George Armstrong Custer was the "Goat¹" of the West Point class of 1861. After graduation he was assigned to the 2nd United States Cavalry serving with the Union Army in the East. He knew the right people and he also knew how to lead cavalry.

He became a brigadier general at the age of 23. He was an aggressive cavalry commander who led from the front. Much like an earlier beau sabreur, Joachim Murat - Napoléon's favored and talented leader of horsemen, Custer liked to affect a very showy uniform style which, at first, his troopers didn't care for. Once they saw that "The Boy General" led from the front, they began copying certain elements of Custer's dress, particularly his affectation of wearing a red neckerchief. (The issue item was in cavalry yellow.)

Murat leads a charge at the Battle of Jena, 14 October 1806, by Henri Chartier (Source)

On the Great Plains he was known as "Iron Butt" and "Hard Ass" from his ability to remain in the saddle for long periods of time. (No mention of how his horse felt about that.)

Custer is best remembered though for the destruction of the units of the Seventh Cavalry under his personal command at the Little Big Horn. (He was also the regimental commander of the Seventh, parts of which survived the battle.)

His attack on that big village was perhaps foolhardy. Bear in mind though, to a cavalryman audacity is everything, he who dares wins. Murat and LaSalle would have probably done the same.

Lasalle's last charge at Wagram (1809)
Édouard Detaille (Source)

Sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you.

George E. Pickett

General George Pickett was the Goat of the West Point class of 1846. His wife wrote two books about her husband which painted him as the ideal Southern gentleman and soldier. He is best remembered as the man for whom the last, fatal, charge at Gettysburg is named.

Pickett longed to lead men in battle, he was a flamboyant leader who desperately wanted to lead men in glorious battle (a trait he shared with Patton). His chance came at Gettysburg

"Toward the Angle" by Don Troiani (Source)

McClellan thought Pickett to be one of the best infantry officers of the war. Some historians say he was a very good brigade commander but that division command was beyond his grasp. He was bitter about that day in July 1863 for the rest of his life.

He blamed Robert E. Lee for the destruction of his division.

George G. Meade

Growing up I always thought that Ulysses S. Grant had commanded the Army of the Potomac during it's fight to overcome and beat down the Army of Northern Virginia.

Nope.

That post was given to George Meade shortly before Gettysburg. President Lincoln was tired of the string of generals he had appointed up to that point. No one seemed able to take the Army of the Potomac and lead it to victory.

Meade managed to pull that feat off in his first battle in command of the Army of the Potomac. Of course, there are those who would argue that he managed to "not lose." Which is not the same as winning. But that's unfair. He managed the battle well, nothing glorious or fancy, he made sure the right people were in the right place at the right time and kept them supported.

When Grant did come East after Vicksburg to command all of the Union armies, he made his headquarters with Meade's Army of the Potomac. George Meade led that force to the end at Appomattox. While Grant's presence tended to overshadow Meade's command, it was still Meade's army which defeated Lee.

Who knows how he would have fared had Grant stayed in Washington? Hard to be lackadaisical and slow when the boss is right there all the time. Nevertheless, he did a more than competent job of leading his army. Far better than his predecessors!

George C. Marshall

George C. Marshall was a graduate of the Virginia Military Institute. A planner and organizer, Marshall never saw combat. One of the reasons that the United States doesn't have the rank of Field Marshal is because George Marshall did not wish to be known as Field Marshal Marshall. At least that's the story I heard.

While his organizational talents helped to build the largest army the United States has ever fielded and kept that army supplied and trained, he did have his critics. The replacement system he and General Leslie McNair devised (under pressure from government and business leaders, of course²) was ill advised. Rather than men going to war as members of cohesive units, replacements went overseas as individuals and were first assigned to replacement depots (the "repple-depples" of my father's memory) then were sent piecemeal to units in the field.

It took time for the new guys to get up to speed in their new units. Many were killed or wounded before their fellow soldiers even knew their names. While Marshall had wanted to have a system of complete unit rotation, he got stuck with what his bosses wanted.

