Where it turns out that Mike is not the only one that got outed because of this war.

*_*_*_* Mike / Maria *_*_*_*
As I was came back to Amsterdam and my house at Prinsengracht, I had some trouble getting into my own house, as the caretaker thought I was someone else. I then got a real surprise: Lucas was back. He had quite some story to tell. But first he had a good look at me.
"Mike, You look great in a dress. What made you come out of the closet?"
I told him, and he laughed for at least ten minutes.
"Hi Hi Ho Ho - Now you are stuck wearing dresses - YOU who swore never... Ha Ha"
At least he saw the humour of it
"But just wait! - I have also a good story to tell!"
He had his baptism of fire on the Barbary coast where they were becalmed, and a galley out of Safi approached.
"With all those rowers I knew it was not the best solution to sink them, so I charged the deck guns with shrapnel shell, and just before they got within range of their own gun, I fired ours, while we filled our barkas ( a launch ) with en entering crew. The remaining Saracens on deck, I could take out with the rifle. Only few of the slave rowers were hurt, and those of them who wanted - mostly Spaniards were put on shore at Teneriffe, while we encouraged the remaining wretches to muster. "
As he got the message of the French declaration of war, he was in the South Atlantic. He happened to be near an English merchantman "Treasure Dawn", who was boarded by surprise. That merchantman was brought to Kapstaad (The Cape). where the rest of the convoy of VOC was warned. The navy vessels in the area then started a raid on St Helens. ( They would be successful)
He had then escorted the Merchantmen of the VOC towards Europe, and through the English channel, right into the wolf's den. Of course - the whipping of the combined English and French fleet at Solebay had made the passage possible, but still attacks were expected. Ships that have been for months out at sea are slow. Growth of shells and barnacles on the hull slow those ships down. The Zwan was still fast because of this product underneath. Only a few of the other ships had that special paint of yours applied. The VOC is going to pay millions of florins for that product."
"Your guns are just fantastic, Of course we represented a too tempting target. Twenty large fat ships from the Far East, and my schooner, and The Dawn laden with even more products from Africa such as Ivory and gold. Thanks for telling us that the English fleet was severely hit at Solebay. However, they had some privateers that dared attack. First was a detachment from Southampton. Five corvettes, all eager to collect the booty as every ship within sight of the capture were entitled to their share. They were in for a surprise. The VOC merchantmen are almost as well armed as a man-of-war.
De Zwan is quite faster than the frigates particularly in weak wind. The mast you put on it is thrice as tall as the others, and could make good the wind up there. So I then could hit the first with the fire-grenades. The frigate "Lionheart" was next. With one shot I made it burn, and it was impossible for the crews to quench. The five English corvettes got the message, they were on their own too small for the heavily armed VOC merchantmen, and one after the other struck their colours. Two tried to escape. I followed them, and from a distance of two nautical miles I set them afire, which made those that had struck their colours quite meek. I let the crew VOC ships man the frigates, and the crew were disarmed, and kept below deck. The nicest thing is that we were not seen from ashore at the time as the fog was rising up from the sea"
Lucas took a sip of tea before he continued his story.
"When we passed Calais at dawn the French were on the fray, and sent three ships. It was under Admiral Jean d'Estrée I believe, at least his flagship:' La Reine' was there, but that one quickly ran away as I shot holes in one ship after the other. The grenades were more suitable to hit on-shore targets, but sank the ships when they were hit. I think they saw risk of approaching, and disengaged,”
“I saw an order – a set of rules of engagement - signed Colbert that the captains are supposed to save the ships almost at any cost!” I said, interrupting the narrative.
“... but the ship "La Magdeleine" had taken the initiative, and was already windward of us, going about and was cutting behind me, threatening the other ships, so I had to engage, and I was limited to use the deck mounted guns. All hands were on deck on this "La Magdeleine", and most were hit by the first shot. They tried to man the rigging with people from the gun-deck, but the rigging was in tatters. And as a consequence they were awfully undermanned on the gun-deck when they were in range, and could not manoeuvre. It didn't help that we had wounded their otherwise competent captain, so the first mate was forced accept defeat and surrender. I felt it a matter of pride to have both English and French war trophies.
I found the captain de Préville of the La Magdeleine wounded in his cabin. One single piece of shrapnel, had practically torn off a large section of the arm. I helped our surgeon save the captain, and I was applying the tourniquet on the the arm, when I discovered he had a lump on his thorax, a bit like you....
Captain de Préville, was a woman. I sedated her with some opium from the medical supply, and sawed off the arm, and used some of that morphine you have synthesized. . When she woke up just before we sailed into the Zuiderzee. I can tell you she she swore like a French sailor. You could probably question her better than me, as you know the language. By the way Marijke, you wouldn't happen to have a dress to give her? We can't dress her up like a servant!"

"I hate it when you call me Marijke. Call me either Mike or Maria. I don't like that just because I am appearing as a woman, it is now allowed to use diminutive. I am not a baby - I am not helpless, I am standing on my own two feet. And I think the captain can be allowed to choose for Himself! He has made a choice, so please respect it! "
Lucas was a bit deflated.
"Yes - Yes - Yes, understood. Actually I agree with you! I forgot what it was like."
I was a bit stunned by that last comment, but let it pass.

I followed Lucas to the harbour where he was hailed by his men, and a large amount of other sailors that now knew of him. We went on board the La Magdeleine, and there (s)he was in the bunk; Louise Marguerite de Bréville was the name given at birth. I greeted her in French, and offered her a set of women's clothing if she preferred, as my conclusion was better to go as was considered "decent" when the game was up, as it was terrible to be looked upon as a freak.
He declined, saying he preferred to die, rather than don female clothing.
“I respect that, but I don't know how about everyone else. ...
How did you manage to get the job as a captain? Here in the Netherlands it would be inconceivable that you got the job without going the grades, showing seamanship, before getting the commission as a captain on a man-of-war.” I said thinking about a series of books I once read about a girl becoming a midshipman.
“Well – the French system of getting the commission based on breed rather than experience worked in my favour. I was in the Army for a year or so, but I got in trouble. My father was a good friend of d'Esté, and he knew of me. He was obliging enough to give me command of a vessel. I had proven myself in battle against the corsairs.”
“Then maybe we should send a message to your friend the Admiral – and confirm you are alive. I suppose you will find it a bit more difficult to gain a renewed contract when you are back in France, so I beg you to consider employment in my service when your allegiance to Louis and France is somewhat less important”
I explained that he could wear whatever as long as it was up to me. The lack of a body-part or two was no hindrance.
"You still have to win the war" he said with a tone that implied that he still thought that Louis XIV - the Sun king, would prevail.
He said he was going to be a freak anyway, as a one-armed woman. I still admire his stance.

