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Chapter 53

Library of the Collegium Academicum

Gyulafehérvár


Some of his closest advisors had recommended that he commandeer the Princely Palace as his headquarters, but Morris refused. “That’s not a smart move, gentlemen,” he said, pushing back. “Seize Rákóczi’s home right after he dies? Nope. Let’s come up with another option, shall we?”

So, it was decided that the best option, for now, was a tent overlooking the center of the battlefield, but it would not be fully operational until tomorrow. For tonight, then, the library of the Collegium Academicum would have to do.

Guards were placed outside each door. There were no guards inside, lest one of them be a spy and convey the details of the conversation to the opposition. The only people allowed in the room were those directly involved in the impending battle. That included all generals, regimental commanders, and one personal aide each, if needed. Morris had invited Ellie Anderson, for it would be necessary for her and Len to have full understanding of the plan as they helped facilitate communication between the key areas of the battlefield. Eddie Junker was also included since his Dvorak pilots would be in the air for most of the operation. Everyone in attendance was sworn to secrecy. Morris finished his introductory comments with a call to prayer.

“After the meeting, gentlemen, I’d like the Sunrise priests and rabbis to conduct—what you might call—an ecumenical, multidenominational, prayer. I think everyone in this room could use a little spiritual support on the eve of battle, don’t you think?”

No argument for that, including General Hatmanu, whose facial expressions through Morris’ preamble suggested he’d rather be anywhere than in a room taking dictation from a Jewish general, or anyone else for that matter.

“And now, gentlemen,” he said as Generals Renz and Higgins rolled out the battlefield map and secured its corners. “The plan.”

He and Jeff Higgins laid it out, much in the same manner as they had earlier to Generals von Mercy and Renz, but with the inevitable interruption from pretty much everyone in the room.

“I’ll allow Generals von Mercy and Renz to discuss troop deployment,” Morris said, stepping back from the table and giving them the floor. “Gentlemen?”

Von Mercy paid deference to Renz, who stepped up to the map. The newly appointed field commander sighed deeply, scratched his thick, graying hair and beard, then began.

He pointed to the southern third of the map. “The Joshua Corps will deploy south to meet the Wallachian army as it moves against the capital. South and center, more accurately, for if they break through and begin to move to the center of the field to link arms with the Moldavians, which is possible, we’ll need the flexibility to adjust. Colonels Shalit, Schiff, and Zelikovich—do you understand what I’m saying?”

The colonels looked at each other, nodded. Colonel Shalit answered for them all. “Yes, General. We understand.”

Morris could see Shalit’s dissatisfaction with the plan. He was the biggest proponent for the strategy of setting up rings of defense around the capital and then waiting for the enemy to attack. But that suggestion had been discussed ad infinitum and would not be considered any further.

“In addition,” General Renz continued, “First Cavalry will serve with the Joshua Corps, providing flanker support as needed. Colonel Burkenfeld, I want you to meet cavalry with cavalry. Reports tell us that the Wallachians have a lot of Serbian horses on their side. You keep those bastards contained, you hear?”

Colonel Burkenfeld nodded. “Yes, sir. We will.”

Morris could see Burkenfeld’s jaw muscles working a mile a minute. He was clearly upset that von Mercy had given field command to Renz. Morris just hoped that during battle, this mercenary colonel with a bruised ego wouldn’t change his mind, tuck tail and run, or switch sides. Bonus ducats had been given to all commanders to help incentivize their duty to the Sunrise. Morris hoped it was enough.

“Captain Lazlo Guth,” General Renz said, turning his attention to the center of the battlefield, “we would like your Hajdus to take the center and hold against any incursions therein. Both enemy forces are, by our estimation, of equal distance from the center. Their armies may move together, or one at a time. Either way, these stone walls here, here, and here, will provide your men adequate shooting positions in case either force reaches the center.”

Captain Guth nodded. He leaned over the map and ran his hand across the area that Renz had designated. “I understand, General. Are we to be the only force protecting the center?”

General Renz shook his head. “No, sir. A regiment from the Zizka Brigade will follow you in.” He turned to Colonel Makovec. “Colonel, you decide which regiment to deploy, and hold your other two in reserve with your APCs.”

The Brethren commander nodded. “Yes, General.”

“Now, our remaining mercenary infantry, comprised of Hungarians, Italians, Silesians, Scots, and Bohemian companies not affiliated with the Brethren, have decided to allow General von Mercy to be their overall commander.”

“Yes,” von Mercy said, wheeling his chair forward to get a better look at the map. He leaned up with a wince of pain and pointed to the northern segment of the map, where, at present, the Moldavians were moving to engage Brigadier Higgins’ Silesian Guard. “Our original idea was to have these five free companies—designated as Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, Golf, and Hotel—shift as needed, from the center to the north. However, given the Moldavians’ stronger and faster push across the Maros than anticipated, they will be deployed in full to the north.”

“You are putting unwieldy mercenaries,” General Hatmanu said, interrupting, “alongside my trabants, with no field commander in overall charge of their disposition. Why?” He pointed at Jeff Higgins. “You have already put a Silesian regiment into my lines. Aren’t they enough?”