In true Army fashion, they kept that system up through Vietnam. A system roundly hated and despised by all those who went through it.

Marshall is also famous for the plan which rebuilt Europe after the war. This was one veteran who made a very effective Secretary of State. He also won the Nobel Peace Prize, the only career soldier to have done so. Again, he got his prize the old fashioned way, he earned it!

George Washington, 1776 - Painted by Charles Willson Peale

First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen. So Washington was eulogized by Henry "Light Horse Harry" Lee, a fine soldier in his own right and the father of Robert E. Lee.

General Washington was quite a man. He worked the wilderness as a surveyor in his youth. He was on the disastrous Braddock Expedition during the French and Indian War, legend has it the after the wounding of General Edward Braddock, Washington took command and saved Braddock's army from total destruction.

He wove the disparate colonial elements besieging Boston into a real army. Through many trials, tribulations, and defeats, Washington held this army together. A victory here and there (such as the Battle of Trenton, think "Washington crossing the Delaware") kept the men in the ranks and gave patriots everywhere renewed faith in the glorious cause of American independence.

After his victory at Yorktown a new nation was born. General Washington could probably have had a crown for the asking, some offered him that very possibility. He turned it down of course and became our first President. He persevered, he kept the goal in mind.

Leadership takes many forms. Leaders come in all shapes and sizes. In this post I talked about famous military leaders. I've known and served under some pretty damned fine military leaders in my day. Nobody really famous, no generals. Mostly captains and majors, some commanding squadrons, some were branch chiefs. They knew their jobs, they took care of their people.

That's what it boils down to for me really, three things -

1. Know your job
2. Keep your eye on the goal (the mission if you will)
3. Take care of your people.

A good leader is also a good manager, the converse doesn't necessarily hold true. It's my experience that most "leaders" these days are not good leaders, can't manage worth a damn (well, except maybe to manage their own careers, they're usually damn good at that), and don't really care about the people in their charge, except so far as how they can be used to benefit themselves.

Well, those are my thoughts on leaders and leadership and a look at some examples of types of leaders. What are your thoughts?

¹ The Goat is the individual who graduates dead last in academic standing. Hey, they did actually graduate. No mean achievement!
² In all fairness to those government and business leaders, they were also concerned with keeping enough able bodied men at home to do necessary industrial and agricultural work.

Done With Bonaparte ...

In Gorodnya - to break through or retreat
Vasily Vereshchagin (Source)

Bit under the weather on Friday, ear infection, medical personnel consulted, drugs prescribed, taking it easy for a day or two. Gah! (As Beans might say.) I hate being ILL!

Anyhoo, one of the Chanters mentioned this song by Mark Knopfler a while back (sorry I don't remember who, I suffer from CRS.¹) I've been meaning to post it here, with the lyrics. You folks know my fascination with Napoléon Bonaparte, this song, to me, is beautiful, and haunting. I almost feel as if I had been there.

Literally makes me tear up ...

Done With Bonaparte

Mark Knopfler

We've paid in hell since Moscow burned

As Cossacks tear us piece by piece

Our dead are strewn a hundred leagues

Though death would be a sweet release

And our Grande Armée is dressed in rags

A frozen, starving, beggar band

Like rats we steal each other's scraps

Fall to fighting hand to hand

Save my soul from evil, Lord

And heal this soldier's heart

I'll trust in thee to keep me, Lord

I'm done with Bonaparte

What dreams he made for us to dream

Spanish skies, Egyptian sands

The world was ours, we marched upon

Our little Corporal's command

And I lost an eye at Austerlitz

The sabre slash yet gives me pain

My one true love awaits me still

The flower of the Aquitaine

Save my soul from evil, Lord

And heal this soldier's heart

I'll trust in thee to keep me, Lord

I'm done with Bonaparte

I pray for her who prays for me

A safe return to my belle France

We prayed these wars would end all wars

In war, we know, is no romance

And I pray our child will never see

A little Corporal again

Point toward a foreign shore

Captivate the hearts of men

Save my soul from evil, Lord

And heal this soldier's heart

I'll trust in thee to keep me, Lord

I'm done with Bonaparte

Good stuff ...

