AUTHOR'S NOTE: As has been said before, now for something completely different. No, I am not changing the story, per se, but I am adding in a couple of new characters. As I currently plan it, I will not be returning to Mar or Anhelette before chapter 5, so if you really can't wait for that part of the story, come back to this part later.
One thing I have decided is not to have a clear good/evil dynamic. People are people, by and large be they from America, France, or even Genin. Genin may be expansionistic, but that does not make them inherently evil. So, it's time to see their point of view.
Helmet, check. Armor, check. I'm ready, you all. Let the onslaught of angry readers commence ;)
"Put your backs into it, men!"
The straining soldiers in the purple of Genin struggled to get the wheel of the caisson out of the mud. The cannon was disconnected from everything else, having already been dragged through the mud hole.
"Marshal Freid," a boy said as he ran up to the man observing the muddy soldiers.
"What is it, Eron?"
"Grand Marshal Eamon sends his regard and requests the pleasure of your company."
"Would you relay to the Grand Marshal that I am overseeing the process of pulling the guns out of the muck that he so graciously guided us into and can't currently please him with my company."
"The Grand Marshal thought that would be your response, so he gave me another that he expected delivered by rote. 'Tell that good for nothing sack of river rocks that he is my subordinate, and not I his. If he doesn’t step to it and report on my time table I'll put demote him to able man, patron in the senate be damned.'"
Fried chuckled at the statement, knowing full well that the Grand Marshall loved his bluster. He also realized that if he were threatening demotion then it were something serious.
Before being inducted into Special Weapons he would never have thought something like it, but he marveled that horses faired so well on this planet when so many other species of animal brought with them didn't. He pulled himself into the saddle, and set off at a trot to the Grand Marshall's tent.
"You wanted to see me, Eamon?"
"You will show me the respect I deserve, Marshal Freid!"
"I show you the respect you deserve. The only reason you outrank me here is because the senate, may god preserve it, chose to create a new rank for you. If they'd really wanted you to be in charge, you would be a Field Marshall, or even a Marshall General. No, you are a Grand Marshall. Have you ever considered that it's because of your size?"
Eamon's round face turned a brilliant shade of red as he shook with anger.
"I am in charge of this…"
"Eamon, you are in charge of nothing. You will stay out of my way. You will stop calling me to your tent like a puppy every time that you need someone to change your diapers, and finally you will stop threatening things you can't get away with. Seriously. Threatening to demote me and take away my commission in the same breath? No one can take my commission from me. Not even the senate. So, while you could try to demote me all the way to page, you can't make me an able man."
Eamon laughed at the unintended joke, and after a moment Freid joined in.
"It's just that I am so bored, Freid. I expected being on campaign to be exciting, as it is…"
"It is mostly mud and marching, Grand Marshall. You could always head back to Genin City…"
"No, Freid, I can't. While I would like to, I am banished. Don't try to deny it. They don't want me in the city, so they foisted a commission on me, thereby taking away my name, title, and lands."
Freid smiled sadly at the man. A commission cost a lot. It was a year's wages in the fields to even buy the rank of Page. Each higher rank was, as was expected, even more. To become a Marshall, Freid had to pay his entire portion of the tribute from taking Aliaster. That had left him very little to live on over the past few months, and then they'd saddled him with this…person.
Eamon had lost even more than Freid, however.
"So, Eamon, what exactly is it that you wanted to see me about."
"The men in those wagons have come up with something new." Eamon's disgust at having men behave so unseemly as the people riding in the oversized wagons did was obvious. Even Freid could barely contain his disgust most times. Unfortunately, with the army being as far from home as it was, he couldn't complain about updates to his weapons. Since women weren't permitted to go to war, that left having men decipher the texts and work on the innovations that he would so desperately need.
No, need was to strong. That he wanted. He wanted all of his men to come home alive. He wanted to take Flees bloodlessly.
"Well, what have they got for us? Have they finally figured out how to make that…interrupted screw that they've been promising me?"
"No, no. Not that. They have, however, come up with this." Eamon gestured to one of his men, who went out. The man came back with a cloth cylinder. It didn't seem solid, in fact, it sifted a bit under its own weight.
Freid took the bag in his hands, and smelt it. "Black powder? Why would…"
The significance of the bag in his hands came to him. It would fit perfectly into one of the charge mugs for his guns.
"They tell me that it’s the powder that would fit into one and a half ladles. Exactly what we have found to be the best charge base. It will still be subject to damp and rain…"
Freid was already seeing the changes that this would make to his teams. No more ladles and half measures. It would be a perfect load every time. And quick. Drop a bag, drop a ball. Now, the loading of the mugs would be almost as fast as the loading of the cannon. They would be able to leave the quenching of the embers to just before they needed to load the mug.
"While there are many wonders in that book I would prefer to this, this brightens my day," Freid said with a smile.
Eamon laughed as Freid returned to his men.
Yes, this would be wonderful. And maybe, just maybe, they would be able to beat ten shots per minute.
Comments
Black powder and lace - 4
Interesting way to earn your rank.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
In a lot of militaries in
In a lot of militaries in human history, buying rank was the "understood" method of progression. There were people who talked about it being based upon merit, but it was all based on how much money you had, and who you knew.
Genin just makes all of that official.
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
Exactly!
