Chapter 217
Chapter 217
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 217
Chapter Title: The Great Battle of the Osby Plains (2)
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If I weren't the deputy commander, every officer around me would have pressed me just like this.
"It's not easy to build an effective defense against tens of thousands of knights, so what on earth makes you so confident?"
It was a perfectly valid point, but when I considered that the most effective way to stop knights was to lead with long, pointed weapons like pikes...
...a solution I could implement right away came to mind, and I was certain the commander and the other officers would buy into it once they heard me out.
"Commander, the first issue is that producing and installing proper cavalry barricades to halt a horse charge is no simple task."
"As the deputy commander says, nothing beats cavalry barricades for stopping a frontal knight charge. A few well-placed ones have the stopping power of an entire platoon of pikemen."
It might sound exaggerated to say that something as basic as a log studded with a few wooden stakes packs the anti-cavalry punch of thirty infantrymen.
Thinner spears often fail to pierce a horse's barding, but thick stakes like those on a cavalry barricade punch right through it without much trouble.
That kills the knight's warhorse on the spot, of course, killing the charge's momentum dead. The elite warriors in their plate armor atop it either die in the fall or are at least knocked out of the fight.
The ripple effect spreads from there, letting our infantry halt the enemy knights' charge without taking heavy losses themselves.
That's why cavalry barricades can do the work of hundreds or even thousands of infantry, depending on how you use them.
"That said, there's a vast forest right near the Osby Plains where we're positioned. If we put the troops to work, we can easily produce enough stakes to cover the front of every platoon."
"Stakes, eh. They won't match the power of full cavalry barricades, but they'll certainly help. The problem is, as you said yourself, we don't know how far we'll have to retreat. I'm not sure stakes we can't place somewhere specific will do much good."
"We'll load them onto the wagons assigned to each company—stakes that are easy to install and still effective enough."
With that, I showed them the sketch of the stakes I'd drawn on paper and explained.
"The biggest reason cavalry barricades take so long to make is embedding those small wooden stakes in a circle around a single long log. But the stakes I've designed are wedge-shaped, about thigh-thick, with small stakes on either side to anchor them in the ground. They'll be much simpler to produce."
There was a massive forest nearby, full of trees in all sorts of thicknesses.
We could just cut logs of the right size, sharpen one end, and drive them into the dirt. It wouldn't take much effort to make them.
"Unlike full barricades, they're small enough that loading them onto company wagons won't be an issue.
We can fit about forty per company wagon, which should be plenty to cover a company's entire front with anti-cavalry stakes.
And installation is simple—just hammer them in with field sledges or mauls, even in the heat of battle."
"They won't be as good as proper cavalry barricades, but I can see them having a real effect. Anything else besides these?"
I pondered a bit more after hearing that, but nothing else came to mind.
"Nothing else occurs to me, sir. Now it's time for you to share the plan you've come up with."
"I'm a commander with no field command experience. It wouldn't even be an exaggeration to say the only thing I'm good at is rear-area support. If someone like me tried to dictate tactics here, they'd be less effective than what you've proposed—and adopting them would just put the Empire in jeopardy."
With that, General Keitel, the overall commander for this battle, handed me his command baton, the symbol of his authority.
The generals and officers watching couldn't hide their shock, but I knew what it meant and stayed silent.
"If a man like me tried commanding troops in the field and gave bad orders, only innocent soldiers and officers would die for it. Personally, I was itching to take the reins since I'd become expedition commander anyway. But my personal desires don't matter. So I'm not exercising any command authority in this battle."
"Even so, sir, aren't you the expedition's overall commander?"
"True enough. Which means if you mess up and we lose, I'll take full responsibility as supreme commander. But if Lieutenant General Peter Jaeger leads us to a great victory, I'll claim all the credit due the supreme commander too. So don't worry—just take command. And between us, plenty of the generals above you couldn't do half as well, so why fret?"
With General Keitel going that far, none of the staff officers or other generals raised any objections.
He was right—no matter how I thought about it, it made more sense for me, with multiple field victories under my belt, to take charge than some armchair commander with zero combat experience.
"I'll deliver the best possible outcome, sir."
"Anything I can do to help, just say the word."
"Then may I make one request?"
Every eye—General Keitel's included—turned to me.
"The main battle should kick off the day after tomorrow, so we need to finish making the stakes and loading the wagons by tomorrow afternoon, then let the troops rest. To hit that goal, we'll need full cooperation from the officers... and even the generals. Could you lend a hand?"
The general let out a hearty laugh.
"This old man will grab an axe and pitch in chopping wood for stakes myself."
When the four-star expedition commander declared he'd join the enlisted men and officers in stake-making...
The faces of all the other generals and field-grade officers twisted like they'd bitten into something foul—everyone but me.
And small wonder. The Imperial Army might run on conscription and look somewhat modern, but officers were generally exempt from manual labor.
If a four-star general rolled up his sleeves for grunt work, everyone else had to bust their asses or look like slackers.
And objecting? That was mutiny—dishonorable discharge at best. So they'd have to swallow their tears and join the logging party.
"Good. Meeting adjourned. And what are the rest of you officers waiting for? Get your units out there chopping wood and making stakes!"
And so the 110,000 troops of the Stockholm Expeditionary Force spent from that night through the next afternoon happily cranking out the needed stakes.
Even the officers who'd normally get excused from manual labor joined in, raining curses and reprimands like lightning on any soldier who slacked off.
They swung their axes with full force to protect their personnel files and set an example.
A few troops grumbled now and then, but one look at me—or General Keitel over there hacking away at a tree with his axe—and they shut their mouths and got back to work.
And so time passed, until the day of the decisive battle arrived.
Maybe it was the lingering resentment from rookies to four-star generals all having to do manual labor, but the troops' thirst for enemy blood pierced the heavens.
"You filthy Stockholm Kingdom maggots! We've been sharpening our blades to catch and kill every last one of you!"
"We won't let a single one of you bastards live!"
"I'll rip you limb from limb, then yank out your guts and twist 'em into ropes, you dirty swine!"