¹ Can't Remember Shite

Sur la Route¹ ...

PxHere

"How is the arm, Sir?"

The lieutenant, who had his injured arm in a sling, glared at his sergeant, "Still bloody hurts, Sarge. That whiskey tasted better than it felt."

"Did you have the regimental surgeon take a look at it?"

"Yes, it's probably why it hurts. He cleaned the wound and wasn't real gentle about it. Called me an idiot for not coming in right away."

"Did he not understand that we were a bit, ya know, busy?"

The lieutenant grinned, then a shadow crossed his face.

"I hated burying Guns out here, no marker, nothing to mark his passing. Nothing to mark his time here on earth. Did he have family?"

"No, he was an enfant de troupe². His father died on campaign when he was thirteen, he never really knew his mother, she died when he was an infant. He was in the army his whole life, knew nothing outside of it. He's on the regimental rolls, that's how he'll be remembered."

"I think we should have put up a marker ..."

"Sir, we invaded this country, if we lose, do you think the inhabitants won't desecrate his grave?"

The lieutenant shook his head, "I know, Sergeant, I know."

The colonel snapped his glass shut, shaking his head in disgust.

"Why is my brigade just sitting here, watching the enemy?"

The division commander understood his subordinate's frustration. The man's brigade had fought well, though it had been roughly handled by the enemy. How could he make the man see that there was more to war than what he could see before him?

"Because the Corps commander wishes it, Colonel. That's all you and I really need to know. While the enemy forces across the way have been drawn down to a minimum, some of them must remain to keep an eye on us. The main fight won't be here, while this road does lead to the capital, it goes through some very inhospitable terrain. Your job here is important, though it doesn't seem like it."

The colonel huffed, "I understand that, Sir, but I don't have to like it."

"No, you do not." the Corps commander said, with a certain degree of ice in his voice.

"I have plenty of battalion commanders, Colonel. Many of them will rise no further, you, on the other hand, have proven you can handle a brigade in combat. Whether or not you advance beyond that remains to be seen."

The colonel's face turned pale, "Sir? Have I not done all that is required of me?"

"You have. You are not a junior officer anymore, surely you must be able to see the bigger picture, the situation beyond your brigade?"

"It's hard, Sir, I take my boys into action, I see them suffer and die. Then we fall back, only to do it over and over again on some other field, in some other battle. Where does it end?"

"When you die, Colonel, only then."

The Corps commander looked across the way, "Ah, finally, they are pulling back their guns, all I see are a few troops of cavalry."

The colonel, feeling somewhat foolish, had to ask, "Unless you have another mission for us, Sir, I'll keep my men here until daybreak. After that, where will you want us?"

The general nodded, then turned to an aide, who handed him a map. Pointing to the map, he said, "When you are satisfied that the enemy is truly gone, march to join us here."

The colonel nodded, "As you wish, my General."

The sergeant turned and watched as another troop of cavalry joined the rear guard behind them. He was glad to be moving away from this place, they had done their jobs. Of course, the cost was too high, as it always was.

"Ah, shit," one of the men in the ranks muttered when the first drops of rain fell.

The sergeant thought to say something, then realized that the troops were going to bitch about anything and everything whether he liked it or not. Though it had been a while, he remembered when he was a private himself, he had been known throughout the regiment as a first-class complainer. Ah well, I guess we all "grow up" some day.

"Sarge?"

He turned, "What is it, Gaston?"

"Where are we going?"

A reasonable question, the sergeant thought, one for which he had no answer.

"Wherever the boss wants us to go, that's where. When he tells me, I'll let you know," he grinned as he said that.

One of the other soldiers quipped, "What? You don't know everything, Sergeant?"

"Far from it, lad, far from it. Now shut up and march. I have the feeling the boss will be making war with our legs tonight, the more distance we can cover, the happier he'll be."

Most of the men near him groaned, though they were used to this, they still didn't like it.

"Would you rather the enemy surrenders to us because we're in his rear? Eating his food, enjoying the fat of his countryside? Or would you prefer to slug it out at musket range?"