I got in contact with Greta again, still trapped in Zwolle; Paul was out of reach.
It certainly was almost happening: The cities along the Rhine had not prepared themselves against this superior enemy, and everywhere there was chaos. the Provinces of Holland and Zeeland were most worried about attacks from the sea, so they had not provided help to their brethren. In many ways Utrecht did a sensible thing by surrendering without a fight. Friesland could not help either, as they were fighting on their own against well prepared Germans under the leadership of the Bishop of Munster , and his acolyte the bishop of Cologne. Both of them were funded by the king of France. Greta said she was not finished sorting out her father's estate, and that was why she got trapped in Zwolle. Instead she was now leading the resistance And she had had a large stock of food that did not easily perish; which usually is a problem when a town is surrounded a long time before harvest. Herring, pickled cabbage and had a healthy amount of Sodium nitrate, which local authorities didn't know about.

My yacht - was moored in Schiphol, next to one of the fortresses that was going to defend Amsterdam. The crew was reduced as the more able-bodied were tempted by service in the army or navy. In England, they would have pressed the crew into the navy. In the Low Countries that was illegal. Gysbert was anyway too old, and reliable, but it was with a skeleton crew we sailed back to Altena
I left Amsterdam on the same day as Naarden fell to the French. I could hear the guns, just as everyone in the city could hear it. Naarden is only 20km away from the city centre of Amsterdam. It takes somewhere between 3-4 hours to walk that distance. The front was near, but the enemy was closer
I had assumed it was safe to sail on the Zuyderzee in a small boat back to Altena. I couldn't be more wrong. We were almost overtaken by a pirate-ship full of Germans attacking smaller ships on the Zuyderzee. Our rifles kept them at bay, and Lucas vowed to hunt them down.

In Altena I found the the whole town in disarray. Old men and young boys excepted, most men were called up to the front - either to dig trenched in the bog or man the few guns.
Pieterzoon was amongst those greeting me, and he almost laughed his head off when he discovered I had duped him for so long.
The only advantage of turning up with a new wardrobe is that women were flocking around me, and it gave them a good laugh. They needed to laugh in these times when all news were bad. My nickname in Frys "t'famke" means the Girl, was not that far off. More than one claimed they knew I was a woman, that they had seen through my disguise.
In Paul's stuff I found a letter he had hidden. It confirmed he was the son of Graf von Arnsberg zu Siebenberg. My memories started to come back. Visions of the past which was flickering through my mind while I sat in prison, was now making sense. Indeed he was the son, and I the daughter, but we were not true siblings.
Right - we had a job to do, and my workers were used to obey me, which is an advantage.

I could understand why Paul didn't take the seven machine guns, as they were heavy, and he probably was aware they would consume all the rifle-ammunition, available at the time, in a few minutes. I had planned to use these on small armoured boats.
I had the funds to pay for production of more ammunition, and more guns and more grenades.
Our military expedition could be started. Lucas volunteered his whole crew, and some other sailors that saw hope in him as a good captain, and joined.
Quickly I organized some women to take care of all the children, so that I could use some of my best "girls" who by now were women with family. 240 women, but I didn't need yet a gigantic army. Anna had not only gone up against Paul by helping to hide the hidden funds, she had between her duties as a surgeon managed to keep an eye on the production of ammunition, though it was at a lower level.

I was worried the other side may have some players on their side. That there were other players I knew, as Anna, Greta and Lucas were identified. But had they access to advanced technology?
The radios were possible thanks to graphene- which is a semiconductor. Still amazes me that none of the others had been thinking how easy it is to make graphene.
[note: graphene was made with pencil and adhesive tape by Geim and Novoselov]

The good burghers of Amsterdam had some right to use their ships as warships in times of war. Getting a letter of mark to become a privateer was easy, and I had purchased such on behalf of my captains even before the onset of the war. I was the owner of five ships with fighting capabilities As such I was referred to as a Captain – at least before the city's burgers heard I was of the wrong gender, and unmarried, but the issue wasn't the highest on their agenda with an English invasion imminent, and the enemies at the gate. Then I contacted my liege.
I was allowed by The Countess to raise a regiment, and as the funds came in, to raise more. I don't think it was in her mind that I should lead it. The situation was pretty desperate so the HQ agreed to anything. I kept my miniature army under control by embarking them on boats,.

It may seem a bit off to aim for Zwolle first, but my accountant and friend Greta was trapped there. The small steel-ships had had built - could accommodate the guns, and supply the troops on the march. On the way was the city of Kampen. I never liked Kampen. Haughty citizens, still living on a glory of Hanseatic past, while the river Ijsel was silting up. The good citizens of Kampen had even torn down their bridge, although it was not over the bridge the aggressors attacked, they had given up the city without more than 20 shots fired. It was with great pleasure that I ordered the firing upon the this city, and the German gunners on the old walls had no chance to resist. They surrendered after having had seen their comrades hit at distances where they could not retaliate. One hour it took to gain control of the city. It was with mixed feelings we discovered that the enemy had taken the city officials as hostages. In the process of shelling the local HQ, we wiped out the old order. So much easier it was for me to appoint Lucas as Governor, and he would hold the first General election to the city council on the principle een mens een stem (one man one vote), and that involved women too, so there was suddenly 5 women and 8 men in the city council, and none of them particularly rich.
We didn't stop. Very soon we came into action as the troops of the Archbishop of Keule (Cologne) were considering re-taking Kampen. A very fast manoeuvre by the remaining marines, and our superior range with rifles crushed completely the four enemy regiments.

We were welcomed like saviours. We sent the boats back for supplies, while being celebrated, and taking care of the POWs. Greta was there. Greta was considered a heroine, as she knew how to fire those rockets, that kept the enemy at bay, together with the effect of rifled muskets (with Minié type bullets), and she had one of my special rifles with telescopic sight. They called it "caliver", as that was an existing small musket. Women were not allowed on the walls, but she climbed the ruins of the church-tower, with some of the safety harness I once had helped her design, and from there she could at leisure kill sentries, and officers. Just because of her, the enemy had to move the camp 5km off. Greta hit the wagons transporting powder to the guns. She killed most of the skilled gunners, and she even killed Baron von Something, and a Freiherr von That, in summary: terrorising the officers.
The mayor had several times wanted to surrender the city, but the brewers and the drapers guild had resisted, and the mayor was deposed while the siege lasted. The failed attacks had bolstered the citizens' morale, although it was tough to hear from the enemy that Zwolle was the last city that was was resisting. For some reason the main French force disdained to help their German allies, just as the final assault on Holland was delayed because the cities of Holland and Zeeland were going to the English if the secret Treaty of Dover was to be believed, so they had achieved their territorial goals, and then there was no really good reason to spend French blood, for no additional gains. So Münster troops were relying on an age-old tactics: starve the city.
"But my friend Jacob - goldsmith by trade, pointed out that if the United Provinces had given up, then we would either have seen an enormous army outside the walls, or receive a delegation from 's Gravenhage telling us to give up. Neither of which happened. Still - it was tough to ration food. They would maybe have lasted only twelve months, and Greta had only a hundred shots left. We were ill prepared for a siege. But thanks to you we were at least prepared to defend ourselves", said one of the men that was going to be a staunch supporter of Greta and me later.

