Here is a sketch map from Greg, er, General de Latte of the battlefield, indicating where certain units for Zichenau and Stollen have been ordered respectively.
As the sun rises higher in the sky and the morning mist begins to clear, orders are written and dispatched by the generals at their respective ends of the Sittangtal (Sittang Valley). Very briefly, they look like this:
General von Tschatschke:
1) Order my Jaeger zu Fuss to retreat from the village of Eispicke and make hell-for-leather back to the hill and marsh on the (right) side of the table.
2) I will also order my artillery battery to limber up and reposition itself on that same hill as soon as possible.
3) Withdraw half of my cavalry a full move to the south of the marsh and the other half to the left of Neu Sittangbad to guard my flanks.
4) Finally, I am ordering my two regiments of infantry to march out of town and converge to form a single line of infantry midfield just to the north of the improvised field works.
General de Latte:
1) The Mittau infantry shall make for that same hill as your Jaegers and Artillery. If they find it occupied, they are to clear it of the enemy.
2) The 11th Hussars shall circle North around the village of Eispicke and attempt to intercept the Jaegers.
3) O'Malley's shall move with all dispatch to occupy the Sittangwald, lining it's Western Fringe with the aim of harassing that of your cavalry regiments which is attempting to cover your left flank.
4) In the unlikely event, my artillery will fire on targets of opportunity.
And so, the last of the campfires extinguished, the Zichenauer and Stollenain sergeants spit, curse, and drub their less cooperative charges into something resembling infantry lines. The cavalry units mount up while their snorting horses fill the air with puffs of steam. And the fortunate gunners warm their frozen hands over fires they have managed to keep going where their guns are deployed and wait. To the sounds of drums and trumpets, then, the respective armies creak into action on this cold February morning. And from amid his coterie of officers, the watching General Phillipe de Latte is heard to exclaim loudly, "Ah, black powder. . . I love the smell of black powder in the morning!"