No one had an answer to that!

¹ On the road ...

² A "child of the regiment," (literally "child of the troop"). Born to a camp follower or perhaps even the wife of a soldier, raised in the army, sometimes in barracks, often in the field. Many of these boys were orphaned at an early age and became drummers or musicians in the regiments their forebears had been in. Later, when of age, they would be soldiers themselves. The army was the only life they knew.

La Tactique au Temps de Napoléon¹

Une compagnie d'infanterie légère française dans les bois.²
Victor Huen
(Source)

We interrupt the Black Powder Vignette for a short primer on Napoleonic tactics.

Seems that Beans doesn't agree with the way I have depicted the troops operating in the field over the past cuppla episodes. So to clarify how my thought process works, some background material.

On the battlefield in the time of the Emperor Napoléon, there were three main types of troop unit:

• Infantry (which comprised the bulk of most armies),
• Artillery, and
• Cavalry

Within each of those types there were subtypes, sometimes these were more of a traditional role which had gone away but the unit kept the name.

Infantry subtypes:

• Line infantry, the majority of the infantry. Guys trained to fire their muskets, maneuver as a part of a company, within a larger organization, typically the battalion which was typically made up of as few as four companies but could contain as many as ten companies.
• Light infantry, in some armies these troops received specialized training, in many it was simply a title. These guys could be deployed spread out, they tended not to fight in the bulk formations of the line (line, column, and square). They were typically organized the same as line infantry as to the number of companies per battalion.
• Grenadier infantry, these troops traditionally were chosen for their size and their strength, in "olden times" they actually threw grenades at the enemy and were very much used in storming a fortified place.
• To make things even more confusing, line infantry battalions often contained one grenadier company and one light company, the other companies being line infantry.

Artillery subtypes:

• Field artillery, these were cannon which could be maneuvered in battle
• Siege artillery, very heavy cannon which typically once emplaced weren't moved. As the name implies, these cannon were used in sieges, battering down walls and buildings and generally convincing the besieged to surrender rather than endure the pounding.

Cavalry subtypes:

• Light cavalry, men on light horses noted for their mobility and speed. Typically used in scouting and screening, they could be used in battle.
• Dragoons, a hybrid unit, these guys were trained (theoretically) to fight on foot and on horseback. They were used for scouting and screening and on the battlefield.
• Heavy cavalry, big men on big horses. In many armies these guys still wore armor, helmet and cuirass (a back- and breastplate affair, though in the Austrian army they only wore a breastplate, which sucked if you were retreating. Which the Austrians did a lot against the French.) These were considered an army's premier shock troops. When the enemy started to waver, you sent in the heavies to break them.

Now I could go on and on (and believe me, I would, I love this topic) but I have written posts on this before. So rather than blather on, I give you a piece first published in October of 2017.

Scissors, Rock, Paper

Friedland - Jean-Louis Ernest Meissonier
(Source)

The other day I mentioned in a comment that I was feeling the need to do a post about cavalry, men at war on horseback. But first I needed to check to see if I'd ever done a post specifically about cavalry. (At my age I tend to tell a story multiple times. Sometimes to the same audience. It's not that I don't know more stories, it's just that I'm not sure who I've told the stories to. Sigh...)

Seems I've done more than one post that dealt specifically with cavalry - here, here, and here. (You should go read them, I thought they were pretty good. Of course, YMMV.) So I thought I'd take a different tack with this post, which includes cavalry, naturellement.

You might be wondering about the title of today's post. "Scissors rock paper", a game known to most of us (I presume) and which is popular in other cultures as well. Imagine my surprise when my wife and her friends played this back when we were young. In Korean it's called 가위 바위 보. (Roughly ka-ee, ba-ee, bo.) Imagine my surprise last night when I looked that up to confirm the spelling (in Korean, my Korean is very rusty) and noted that here in the west the game is "rock paper scissors," because of the Korean connection, I've always referred to the game by the Korean order, which is "scissors rock paper." (I don't think the Chuck Norris option is available in Korea.)