*_*_*_* Greta*_*_*_*

I never like Paul. There was something about the way he looked at me. Maybe because he was jealous. I avoided having to be near him as much as possible. He had made his advances. The he found Anna, and I was no longer so attractive. I don't mean that he didn't try but he was much more careful when trying. He only did a pass when we were alone, and that was now fairly easy to avoid. He was absent a lot, and Anna was mostly around when he was back.
As the accountant I had a very good overview of the financial situation, which was extremely good. I made sure to have Mike's approval for investing in the VOC which had a yearly dividend of 18%. Shares in the company was easy to use a security, and there were other companies that did try to emulate the mighty VOC. A less eminent investment was done in London, where we bough shares in the The Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading into Hudson's Bay. Mike was a bit reluctant, as he felt there was a war looming. I disagreed: England and the Provinces were allies against France. And anyway - it could be used to have genuine business reasons to enter England and do some spying. It was impossible for me to do it, as the English would not allow a young girl to travel alone without a chaperone. I did try, and was arrested. Not for spying, but precisely for being without male attendant. I was saved by a Dutchman called Cornelis Vermuyden, who had a brood of children, and he turned out to be a very good contact because he was surveying he areas near the Thames estuary, and in Cambridgeshire, providing us with very good maps of the area. He was probably not aware he was doing us services. I even bought land, to make it "reasonable interest". I "betrayed" Mike by describing an experiment I had seen Mike do. It was a lie, but it worked. A very tall box was filled with soaked peat. The water was drained from a hole in the bottom, and then the shrinking of the pile could be measured. I told him Mike was working on this problem of shrinking while drying peat, but if Cornelis hurried he could publish an article to the Royal society on the subject. So I think Cornelis thought he was outwitting Mike by working on this. Mike had reached a solid reputation in some scientific circles, and that was paying off. Precisely the reason he was going to Paris. Officially to get a doctorate at La Sorbonne, and then a seat at the Academie des Sciences, one of Colbert's pet projects.

Mike had his breakdown, and was under treatment by Anna. I was for once alone with Paul, and I kept my distances. Els - our caretaker was also present, so maybe I wasn't very careful. I remember I felt very strange. The walls started to wobble around me. Els told later that she had to help me in bed. I was better in the morning, but had some pain in my tummy.

This happened a few times, and I contacted Anna when she came back from a particularly long period of teaching Medicine and doing surgery at the University. I explained the symptoms. She was very worried, and then she mumbled something about checking the stores.
I have never seen anyone come back so livid. She was enraged,and her wrath was not directed at me. It took a while before she could even talk, and then she cried. I tried to comfort her. I had no idea that it was me telling about those periods of illness that created this.

Finally, after about one hour she could manage to explain.
"Greta. You see - I checked the stores for the amount of anaesthetic and painkillers. The last entry was when Mike left. He brought 6 bottles with him. There should have been 18 left. There are only 12 remaining. The product missing is Rohypnol. It looks like Paul has been molesting you without your knowledge.
I will have to do a full check of you. Sorry about that"

I didn't cry. It was as if she was telling me something that had happened to someone else. It wasn't until she said : "You are no longer a virgin, and you are even pregnant"
Even then I didn't completely understand. It couldn't happen to me! .
I looked at Anna wobbling around in the late stage of her third pregnancy, and she looked tired, in a way that she was not a few hours before. Tears was running down her cheeks. Paul had betrayed her, and had proven to be a complete bastard. I think I started to cry because she did, and while I started to cry - then I realized I understood it was about me.

I know Anna don't do terminations of pregnancies. There were several cases where we had helped the girls in the family way by providing light work, and a small cottage. Anna said a year ago: “In my previous life I would have given anything to achieve the experience of giving birth, that I think it is wrong to terminate a life because it is just inconvenient.”
I never quite got underneath the skin of Anna, but I think that being pregnant, and becoming a mother meant a lot to her. But Paul's brutal betrayal, his lack of morale, was a heavy blow to her.
She said that she had given up on Paul. She had thrown him out of the house. She admitted the bruises were his doing (she had managed to hide them from me, but she thought I had seen them). I had an inspired moment: He was probably going to betray Mike one day. We decided to form an alliance and help the next victim.
"Please, Greta, could you wait to tell Mike about this until he is back. He is so fond of his brother"
Strange I thought that Anna knew that Mike was not male. A doctor should know, and after all those years. Well- it is not my secret to tell!.

Mike's absence was a long one. He wrote that he had made useful contacts, and that he had met the great Christiaan Huygens. They were quite entertaining. Mike needed to enjoy life. The plans to thwart the crushing of a free country was the initial drive, but I think Mike wanted something more. The pamphlets were directed towards freedom for all, not just the patricians, and the rich.

Father asked me to come, as his wife died. So I came. It was just before Christmas, and my reason to keep away was dead. Hein was stuck with three boys, and a newborn girl. My little sister. The oldest boy was barely younger than me, but Father had a disease. I understood it was likely to be cancer of the pancreas or aesophagus and he was not well. I urge him to see Anna, and she came with me and with her kids for Christmas, because Mike didn't come home at once. It was useful to have someone else present when explaining that I was in the family way.
I asked my Father - what the name was of that town where my little sister Traudel died. I got to write down memories from old times, and the names of ancestors, and relatives, some of which would probably reappear when they learned about the successful brewer, that once was shunned. We got news from Lucas. He was fighting Moslem pirates off the coast of Africa, and on his way to South-Africa.
Father was unwell from all the heavy food during the celebration. My slender body was not so slender any more, and I was often sick, but that he didn't notice. I finally told him my situation. It was quite a shock for him. I explained that Mike was innocent in this, as he thought it was Mike... No it was Paul. Hein then asked me to call his notary - It was a minor change in the will that gave my baby half-sister Hendryetta and me everything, except a yearly pension to the sons of his dead wife, until they were 20. However he has specified Paul and Mike as executors and my guardian until I married. Mike was already a partner in the Brewery anyway. Paul's name was now erased, and the act witnessed. Hein was traditional in his thinking. It was kind of irritating, that although I was more than capable of handling money myself, I was considered as a woman to be irresponsible. I got one concession about this guardianship business: Should Mike van Zevenhuis be somehow unable to assume the responsibility of the running of the brewery, then his daughter Greta (me) would be free to take the necessary steps.