We think of the American War Of Northern Aggression as being between the Blue and the Gray, but nothing could be further from the truth. Many individuals financed and equipped their own units. Both sides had lots of different uniforms and even weapons, at least at the beginning of the conflict. Add to that the State militias and it got even more colorful.
Like the political considerations mentioned here, military victories often translated later into political power. Inversely, sometimes commanders were appointed in the hopes that they wouldn't survive the field of battle or perhaps disgrace themselves.
A very interesting story!
hugs
Grover
Grover, I do believe the 1st
Grover,
I do believe the 1st shots in the Civil War were fired at Fort Sumter, which was FEDERAL PROPERTY. "Northern Aggression", no sir! That catastrophe was quite some time in the making.
G/R
War
The next time I write a story about that period of time, feel free to comment about what the name of it really is. Mostly that will depend on if you're from the North, the South, or Don't Really Care.
As for now, the point he is trying to make is more about the behavior of the armies in said war, and not about the name, the causes, or the resolution of said war.
I mean, if you believe Rick Riordan it was caused by the Roman and Greek demigods having a little tiff over who's gods were the correct ones. ;)
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
LOL!
Like our dear author pointed out, it all depends where you live as to what it's called. As for the Civil War, it was anything, but civil considering how many on both sides died as well as the devastation it bought to everyone of those historic battlefields.
Besides I was simply pointing out how varied armies were even in that comparatively recent conflict. So unlike modern armies who are pardon the pun uniform.
hugs
Grover
PS: Like I said, I know way too much history for my own good!
Ten shots per minute
...is one fired every six seconds.
Bearing in mind they are using black powder, that still means the barrel has to be cleaned out with a damp sponge between rounds to make sure any leftovers are quenched.
And after a very few minutes at ten rounds per minute, the barrel is going to become so hot that (i) the powder will spontaneously combust when inserted, (ii) the iron/bronze barrel will soften making it even less accurate and (iii) the barrel will expand, making it difficult to screw the 'charge mugs' into the end.
You really can't keep up that rate of fire for very long, even by using 'charge mugs' to keep the powder cool. In the Napoleonic Wars, artillery could only be fired for short periods and then had to be cooled. Naval guns could manage about 4-5 rounds per minute, but if you hadn't beaten the enemy ship into matchwood within two or three minutes using broadsides you were in trouble anyway.
Penny
Cooling
The main reason that the weapons needed to be cooled was not so much that they were heating up, even though they were, but that the constant heating and then cooling was causing stress fractures in the metal matrix of the barrel. You would wipe out the barrel with a sponge after every fire to quench any sparks that might possibly remain from the previous shot so that you could prevent a misfire as you were loading new powder down the barrel
Now, if you are not pouring powder down the barrel, then the only thing you need to sponge out is the mug. If you are only sponging out the mug, and the mug is not used for every shot (since you would usually have MANY more than one mug, especially for higher rates of fire).
The only problem you have then is from fouling of the barrel, so you would sponge it out maybe every 5th shot or so.
Still a possibility of the gun failing when being fired? Of course. But much less than under "normal" firing conditions, AKA those that happen with muzzle loading cannon.
Oh, and the charge mugs were simply slipped in. Interrupted screw is completely different, and much more advanced, than what we are talking here. I call it a mug, because that is what it looked like, and the reason the crews called them that. There is a recessed opening at the rear of the barrel that holds the mug securely against the force of firing.
So, since the mug is changed out with every shot, and assuming 6 mugs, then for twelve shots in a minute that is two shots per mug, which was considered "maximum safe" for iron guns of the period.
Now, if they were bronze guns, which there are much fewer reports of them heat failing, this is less of a concern.
Now, were we talking about muzzle loading cannon, all of your statements would be correct.
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
Are we talking the 14th century variant here?
Wikipedia offers this description:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breech-loading_swivel_gun
Obviously, this type of gun is quickly reloaded, but the mugs end up being quite heavy. Quote:
"An early description of a breech-loading swivel gun puts the weight of the gun at 118 kg, equipped with three chambers for rotations, each 18 kg in weight, and firing a 280 g lead shot."
So in that case, the chamber was 64 times as heavy as the shot. I guess the main advantage of the interrupted screw is that it is much lighter, so you can fire much bigger projectiles without using an impracticably large and heavy chamber.
Nice way of introducing more background by the way:
"but he marveled that horses faired so well on this planet when so many other species of animal brought with them didn't"
One sentence and it becomes clear that the plot is set on a colony world that received at least some terraforming. Well done!
Exactly
Yes, it is the variant you are referring to. The Genin army is using a 5 kg shot, with a bigger mug of course. The loading crew alternates loads to keep from fatiguing as quickly, but loading a 50+ kg mug is still tiring on the crew. To get ten shots in a single minute, which they usually only do for the first minute as a demoralizing tactic, they use three loaders and ten pre-loaded mugs.
With the ease of reloading with bagged powder, we might see them fire 10 shots a minute until the crews collapse.
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
He entered the hall to get warm. She left it two hundred years later.
Faeriemage
Awesoooooome!
I am really loving this. On the other hand, I liked Heirs to Empire, too. Well balanced charas who show personal development? Check. Internally consistent reality with multiple spheres of influence and politics? Check.
Ooooh yeah. I like your ‘people are people’ line, too. One should always see both sides of a war (even if one seems to be cheating by getting outside help).
Thank you for sharing—more, please?
Book?
I want to know what that book is... sounds bad for our heroes...
Hugs,
Diana