Just in case you didn't get the reference above...

But yes, I digress, we're here to talk about the similarity of Napoleonic tactics to the old "rock scissors paper" game. (I read that somewhere and it has some truth to it.)

We know the game, "paper covers rock," which wins, "rock smashes scissors," which wins, and finally, "scissors cut paper," which wins. Three basic elements, each has its strength, each has its weakness.

The three basic combat arms on the Napoleonic battlefield were the infantry, the cavalry, and the artillery. Each had its strengths, each had its weaknesses. Balancing the three arms in battle was the task of the commander.

The Infantry
(Source)

The most numerous arm was the infantry. For the most part these men were equipped with a smoothbore, black powder, flintlock musket. Firing a lead ball over a half-inch in diameter (actual caliber varied from army to army) these weapons were wildly inaccurate at anything over fifty yards if you were actually aiming at something. So the infantry stood shoulder to shoulder and fired volleys at the enemy. When a hundred muskets are fired (all at once) in your general direction, someone or something is going to get hit. These weapons caused devastating wounds.

As the infantry was the most numerous, and was really the key to winning a battle, we'll primarily look at them. The infantry was very powerful. They formed upon the battlefield in three basic formations at the battalion level (think 400 to roughly a thousand men, grouped in four to ten companies, all depending on which army you are talking about).

For moving around the battlefield, battalions would be in column, usually one company across with the other companies stacked behind them, with enough room between companies to enable them to deploy into the other formations.

Column of companies
(French Shown)

This formation was very useful for movement on the field. The problem was that these big formations were very nice targets for these guys -

The Artillery
(Source)

Artillery was effective out to 1200 yards, for the larger guns. They were grouped in batteries of four to twelve pieces (as the individual cannon are known) and fired two basic types of ammunition: round shot (big metal ball) and canister (smaller metal balls backed in a tin).

Cannon were classified by the weight of their shot, typically four to twelve pounds. Believe me, you did not want to get hit by one of those things. Solid shot was used at the longer ranges, if the enemy got too close the gunners would switch to canister. The effect of which was a giant shotgun. Though short ranged they could tear an enemy formation to red rags in a hurry.

So the infantry needed to get across the field with some quickness, all the while being pounded by cannon fire. You'd think it might be impossible to survive, but most did. The real nastiness didn't start until you got close to the enemy, standing and waiting for you with loaded muskets. Typically deployed in line -

Standard three deep line.
Again, the French are depicted.
And yes it's a small drawing, otherwise it would stretch right across the page and beyond!

The Continental armies (France, Spain, Prussia, Austria, etc.) typically deployed in three-deep line, the British preferred two-deep, some sources say because it made all of the muskets effective in the battalion, some sources say it was so the usually smaller British armies could cover more ground. (I prefer the former theory.) It is true that in three-deep line the guys in that third line were more of a danger to their comrades in front of them than the enemy!

Okay, so you've made it across the field, leaving your path strewn with dead and wounded, now the preferred tactic before coming into musket range of your enemy was to deploy from column into line, thus maximizing your firepower. But while doing that, these guys might show up -

The Cavalry
(Source)

If you spotted them in time, you would want your battalion deployed in square -

Square formation, this is far more tidy here than on the field.
Often it looked more like a rectangle.
Again, it's a French battalion.

The first (outward) rank is kneeling, musket butt firmly on the ground held in place with a foot, bayonets forming a steel hedge around the formation. No, horses don't like steel hedges. The cavalry couldn't force their horses into the square, and it was tough to reach the guys in the square with your sword. The two ranks behind the kneeling rank would be trying to shoot the horsemen down.

Now if the cavalry fell back to regroup because they couldn't break the square, then the infantry were again exposed to cannon fire. And a square is a nice big juicy target. One ball can kill or maim as many as six men at a time. (Hit one face of the square, taking out three guys, then hit the backside of the square, taking out three more guys. No, hitting a human or two won't stop that metal ball. Might slow it down a bit, after taking out say ten men?)