A barge came with a very sick person, and good luck would have that the Captain of the barge knew that the patient was somehow the owner of the largest brewery in Zwolle. So he dumped Mike on us, and I sent him on to Anna. Mike had a sever case of pneumonia, so he was in bed for months, and needed quite some time to recover.

We followed the bier to the graveyard. I walked behind while a nanny held Hendryetta In the third place came the orphans Jan, Joost and Gijsbert. They were a lot more subdued now that their mother was gone, and they were at the mercy of this evil step-sister - I may be disgraced in the eyes of many, but I was now the third richest person in town. Export of beer was phenomenal after the VOC understood the benefits of the brew of Hein and Mike. Because of all the grief and bereavement I missed the message that France had declared war on the United Provinces, and I could not react to Mikes recommendation to get out of Zwolle. I had so much to do, and it isn't easy to travel with two brats inside that decided to come out when it suited them. To be honest I was terrified when thinking about the birth, and it didn't help when suddenly an extremely large German army under the command of François Henri, Duke of Luxembourg crossed the border, while Turenne and Condé led the army of Holland, as the French called this huge northern army, and were using the corridor formed by the land of the Archbishop along the Meuse.

Two healthy boys were born, very tiny, and with a will to live.

The refugees came flooding in. I started to organize the defence, and I explained to them that I could make tons of black powder, and it was possible to improve the range of the muskets. As it was practically a sea of soldiers surrounding the city they decided to hear me out.
With a practical range of 100 cubits for a rifle shot, it is no wonder that the range of a cannon - about 1000 cubits was the preferred way of attacking a city. The defences of a typical town were made for the 80 year war and not improved much since. As the French had the better artillery, they had a tactical advantage when facing older cannons. In Zwolle Mike had invested in two rifled guns, and they had a range of 1500 cubits and more. Add exploding shells, and the French commander of the German troops had a problem. They could not put their artillery with the Keller system within range of our two pieces. Their only weapon was the mortars that could lob the ball. Actually quite far, but these bombs were inaccurate, and only destroyed roofs. They also were short on these. Another unpleasant surprise for them was intermittent shots from the city. They didn't know from where, but usually an officer died. Only the wind played in their favour as their commander in chief and Duke of Luxembourg came for inspection, and the latter got wounded by a shot at 2000 cubits distance.

It was irritating that none could get hold of Mike. At the same time I heard from Lucas that he was all right and well after fending off the English state sponsored pirates that were prying on the spice fleet. The stock-market in Amsterdam, Rotterdam and Horne were in disarray, so I took the liberty of securing all the shares that could be bought from people trying to sell before they lost everything. I had the advantage of knowing they were approaching Calais, and I gambled on them being able to pass. I also bought some of the not-yet delivered cargo, a pracitice which in modern terms would be called Futures. Anna helped me with this, and it was just in time because a few days later the saving of the joint venture Mike/Paul was gone. Paul had turned up in Amsterdam and emptied the company account there.

The two small monsters were constantly craving milk. In a simple christening, they were named Hein and Michael. It was fairly easy to hire a wet-nurse. Two days after Hein and Michael were born, a young mother of the area - a farmer's wife gave birth to a daughter, but she lost the child after 3 days. She desperately needed a job. Her husband was a farmer, but the fields were fallow and trampled upon. I could pay her to be a wet-nurse. I continued to give some milk, but of course my breasts didn't grow so big. It was great to breast-feed, but then you have to have the babies around you all the time. Pregnancies followed by a permanent job feeding them was the main reason why women were discriminated throughout aeon.

I didn't know I almost killed the General Luxembourg, I just know I missed an officer. The church tower was still a ruin, and the “Peberhuis” as the next tower was going to be called was not yet finished. So I climbed up on either one of them. The wind was steady. The target was wearing an enormous feathery hat. But at least I saw that I missed my target, as I hit him in the thigh. It was the wailing of one of the brats down there that disturbed me. I shot a few others, and I hit the powder depot. No problem hearing that. It was not going to drive them away, but it gave the bastards something to think about. I later learned they lost 60 men in that shot alone. They could not use the guns, as the guns could not be moved within range. Extremely frustrating, for them that is.

One guy tried to take the rifle away from from me, He was so much stronger than me, so that was no contest, but he didn't know what to do with it, as he was not aware my three shot mag was empty. And he had not seen how I inserted the cartridges, nor did he notice the safety catch. He made a fool of himself, and the brewers came to my rescue. I may not be a member of the all-male guild, but I was the owner of the most successful brewery, and the orphaned daughter of a very respected master brewer.
I was suddenly acknowledged as a fighter, although they didn't like to have me on the defences of the city. Everyone wanted to see my sharp-shooter rifle. I explained I had made the telescope myself, but please don't touch as it was easily misaligned. Suddenly I felt like I was one of the buddies. I also could give them information of what happened around. Officially it was my late father's pigeons that brought me messages. So I told them of the nomination of Wilhelm van Oranje as Commander in chief, then as Stadhouder (Cheers, we're saved) the flooding of the waterline, and the fall of Utrecht, (Disaster we are doomed) and that the Emperor had declared war on France. (First time for a century or more there was a hooray for the Habsburgs here, except when forced to do it) At least some news gave the city - more crowded and cramped than usual some way to not feel completely cut-off.
There was only two remaining approaches for the enemy: Rush the ramparts, or starve us out. They attacked before dawn on the same day Naarden fell. It was a desperate move of the German commander (Luxembourg was recovering in Nijmegen). The guns in the city may be old, but they worked perfectly well at short range, and I had unpacked the rack full of Congreve rockets, which were used for the first time. Their range was not fantastic, but far superior to what the city otherwise had available, so the rear of the attackers were decimated at the same time as the front. The number of corpses left to rot in the mid-summer heat was staggering, and then it was not going to be the least. Only a few came near enough to fire a shot at the defenders, as many drowned in the ditches, and then met a hailstorm of Minié bullets, that also gave the defenders a better range. Two muskets blew up, because the pressure in the chambers exceeded tolerance, but otherwise the success was resounding.
Plan D for the allied forces was to starve us. That was a tedious affair, and I could calm everyone by telling them that van Zevenhuis was on the way. The city's councilmen tried to get control over my homing pigeons. Only the pigeons did not want to bring any messages out, and they never got any messages in, while I could get a message through to the cousin of some important guys, and got a suitable response back. The council was ridiculed. In the stock of food that Mike had stored here was Indian corn imported from the Spanish Americas. It had the advantage it was not stolen, not commandeered, as few knew how to use it. I taught the women how to make tortillas, and we used the corn to feed the chicken, so there was actually not much of a shortage.

