Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta fall of friedland. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta fall of friedland. Mostrar todas las entradas

miércoles, 18 de diciembre de 2013

THE NAIVE YOUNG LIEUTENANT AND THE OLDER, SENSIBLE SERGEANT

Here's another commonplace that you surely recognize.

It's as old as the existance of professional armies itself: in the olden days, aristocratic teenagers were made lieutenants, while their sergeants were (either years or decades) older peasant veterans.
(Though Gustavus Adolphus made commoners who had showed their prowess on the battlefield officers and knighted them, actually!)

In Shakespeare's 1604 tragedy Othello, the first literary occurrence of this commonplace in fiction, Cassio is the naive young lieutenant, while Iago is the older and sensible sergeant... who resents not having been given an officer's commission. To Iago, Cassio appears as "a fellow almost damned in a fair life, who never set a squadron on the battlefield, nor the division of a battle knows [···] except the theory in books. Mere prattle without practice"... while the noncom states about himself that "the General's eyes have seen the proof (of Iago's prowess) on many battlegrounds, Christian and non-Christian".
Iago puts practice before theory, the scarred veteran before the learned and blue-blooded greenhorn. One of the many hypotheses for Iago's motivation is simply that he resents not having been made an officer in spite of his prowess and experience.

In the Verdian Othello opera, that premiered in the 1880s, dapper young lyricist Arrigo Boito has his awesome Iago tell crony Rod(e)rigo "the reason for his wrath" in a rather ominous tune:
"That puffed-up lieutenant
has usurped my position... my position,
which, by one hundred well-fought battles,
I have deserved!
Such was Othello's wish...
And I stay at His Moorish Lordship's service
as noncom!"

From Shakespeare's seventeenth century to our days, and even after the instauration of the French Revolution's equal-opportunity officer class, little has been done to subvert the commonplace... except by Terry Pratchett (in Monstrous Regiment, a superb travesty that does to military fiction what Monty Python's Holy Grail has done to Arthurian legends), and by the author of this blog. In The Ringstetten Saga (Arc I), Gerhard may be the posh dapper young lieutenant (he gets this rank at 16, after fighting at Breitenfeld) and Alois may be the (three years) older, realistic sergeant... but there are interesting subversions (as interesting as Pratchett's treatment of Lt. Blouse and Sgt. Jackrum): on one hand, Gerhard is not ashamed of getting his hands dirty, he drinks hard, and he complements this addiction with the rather feminine (though enforced in the Swedish ranks) hobby of lace making; while Alois was a high-ranking blue-blooded Leaguesman from the start (taken prisoner at Breitenfeld), he tends to do whatever Gerhard says without a complaint, and look at what Alois did when Lady Wallenstein and her daughter were left to die at Friedland, with the uprising, the Catholic invasion and all... he saved them from the flames, rather than leaving or harassing them!
Needless to say that The Ringstetten Saga (Arc I) takes place in the 1630s-1650s, some decades after Othello's premiere!

miércoles, 6 de noviembre de 2013

THE RINGSTETTEN SAGA IX: MUTINY AND MAYHEM

Previously on the Ringstetten Saga:
Alois happens to have made friends with Thekla, though merely like siblings... but they must keep the distances, for His Lordship, drunk on success as he is, is rather protective of his wife's faithfulness and of his daughter's innocence. Thekla is courted by many suitors, three of which are actually a fifth column sent by the Kaiser from Vienna to watch the Duke of Friedland and inform the central government of his moves (though the would-be in-laws are unaware of the youths' agenda). Alois gets promoted to generalissimo's aide-de-camp's ensign, having to share entourage with Ladies Neubrunn and Brandeiss. He also gets to admire Wallenstein, and to learn of the duke's plans to team up with the Swedish regency for overthrowing the German Empire with a meticulously planned coup d'état!
Winter changes to spring, and both armies take to the field. But Sweden has lost power since the King's untimely death: the Regent reveals himself as a much worse leader, and a long and bloody losing streak ensues. Gerhard and Liselotte marry in the woods in spring, while more officers defect to Wallenstein's army following each lost confrontation...
To Gerhard, these defectors who trade their loyalty for lucre appear as turncoat traitors. He consequently snaps and kickstarts a mutiny in the ranks under the influence, right before he could be rewarded with a promotion to Rittmeister (cavalry captain), and they are subsequently expelled from the Swedish ranks: Gerhard (still a lieutenant), his wife and sister, and the few loyal to him (including Natasha, whose twin children have just died of the scarlet fever... and Volker, Horst having fallen at Lützen). 
He has also seen Alois wearing the scarlet coat as a Wallensteinian ensign (for the Croatian has risen to such a high rank) on the battlefield, yet distanced from the frontline due to his status as an aide.
After faking their deaths to avoid certain execution by firing squad, they become a band of outcast highwaymen that scour battlefields and ruins to survive. They get to fight other bands of similar criminals, that compete against them. The young blond in charge of our ragtag team (he has been an officer, alright?) defeats the leaders of other bands with Gustavus's battle-cry "Gott mit uns!" on his lips. But the young Prussian has also become a harsher and bloodthirstier leader than before, corporally punishing his followers (except Liselotte and Hedwig) if they dare contradict him... while within, the guilt for Gustavus's death tears at his broken heart.
In winter, Gerhard and Liselotte catch fish, trap hares, hunt crows with slingshots, and melt snow in a kettle to drink. Natasha dies while trying to protect her leader from a falling ice stalactite in a cave, getting impaled and asking the lieutenant to drink her blood if he can't wait until the snow-water du jour has cooled. It is disgusting, but Gerhard has no other choice. The bloodless carcass is subsequently used as bait for catching more crows and fish.
During later winters, however, these marauders will be able to procure strong drink and overindulge in it during their revels.
Meanwhile the same winter, in December 1633, during the Wallensteins' extravagant and outrageous Christmas revels, the Catholics lay siege to Friedland,  threatening to burn the chateau to the ground if the traitor Wallenstein does not surrender. The beleaguered duke flees abroad with his closest generals and officers, leaving the rest of the shire's residents, his wife and daughter among them, at the mercy of the Kaiser's men and their blazing flames. To make things worse, the garrison rises up in arms and sides with the Kaiser...
Luckily, Alois, who has regained his memories and witnessed a similar scene during the storming of Magdeburg (he couldn't save that seamstress and her daughter), conducts a daring plan to leave a burning Schloss Friedland with Isa and Thekla in tow, as the whole province is left to the mercy of the Kaiser's ranks. He succeeds, but they are captured by the Kaiser's men in the woods three days later, and all three are subsequently sent to a watchtower dungeon somewhere in the southern Rhineland. 
There, the lady and her daughter, broken down by excruciating torture on the rack, fall ill with high fever. Alois, the girl, and her mother survive, standing strong in face of privation. They manage to have the commandant send a letter of pardon, written by the maiden, to the Kaiser.
Then, weeks or maybe months later, Isabella and Thekla are surprisingly set free by order of the Kaiser himself, and they leave for a little chateau near Friedland, a gift from His Imperial Majesty (quite a consolation prize, after losing their father and husband).  
And then, winter changes into spring...
One day in the late spring of 1635, the prisoners suddenly hear loud and clear cannon shots: the Swedes are besieging their prison!
In the nearby woods, a familiar rag-tag band of ravenfolk, dwindled to three people (a blond young man and two girls) are waiting for the outcome of this confrontation. Guess their names!