So what do you do now battalion commander? Your square is getting chopped up by the cannon, if you don't do something, this could happen -

Cavalry cutting infantry to red ribbons.
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Well, if your commander planned things right, you don't have to worry about the enemy's cavalry because you brought your own along to counter-charge theirs. Then while the horsemen dash about swinging their swords at each other. You might deploy into line, the French would often stay in column and charge with the bayonet. Which was a long steel spike attached to the end of the infantry musket. You did not want to get stabbed with one of those.

It seldom came to crossing bayonets. One side or the other would say "fire truck" this and retreat. Usually the attacker had to launch multiple assaults in order to find a weakness in the other side's deployment. Sometimes there weren't enough cannon in a sector, sometimes a gap developed which the cavalry could charge through and start sabering the "in the rear with the gear" types.

Armies who let the enemy get behind them always got nervous and usually lost.

A very bloody game of "rock scissors paper" though obviously more complex.

Infantry who were tired or who had suffered under cannon fire might just throw down their muskets and run away. While that might seem like a good idea, cavalrymen liked nothing better than sabering fleeing infantry.

Really good infantry would stand their ground regardless of losses. You almost had to push them over after shooting them. There were infantry units in the Napoleonic Wars who would continue to fight against all odds.

Some would run away at the first shot.

It was all about getting the right troops, in the right formation, at the right time, in the right place which won battles. Sometimes all it took was a single cavalry squadron showing up in the rear and panicking the reserves which could make an entire army flee.

Sometimes the two sides would pound each other all day with no apparent result. One side might slip away in the night to fight another day, sometimes a battle would last into a second or even a third day, though that was very rare.

Once the battle was won, and perhaps even the war, then for the lucky ones it was back to home and hearth.

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War is never as pretty as the paintings make it seem.

Yes, I left out a lot of things, howitzers, rifles, rockets, lions, and tigers, and bears. Oh my.

Original post is here.

So that's my frame of reference for the Black Powder Vignette. Troops were never on their own, they were always in close proximity to their company (troop for cavalry). one or two men would NOT, repeat NOT be sent off on their own into the woods. Light troops ALWAYS operated in pairs as a minimum.

In some armies there was a very real possibility that men sent off on their own would never be seen again. Desertion being a problem in armies where men were conscripted or were drawn from the less productive members of society.

Hope that clarifies things a bit.

For more, read Part One and Part Two of another series I wrote in 2022, oddly enough in October, hhmm, what is it about October and Napoleonic tactics?

¹ Tactics in the time of Napoléon.

² A company of French light infantry in a forest.

Out of the Forest

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The armorer and the men given to him came to the edge of the wood, to their right, quite a ways off, they could see cannon firing.

"Ours?" one of the men asked.

"Yes, those are our boys. Question is, where are those fellows meant to flank us?"

"Guns, there are men out there in the long grass, hunkered down. D'ya see 'em?"

"Where away, boyo?"

The private pointed, trying not to be too obvious about it. Though they were back in the trees, anyone out in the field looking in the right direction might notice the movement of a man's arm.

"Right lad, I see 'em. Looks like the enemy flankers are stuck in the open. Probably afraid to attract attention from our batteries."

"What if we open fire on 'em, Guns?"

"There's only six of us lad, what if those bastards figure that out and rush us?"

"Then our artillery might see them and ..."

"Yeah, they 'might' see 'em." One of the other soldiers chimed in.

"We'll sit tight for now. They're not a threat at the moment."

"We can't stay here forever, Cap'n." The light infantry sergeant sounded concerned, with good reason.

The company commander said nothing. When the artillery had started firing, not at them but at their supports, he had ordered his company to ground. The grass was very long here, which provided good concealment from the artillery, but no protection.

Part of him wanted to order his troops into the nearby tree line, but that was a good 200 paces away. Moving would attract undue attention, especially as it seemed the enemy artillery were unopposed. He'd noticed no counter-battery fire nor any attempt by his own army to silence those guns. What the hell was going on back there?

"We can stay here as long as no one notices us, Sergeant. We move, I don't like the odds."

The sergeant was silent, he didn't like being pinned down, but he didn't like being under cannon fire either. For now he'd bear it.