The fall of the attackers came as a surprise to most of us. I knew that Kampen was re-conquered the evening before. The Germans move their forces northwards in response to the threat, thus we were surrounding them with the cities to the west and south, the Zwartemeer to the North and their army ended up fleeing to the East.

When Mike came it felt first like an anti-climax. It was weird to see Mike, as Maria, in a dress. She looked regal in her French creations. She kept her promise to de Witt, even it meant riding in a side-saddle.
The crowd didn't even know who it was. They were a bit stunned that their liberators was led by a young woman. She met the gaze of those staring at her with calm simplicity. In the euphoria as they realized who she was, she was claimed by the brewers guild. And the drapers followed suit. She made a passionate speech to all, and all could hear as we had installed the only PA system. Strange to see some like Mike, shy, and very awkward in public performances, suddenly show a fantastic presence. She talked about the infamy of all rulers, she talked about freedom. She talked about freedom to the people.

I helped in the vetting of the prisoners. We found and identified Maximilian Henry - Archbishop of Cologne, and Liège amongst the prisoner. He tried to hide in anonymity, but I heard him whisper in German that they shouldn't divulge who he was, presuming this woman didn't catch the instructions. Mike kept it secret for a quite a while, so there would come a time to exploit-it politically. I suddenly understood why Mike had been so keen on having a small – but well-trained troop of mutes and deaf, persons who would be dedicated to the task.

*_*_*_* Carl *_*_*_*
Carl von Rabenhaupt was old school military. He had seen fighting since he was young.. He had even hoped to be called back to duty in his old age. He was old, but not too old, only three score years and ten (70). It felt good to be useful again. Kolonel (Colonel), of the Rabenhaupt regiment, an honour that made the old Rabenhaupt feel young again. Organizing the defence of Groningen felt great, and they had no shortage of black powder as there was a large plant producing saltpetre just outside the city - that is... it was there until the forces of the Bishop of Münster arrived, and they had to blow it up. The advantage of having the raw-material stockpiled separately, rather than as black powder was that it made it safer. Now there was a detail of women mixing the stuff together together with sulphur and charcoal. They also had food and resources for a two year siege. The canals had been breached to allow flooding of the area. Friesland is not as low as Holland, but this is reclaimed marshland. Dikes breeched added water. The rain had also helped turn the fields around the town to a very muddy and unpleasant area which did not dry up after a few weeks without rain. It rained. The rain had made it utterly miserable, and helped fill the fields even more. The challenge was to get the help of the farmers to do this. They saw crops disappear, and famine looming as the water was rising. The attackers had only very small areas on where to stand and camp without getting soaked. On the other hand, the colonel was confident as the enemy had made a strategic mistake by concentrating their strength on taking this city, instead of first securing the smaller fortified towns, of Bourtange, Oudeschanz and so on. The fall of Assen was quite irritating of course, but Assen was not as defensible, as flooding the surrounding areas of that town was not possible, and the men from Assen provided more troopes for defending the Frisian land As a political refugee from the 30 year war, he had always been irritated and exacerbated by the petty squabble between Dutch provinces. Had they cooperated better, they would not now face this deluge.

The foundry had to be demolished before the enemy took it. That woman married to Councilman Zevenhuis, and who claimed to be a physician as well as a surgeon had directed the salvage crew, that recovered something that must not fall into enemy hands: twenty new ship-guns. But they were no good because they had such a small bore - were far too long, and it was difficult to ram the bullets down the barrel. He had heard they could shoot much further than the types he was used to, but they had proven to be difficult to use. There was no hole through which to fire could be brought to the powder. He had heard a lot of good about those Zevenhuis brothers. He was even indebted to the younger one, at least morally. Now he considered them fools. Why produce useless artillery pieces?

The stench was strong as the enemy used a lot of stink bombs, Sulphur and iron burned together, which creates obnoxious fumes when it hit water, and water was prevalent. These bombs were lobbed over the wall by some powerful mortars, but had little impact as they didn't have explosive shells, just a stench.
The defences were strong, although the enemy were trying to storm the glacis, while his men were safely firing from the parapets, and they were in for a tough time. The cities guns were soon too hot to fire more. They would reach up to a a thousand roede ( less than 4000m) at maximum elevation, but for a bullet to have chance to butcher some attackers, they were not effective beyond 300 roede (about 1000 m) They needed each their own set of bullets, as they were of slightly different gauge. They needed to cool down, otherwise they could either ignite the powder, spontaneously, or break. The Germans had stopped firing with their pieces, to avoid hitting their own men. Women were used to load muskets and pass it on to their men who then could fire twice as fast. Soon they would be down to defending with bayonets.
Oh, the Germans had started to shoot again with their guns.
Carl never liked the safety of his command post, he wanted to be where the action was, and now he had an excuse. He was about to go out when Adolf von Peizen, his only relative to come from Bohemia to Friesland came running and babbling and shouting in German. "Die Belagerer sind belagert.- The besiegers are besieged - It is a relief force, and they have surrounded the Germans ."

He was stunned of the view for several reason: The enemy camp was completely levelled. Where an hour or two ago regiments of musketeers had stood proudly , and safely out of range of his guns, there was now only piles of dead. The only survivors were those that had been in the trenches. And just then when the smoke from the black powder lifted, an odd-looking regiment came in from the South. Good heavens - Carl had problems reading messages, but he could clearly see they were wearing skirts. A message was shouted to the Germans. Carl's hearing wasn't up to hearing that, so Adolf relayed: They are shouting - Get out and no weapons. - not even a knife. A German got on a horse and tried to make a dash for it. One rifle-shot hit the horse, who died instantly throwing the cavalier into the ditch, and then the man was executed. There were maybe a few thousand German soldier surviving, but they were so stunned by the hailstorm of steel that rained on them, and all their brothers in arms that were lying about wailing in agony.

Shouts of victory from the city wall tore Carl von Rabenhaupt out of his thoughts, and then he noticed a woman on horse coming in. One part of him wished he was fifty years younger, the other half of him was appalled at having women soldiers. A group of Germans tried to run away. That must be the "Liebregiment zu Pferd" led by von Schade. Those bastards were using some confusion to bolt. Some were hit at incredible distances by a few of the women, and those muskets didn't need to be primed. Still the regiment, with their leader managed to get away. From the West came more men behind red while and blue flag of the United Provinces . At least they were men. Their progress was slow in the muddy ground even if they were riding horses.

