30 September 2012

General von Tschatschke's Orders for Turn Seven. . .

General von Tschatschke issuing orders to his generals and other key officers at Neu Sittangbad, 17. February, 1772.

"Let's get down to brass tacks and issue our respective orders for the next turn, old lawn ornament," suggested General von Tschatschke to his his ailing guest, who lay motionless on the chaise with golden dragonflies embroidered onto its maroon damask upholstery in their hundreds.  

"I say de Latte," he observed, "you're looking about as verdant as that over-sized atlas on my desk over there, old garden gnome.  You know.  The one with the green Morocco leather binding."  From his position on the chaise, de Latte replied with a faint groan and, without comment, adjusted the folded handkerchief that was shading his eyes.

"De Latte!"  exclaimed von Tschatschke.  His guest did not stir.  "Very well then," he said with resignation, "I'll issue my orders first, and then we can see about yours later."  A second moan came from the direction of the chaise in the corner of the drawing room.

"Was that a yes, old sundial?" asked von Tschatschke.  Another moan from the chaise.  "Fine then," said von Tschatschke with growing impatience.  "Though it beats me what those chambermaids see in you!"  From the chaise in the corner came a third moan.

"Rii-ight!" said General von Tschatschke curtly.  "Your behavior is frightfully dramatic, old maze.  Frightfully dramatic!"  From the chaise, a strange silence.  Von Tschatschke waited a moment in anticipation of another sound from his comatose guest -- a grunt, a groan, something -- before he continued.  "Here are my immediate orders, then, for Turn Seven, old reflection pool."

1) Those blasted four artillery crew and their no good mounted C.O., who abandoned their gun a few turns back will return to it, take up their positions, and, along the second gun in my battery, fire on your von Flickenehoffer Fusiliers, who are 31"-32" to their front at the moment.

2) My Leib (Grand Duchess Sonja's Own) Grenadiers and my single company of the Wolmar-Bock Regiment, behind earthworks just to their left, will unleash volleys of musketry on any of your troops who advance closer than 12".

3) The Jaeger zu Fuss cut off in Eisepicke Village, will continue picking off your Electoral Pioneers, the closest of whom are just 3" distant.

4) My 2nd (Von Laurenz) Musketeers and  the second company of my  engineer battalion, which has been stationed behind earthworks on the northern edge of Neu Sittangbad, will continue their withdrawal from the town and cross the river as soon as possible.

5) At the end of the turn, after we've determined all artillery and musketry fire, let's not forget to resolve the melee that has resulted from the charge of my Anspach-Beyreuth Cuirassiers on your limbered guns and the flank of your Ermland Garde.

General von Tschatschke finished outlining his plans for the coming move and looked expectantly in the direction of his guest on the chaise.  He waited for a minute or two before speaking.

"I say, de Latte?  Did you get any of that, old decorative fountain?"  From the chaise came a weak voice.

"I say, von Tschatschke?" said de Latte with great effort.  "Be so good as to stop the room from rolling and pitching.  Oh, and please ring for a few stale digestive biscuits with some flat seltzer water from the kitchen.  I'm not quite right, you know."

"That's something of an understatement if ever I've heard one, old gazebo," answered General von Tschatschke in utter disbelief.  His guest paused for a moment, rubbed his left temple gingerly with the fingers on his left hand, and spoke again.

"And von Tschatschke?  Do ask those dragonflies to stop beating their wings so loudly," requested General de Latte, "I have an absolutely splitting headache!"

1 comment:

Bluebear Jeff said...

Sadly I can remember once (way back in college) being so drunk that, lying on the floor, I was afraid of falling off it. The feeling was not a fun one and it pretty much put an end to my drinking . . . so be a good man, Stokes, and stifle those dragonfly wings for the poor man, eh?

-- Jeff


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