The armorer turned as he heard men moving up behind him, it was the lieutenant and the rest of the company.

"Good to see you, Sir. What's the word?"

"The rest of the division is up, but the army commander has ordered us to hold in place. He doesn't want to bring on a general engagement at this time."

Behind the lieutenant, the armorer saw the sergeant shrug, as if to say, I don't like it either.

"Well Sir, what about those fellows out there?"

"Colonel says drive 'em off."

Turning to look at the company, he could see that the men had all taken up firing positions near the edge of the wood.

"Sergeant."

"Prepare to fire!" The sergeant bellowed in order for all of the men to hear him. "FIRE!"

"Damn it, Sir, we're spotted ..." The rest of the armorer's comment was lost in the blast of musket fire.

The men in the field weren't in any immediate danger, most of them remained unseen, the enemy in the woods were firing at where they thought the enemy was. But one or two balls managed to find a body.

A second volley managed to hit no one, but the threat was there, and the men in the field felt their luck running out.

"Let's get outta here fellas!" One man sprang to his feet and began to run, a ragged volley threw him down into the tall grass, but it had been enough. What was left of the light company began to run.

"Let's get at 'em boys!" One of the men in the woods shouted as he jumped to his feet. In the next instant he was on his butt rubbing his jaw.

"None of that shite, stand and keep firing!"

The sergeant had been stunned to see the lieutenant punch the soldier in the mouth when the  fellow had jumped up and had tried to lead a charge. If the young'un stayed alive, he'd make a great commander some day.

The sergeant got up and began pacing the line, controlling the men's volleys. "Damn that eagerness, Hartschank, load and fire, load and fire. Obey your training boy!"

Eventually the survivors of the enemy light company, much reduced, were out of range.

"Cease fire!" the lieutenant commanded.

As the sergeant turned, he wondered if anyone had been hit, the enemy, though panicked, still had a few men who had calmly halted and returned fire during the retreat. He looked around, things looked good, everyone seemed ...

Damn.

Huddled next to a tree was the armorer, his hands trying to hold his guts in. He was alive but something in his eyes told the sergeant that the man knew his time on this earth was over.

He knelt down next to the armorer, "Guns, we'll get a surgeon up here ... Hang on ..."

Reaching one bloody hand out, the armorer grabbed the sergeant's sleeve. "Nah, Sarge, I'm a goner, damned ball tore off a sliver from yon tree and drove it into my belly. Gutted like a fish I am. I ..."

"Don't talk, Guns, let me ..."

"In my vest pocket is my flask, some damn fine whiskey in it. Take it and use some of it to clean the lieutenant's wound, it's a bit worse than the boy would admit to. Then you two can drink to my memory, it's been a fine time, Sarge, a fine time."

The armorer stopped talking for a moment, the sergeant thought the man had slipped away, but no.

"Sarge?"

"Yeah, Guns."

"Bury me right here, would ya? 'Tis a lovely spot. A fellow could do worse ..."

"Guns?"

The man was gone.

"Nice job, Colonel."

The colonel commanding the shattered lead brigade looked up at his division commander. The general looked very regal in the light of a spring day.

"Sir? My brigade is ruined, my light company has 60% casualties and my line brigades have been badly handled by yon artillery. How is that a 'nice job'? Sir."

"There's an entire corps over there, your boys made them deploy and gave us time to come up. They may be pushing down other roads into our country, but not this one."

"So it's a full on invasion, Sir?"

"They declared war late last night, so yes, it's a full on invasion."

The colonel looked across the field towards where his brigade had met the enemy. "Lot of my boys are still out there, Sir."

The general looked sternly at the colonel, "Don't dwell on it, Colonel. It will drive you mad." Then he spurred his horse and rode off, trailed by his staff.

"Let's get you something to eat, Colonel."

He turned on his heel, and there was his sergeant major, his uniform torn and filthy, his cap missing, but still alive.

"You're still alive Sarn't Major ..."

"Aye Sir, don't sound so surprised, ye'll not be rid of me that easy."