"It is nice of you to come to help us, but we could manage on our own" Carl shouted above the sound of cheers from the crowd.
"You certainly would have, but you would have needed about a month to do that, and we don't have time", the woman answered.
Carl got the impression they had met before. Maybe time to present himself.
"Lieutenant General Carl von Rabenhaupt, baron of Sucha, at your service Madame"
She smiled a bit and said.
"We have already been introduced to each other about two years ago. Maria Van Zevenhuis - though I know that it is not old age that gives you problems to remember me. as Mike"

Holy **** , so this was the weak looking merchant that had given him a loan on extremely good terms when he needed it badly some years ago. He had thought the guy was weak and effeminate then, but assigned it to the young age. He had been far too busy the last five months to listen to gossip, but he had heard there was a scandal about someone posing as a man. Leaving him time to close his mouth she added:
"I hope you appreciate that your excellent defence of the city, and the moats made it possible for us to lay the trap "

Then she said she had relieved Zwolle and Kampen before coming here. Carl felt this was a sign of divine intervention. He felt like he was given hope to yet live longer. He remembered the book of Psalm; “Him was given three score and ten year, and if for reason of strength they be fourscore years, is labour and sorrow.” Right now he felt joy, and relief, but he was not sure. A woman-colonel, that was so alien that he could not accept it -yet .

*_*_*_* Mike/Maria *_*_*_*
Men are ever so often so stunned that women could do anything out of the ordinary. War is often thought about as a man's only-ting, but how many wars have had had absolutely no women in the fight. Most of them have had camp-followers, which of course does not give women in the army a good reputation. In a few hours Assen was ours too. My toughest units was composed of those girls that collected leeches. They were used to hardship, and willing to get wet in order to crawl behind enemy lines. Many of them were promoted to sergeant, and as you know the seageants are the backbone of of the army, giving it a spine down to the privates. No pun intended.

In the deserted HQ we found documents. They were encrypted, so they gave it to me. There was quite a lot of documents. They used the Vigenère cipher.
It was trivial to translate, as I found one document with the translation, so then I had the key, and those stupid guys used the same key for all correspondence. Most of it was out-of date information anyway.

There was no time for enjoying the laurels. There was considerable confusion. The body of the Bishop of Munster was nowhere. Had he escaped? It was a good omen that the mercenaries from Switzerland were less affected by the killing, and they were more than willing to forfeit their engagement with their former employer, and join Carl, who tripled the size of his army. On our side the Commander in Chief General and Admiral Hans Willem van Aylva, was reported missing. A very wise commander who had recommended guerilla-tactics against a numerical superior force. When we found his remains, we discovered that he probably died, with his unit, from our own guns, when we rolled up the German army from behind. A casualty of friendly fire, an unfortunate effect of war.

"Women have no place in MY ARMY" Carl shouted, when I tried to join him.
"Didn't I just help you liberate your own city"
"Precisely - Women - particularly one as beautiful as you has no place in any army. They must stay at home"
"But all are volunteers, and they have special skills"
"No way"
I didn't even get support from his ADC von Peizen. He said:
"You can't change mentalities overnight"
"Overnight - There are several thousand years of women taking part in war: The Vikings had shield-maidens. In France Jeanne Hachette and Joan of Arc, and not so many years ago [1652] Anne-Marie-Louise d'Orleans fired the guns on the royal troopes in Paris."
"She just gave orders to do it, and she didn't man the guns herself - like you do"
"Precisely, and she probably saved the life of the prince of Condé by doing so"
I was furious. I tried to direct my arguments back to the baron of Sucha. I knew it would be of no help to mention the example from the far away land of Cathay, where Shen Yunying and Gao Guiying had been a general only a few decades ago.
"The Countess did assist you in exhorting the troops" I added, selecting an exemple very close to home.
"But Albertine Agnes van Nassau is our liege lord. Otherwise it is against Gods Will"
"And what does the holy book say about the will of God on the subject?"
The Count fumed, and left. He believed in the Bible, and he knew the bible said no such thing that a woman couldn't lead an army.

After we beat the Germans in the first battle at Zwolle, I had to go and greet. There had been so many things. Getting everything ready took some time, but I was helped by the efficient organisation developed which was my entreprise over the years, and which was largely intact because the members were not drafted by the militias. Coded messages from Greta told me where to find the weapons we had produced over the years. A building housing manure, guano and fertilizers also had the rockets we manufactured. On Terschilling what looked like ships-equipment was hiding field-guns and the much needed rifles. Grenades were under production. Gathering two regiments after I received permission by the countess to do so, and thus becoming a colonel, getting to Zwolle, by freeing Kampen, and Meppel, and … At least they didn't try to steal my little army of women, and young boys. The Marines led by Lucas, were still in Mepple. The liberation of Coevorden was his prioritization. I pointed out that the German front would collapse now unless supported from the French, so beating the French was more important.

It was then Greta got access to the Countess, and she arranged an audience.
The countess received me, because I was now a woman, otherwise it would not have been proper, as it was late at night.

"Wonderful to see you in a dress - and what dress!"
"I had it made in Paris. I had messages hidden in the shipment, but they were not picked up. At least I have a wardrobe"
"I heard that you were arrested. Was it tough?"
"If you think being paraded around as an monkey, and then locked up is easy, then lets say it was not the way I would have preferred to be outed"
"At least you got out!"
"But only thanks to Johan de Witt. He is a very decent kind of person ... and he has got a wonderful family"
"Yet his name is our enemy"
“There is a difference between enemies and political rivalry. The enemy is killing people. Political rivals differ on opinions, but with the public good in mind, and anyway his career is in tatters, as he resigned, and Wilhelm's supporters control several provincial governments.”

I was getting nowhere with tangled political scheme. I couldn't tell her that her descendants would become long living regents of the Netherlands, like Queen Wilhelmina, Queen Juliana, and so on. I was by now more than aware that I was shattering the course of history. As to the evil tongs, there were enough of them, pointing out that liberating Kampen was due to surprise, that the relief of Zwolle was precisely that – relief of a city that resisted, and not a victory, wile the collapse of the Germans near Meppel was due to a freak weather- thunderstorm that had drenched the Germans, and you can't fire a blunderbuss and matchlocks in heavy rain, and finally that the victory at Groeningen was a joint action. I quite justly pointed out that it was the scheme of subsidizing foaling and raising horses that made the frisian army in no lack of cavalry. I really needed a cavalry regiment.

Greta surprised me at least by suddenly speaking.
"May I remind your Grace that you once promised support when needed"
"I allowed her to gather a regiment of women – thus colonel over your own regiments. I can't give her any more, and I can't force men to follow a woman. "
Greta spoke low with her Grace. I understood she was calling in an favour. I didn't know for what, but it had to be big,

"We don't have manpower for 5 new regiments, and most of those are now under von Rabenhaupt. I am about to promote him to full general, taking over from our sorely missed van Aylva"
"I don't need full 5 regiments- I need the title. Titles are important
-as Countess of Friesland you are respected, you even preside, though officially it is your son.
- As a 'doctor' one is more respected in academic circles
I know you are competent from your late actions on the front, but without the title you would not allowed to do what you did.
It may sound like vanity, but titles opens doors, and in some circles they even supersedes common sense.”
“I am also but a woman, and the power I wield is on behalf of my son, but I will see what I can do”, the Countess answered.