“My regiment will withdraw from your lines, General,” Jeff said, “as soon as you return to your men. These free companies will be put in their place. They are of equivalent size and strength.”

“Really?” General Hatmanu let his voice rise in pitch and a broad smile cross his face. “It was my understanding that your Silesians, Brigadier, were some of the finest soldiers in Europe. Surely a ragtag bunch of fight-for-hire ruffians cannot match your—”

“The Silesian Guard will be held in reserve,” General Roth said, jumping to ensure that Higgins and Hatmanu’s growing argument didn’t come to blows. “Like Colonel Makovec’s APC’s, they will be moved to wherever, and whenever, they are needed.”

General Renz laid out the plan in full for the Silesian Guard and the Brethren APCs. As he spoke, Morris measured the temperature of the room.

Some in attendance seemed to agree with the plan; others did not. He could almost hear what the detractors were thinking: Why hold such powerful forces in reserve? Why not move them into the field immediately? Good questions, he had to admit.

As far as the APCs went, they were new and not battle tested, not like this anyway. They had survived Impaler attempts at sabotage along the march, but even Colonel Makovec was hesitant to overcommit them to one place on the field. Hold them in reserve, he had recommended, and then move them to where they might have an immediate impact, as opposed to committing them to a defensive position that the enemy could simply avoid. The Wallachians and Moldavians surely understood the history of the deployment of Hussite war wagons just as much as anyone else. The current battle line was a wide front, several miles, so it was best not to deploy them, then have to redeploy them, then redeploy them again. Wait until the enemy had committed to a move, and then hit them hard with a powerful line of APCs.

For the Silesians, their best use was for pinpoint strikes, especially the Hangman Regiment. Use them as shock troopers in places where an overrun was imminent. Morris imagined that the most likely form of overrun was the Ottoman fire tanks. The thought of them made Morris’ skin crawl.

“Now,” General Renz said, “getting back to the northern segment. Second Cavalry will join General Hatmanu and the free companies. Colonel Callenberk, your responsibilities will be similar to First Cavalry: keep the infantry secure and well supported. It’s also important that you help maintain the integrity of the airfield.”

“It’s my understanding,” Eddie Junker said, raising his hand, “that some Saxon companies, fleeing the enemy’s approach, will oversee its security?”

Morris nodded. “Yes, under Major General Lange’s command. About six hundred men, give or take.”

“It might be more prudent to put them into the field, General,” Hatmanu said, “alongside my men. They would be tough fighters against an army that has destroyed their homes.”

Morris nodded. “Agreed, but if the airfield is overrun, and the communication tower destroyed, we’ll be in serious danger, General. That would give the Moldavians access to the capital. The airfield must be protected.”

“It will be protected, General Roth,” Major General Lange said, “by Princess Lorántffy’s request that all Saxon forces and any Székely forces not under General Hatmanu’s direct command be empowered to defend the streets of the capital, Gyulafehérvár will be secure by morning. I personally guarantee that, sir.”

There were no guarantees in war, Morris knew, but he took Lange’s assurances with a polite nod and then allowed General Renz to conclude.

“Finally, artillery deployments. Battery A will be assigned to General Hatmanu. Battery B to Captain Guth. Batteries C and D to the Joshua Corps. The Zizka Brigade and the Silesian Guard will be responsible for their own guns.”

Batteries A, B, and C were normal field cannons. Battery D comprised six mortars. It was unclear exactly which part of the field might need them the most, but Colonel Shalit had specifically requested that they be assigned to his regiment.

“That is all, gentlemen,” General Renz said. “That is the plan. Questions?”

There were, of course, many, and most of them confined to issues of supply and who had tactical control over battlefield decisions. In an army of mercenaries, it was often difficult for individual companies to be persuaded to follow an overall plan, but Generals von Mercy and Renz made it absolutely clear for the need to respect the chain of command. The battle that would likely commence in just a few days would be the first time that they had all fought together. With so many untried soldiers, so many raw recruits, so much could go wrong. Most of the Joshua Corps had never even been fired at. What would these young Ashkenazi men do when facing down a charge of wild Tatars, or Serbians, or Janissaries? So much could go wrong so quickly.

They stood there, in silence, after the last question was raised and answered. Morris took a moment to look at them all. He then moved from man to man, quietly and firmly shaking their hands, giving some of them hugs, others firm pats on the shoulder. He met them, eye to eye, and smiled warmly to each. Even General Hatmanu, who, nearly incapable of showing the kind of warmth and empathy needed in a time like this, accepted his up-time handshake with a curt smile and nod.

“I’m proud of all of you,” Morris said, feeling a little silly saying such a thing to men like this. “I know you will all do your duty. Some of you are here for pay. Some because you believe in what the Sunrise is doing. Some to protect your capital and country. Regardless of your reasons for being here, I want you all to know I’m honored to be your general, and I assure you that I will do my duty to see that you prevail.”

He walked to the main doors to the library, opened them, and stepped aside to allow Jason Gotkin and the rest of the spiritual corps access. “Now, gentlemen, if you’ll indulge me, let us pray.”


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Framed