I noticed some exchange of nod between the Countess, and somebody behind me, but that could be someone I didn't see. Lady Albertine-Agnes called on her son Henry Casimir to be at her side, when she then announced;
"Doctor Maria van Zevenhuis - you are now appoint Lieutenant General of the Southern Frisian army- although I can not provide you with little if any manpower. My son is convinced you are a magician, so go out and do the impossible. I will try to send you more capable offices and troopes, otherwise you are on your own! Go get it yourself."

I was stunned how suddenly it came. When I was almost losing hope of achieving my goal.
Anna had taken time off the procedures she was performing, to sympathize with me, and she said she was even worried about Paul's mental situation. She saw it coming, and had managed to do something a wife should not do: she tricked him. She made him believe almost all the equipment was with me, so there was no use for him to replenish stocks in Altana. The missing guns were on Terschilling.
Anna gave me several gifts.
First she gave me her savings: enough to continue produce ordinance, and provide food for my troops. I would not manage a lengthy campaign. Almost just as important - she sent half her trained nurses/surgeons with me. The male surgeons were mostly mobilized by van Ayla and now von Rabenhaupt.

******

The land was ravaged by fire long before the German attack, and looted. Savagery by the attackers may generate despair, but more often strengthening the feeling of us against them. The patriotic feel was high and even young boys wanted to join me, and I thought - why not? the Lords Resistance Army lcontinued to ravange central Africa for years by recruiting or actually kidnapping kids younger than teenager, and trained them to use the Kalashnikov, so why not me? Muskets are too heavy, but the repeating rifles I had with a practical range of 300 metres could be handled by kids, as well as women. Powered by Acetone and water-peroxide they could kill people at up to 500 elen. An el is a Frisian cubit, that makes 500 elen, about 300m. Greta and her friends were using the rifles, and could kill at 2000m, but that requires skill, and modern armies does only give such long distance rifles to specialists.
On calling volunteers, there was a suddenly loads of them. Two hundred young boys between 12 and 16. I felt like the pied-piper, but then the area from where this person whose body I was occupying, Maria von Arnsberg zu Siebenbergen, originated is not that far from the town called Hammeln, which once upon a time was cleared of rats, and later children. Paul had discounted the training rifles of light calibre when he went off, probably because we were short on ammo at the time. At least that is what I let him believe when I was becoming uncertain of him. . I knew better, as these rifles used peroxide, but I had a production of the same type of ammo with smokeless powder which gave more than enough penetrating power at 500 elen,( 300 m). Those equipped with those would be within range of cannon-balls, and stray musket-balls, and with a rate of fire that was almost like an AK 47.

My heavy artillery was on barges and boats, so I didn't bring them to the battle of Groningen , so when we had crushed the enemy there, we had only used the lightest pieces - the Congreve rockets and ten 4 inch guns.
From the refugees of towns that were still in the hand of the enemy, we also got some new adult recruits. Men that suddenly believed that victory was possible. I didn't want them at the front, but they were excellent labourers, and they could move the guns, and they could dig trenches faster than any of us women could. They also were very useful to drive the carts containing the shells, and they could use muskets with Minié type bullets moulded to fit the bore. .

I was still a bit irritated for being let-down of Carl von Rabenhaupt. I had helped him when he needed help, some years ago, still he let me down.

Back in Zwolle to re-stock, and then on to Deventer. Historians will disagree on the expression “female army”, because by now I had large following of men, mostly youngsters, but at least I had enough women sergeants, trained for a few years, and who knew how to shoot from hidden positions, to exploit the terrain. With weapons that don't produce smoke, you can do that, while the opponents would give away their location at once a shot was fired, so I was confident in the tactical capabilities of the core. The challenge would be the new ones.

My strategy was now to keep as close to the Ijsel as possible. Tactical constraints meant I had to be close to the artillery which was in constant readiness on the boats and barges. The untrained troopes would be no match to veteran forces, so I needed them mostly to stand guard on and near the river, and bolster the morals of my little core.

Deventer was lost in June to the German allies of Louis XVI, and was administrated by Maximilian Henry, while the next town in the Ijsel branch of the Rhine river, Zutphen was conquered about the same time. Deventer had been betrayed by the mayor. While Zutphen resisted almost two weeks. A very important difference was also that Zutphen had then a quite large garrison, while Deventer had mostly armed citizen, the famous Schuterij.
I found it strange that by now the Sun-kings glorious army hadn't started to move to re-take Kampen, or re-enforce Zutphen and Deventer. It would later turn out that Louis XIV had assumed that the Dutch were on their knees begging for peace, and had liberated POWs, and at the same time laid down completely unacceptable demands that amounted to converting the United Provinces of the Netherlands into a catholic country. The misunderstanding, and the fear of antagonising the written orders gave us a respite, and a usually resourceful Grand commander of the army Maréchal Turenne was for a short while in doubt at what to do. He had planned to help the German allies take Zwolle, but was stopped by the kings cousin Condé, who said that Zwolle would fall any-time, as all the other cities had, no point waste French lives for something the Germans Prince-Bishops would reap the benefits of, and they could live with a single town resisting within their area-
Wasn't the fortress at Maastricht still resisting, while they had taken almost all the eleven provinces, except Holland and Zeeland? It was important to concentrate on the main goal which was Zeeland and Holland. Then the news that Kampen had been lost was disregarded a while because of the imminence of the negotiations. Too many good generals in the same area, and an absent king who wanted to hold his hand on the steering-wheel was actually playing in in our favour. When Turenne heard that Deventer also fell, and there were rumours that the war of the two allies in the North had gone very bad, then he decided to send 50 000 men and take Zwolle and re-take Deventer and Kampen, but the political situation had changed. The Emperor of Austria, had declared war on France. He was more than anyone aware of the objectives of France was not so much the independent provinces of Netherlands, but Habsburg land, and thus Turenne had to comply with his king's command, to leave the Netherlands, and start to razing of Westphalia.

It was mostly an un-eventful trip. The best sharp-shooters were sent over the Ijsel during the night, and shot the messengers that the French sent with letter to their HQ. When they saw that they started to tear down the bridge over the Ijsel. Fine - that meant we did not have to put so many "men" on that bank. We were setting up the batteries, while I decrypted the messages. There was an eerie feeling in the air. We had arrived by the north-north-east, and not far from the road was a small hill with the gallows, and it was full of bodies. Crows and Ravens were picking the eyes out of the craniums. The stench was unbearable. The German have hung about 20 citizens. We were going to make them pay.

I was nervous, and I felt the need to pee. In order to ride I had made this skirt with legs, that allowed me to sit astride a horse, but with artificial petticoat so it looked like I was wearing a full dress. I was quite proud of the way to circumvent the promise I made to the former Grand Pensioner of Holland, and still be able to function. But it was a nuisance when I had to pee. I had to bend to the realities of life, and accept to ride with a so called amazon-saddle.

The girls wore these uniforms with hitched-up skirts, and leggings. Buckles kept the skirts up, and when we felt it was necessary for decency - they could unbuckle and go floor-length. They could therefore just squat instantly when required. A good combination unless you are on a horse.
I wish I had some of the rifle companies on horse that Paul had trained, but that were taken from me. A general is blind without riders skirmishing, and scouting ahead of the main column. I had a trick up my sleeve to counter this short-coming. Those with sharp eyesight would notice some weird birds flying during the day high above the ground. Elements of the enemy forces were very easy to distinguish as they had clothes with very bright colours. It was considered a necessity as the battlefields of the 17th century were covered with acrid smoke, and only very distinct uniforms made it possible to minimize the accidents that inevitably happen, and is called Friendly Fire. The mechanical birds were remotely guided by Greta, and she gave me regular updates on where the French had their checkpoints. Only once did they manage to free carrier pigeons, the other times they tried to send messengers by horse. .
I got the message recovered from the messengers. Two pigeons were also shot. The message they carried was coded, with the celebrated Vigenère cipher, also hailed as the uncrackable code, but what does that help, when those stupid guys used the same key as the one used to communicate with the Bishops, to encrypt all messages - so it was ridiculously easy to read even this short message.
"Dutch troops seen near Deventer. Probably from Zwolle"
Nothing new. That is the problem with "intelligence" in warfare. You never know if you can trust information, as it may be planted, or wrong because the enemy soldiers do not always manage to follow orders. You can only trust the information that is about you that you know is right or wrong, and even then it can be used to slip false intelligence through.
The next was to kill the enemy, and we started by sniping them. There is this challenge in war that you really don't want to hit civilians, unless you want to terrorise them. With countrymen inside the wall, it was obvious we needed to be more surgical than the US air-strikes in Iraq.
When the guns arrived with the boats we directed them at city gates- Two shots - one to adjust the barrel. the next hit the Northern gate. We then took the windmills to the North, assuming there would be few citizens there so close to the walls. The observes inside the mill died.
I talked to them before we set up the plan: a small group would attack North-western side supported by fire to keep the defenders low. We had to get wet in the moat, and then climb the glacis. On my raid of the secret documents in the ministry I came across a book with limited distribution – by a person named Vauban. It described how to make trenches and get close to forts. With my superior range and accuracy, some of those considerations were not necessary.
While planning our next move, the the enemy sent out a skirmishing party. Hundred men, and they must have seen with the spyglass that they were facing women, and only a thousand men, and no cavalry. On horse they raced on the road against our first line. They happened to go straight towards our best markswomen, equipped with rifles with 10 shots in their magazine, and they took pride in precise shooting, and not hit the horses. Horses were valuable.
Meanwhile our planning went ahead.
We had some elements of surprise - like hand-grenades and not the least - the flame-thrower or what some called Greek fire, to link it with something to classical teaching. These girls were not very educated, didn't care for references to bygone times, and we called it flame-thrower vlammewerper. The primitive fear of fire is the psychological advantage of that weapon.

Then there was a thing I had trained the toughest girls to do, each was associated with two less experienced, volunteers and together they executed it nicely.
They found some relatively safe place to weather the hailstorm of musket-ball, and then we concentrated fire on the section of the defences. Almost windless conditions, maybe a small southerly draft was perfect. When shooting the French created a dense cloud around them, that both gave away their position and created a smoke-screen for our advance. The next team to cross the no-man's land had grenade-launchers, or used slings to throw these cannisters further than girls normally can throw. Lobbing the grenades over the wall at a distance of up to two hundred paces was easy. Some of them had been manufacturing those cannisters, so they knew the power, and the dangers. The mechanism to fire these things was a great technological step ahead compared to the crude black-powder bombs used by all other armies. When the bombing of that section moved to some other part of the wall, they continued, and climbed the defences without a problem. The final objective was not yet reached. There is an older medieval wall on the inside of the more modern fort, but as my girls used the flame-thrower with great success on the western guard tower, the French had no stomach to continue. All their artillery was on this outer wall, to prevent easy capture by the people of the town. We joined those twenty brave ones, that captured the objective, and at the same time the German and French forces inside surrendered. There was new scenes of joy as the citizens that had suffered the attack in June, were now liberated. It was quite a shock to discover that there were close to a thousand defenders, and they were all appalled to have to surrender to women.
The mayor of Deventer Hendrik Nilant was apologetic about his quick surrender a month earlier. We arranged a quick referendum, and he was no longer Mayor of the city. I appointed a council, and they had one objective: arrange free election within a few days. Persons that had supported the rendition were excluded.

Our next objective was Zutphen. First of all it was the next town up the Ijsel, and the Ijsel was of strategic importance. Most goods are easier to transport on water than on muddy roads. My heaviest guns were transported on barges and ships. They were far too heavy for the muddy roads. With the ships came also more troops. Success had made more men dare to volunteer. The Countess kept her promise and more. She had even ordered Rabehaupt to concentrate on the main problem, which was the French, now the threat from Munster was over. These new recruits, and particularly their captains were more difficult to manage, and they thought they knew how to fight because they had been trained to fire a musket, but they were far too undisciplined, almost a liability. About half of them I had to send back to Kampen, which was a good thing there, as they participated in the defences of the city. French troops were quartered all over the occupied territories, and some enterprising captains tried to re-conquer the town. They certainly did not take into account that the Dutch defenders had now access to better weapons. One of our sharpshooters even managed to hit the barrels of black powder on a wagon - at the incredible distance of 2km. The wagon load set off fire on other wagons, and destroyed food and tents, and other supply.

Zutphen was packed with troops. A large regiment of Irishmen was quartered there, and they were ordered to move towards us. Of course we did not know that. We were short on cavalry to provide the screening required. Without cavalry a general is blind, my birds were down because of technical problems. So I improvised. I used what I had:some young boys riding around, and with strict orders to flee back to us when they saw something - anything. Fortunately they did follow that order, and only one got killed, and we now knew where at least some of the enemy was located.

On the river one of the three armoured riverboats was coming up. The "de Zwan" had one more feature that made it special: it had one of these extra tall masts, and on the top almost 100m off the ground was a "crow's nest" - a lookout point for one of the sailors. It was a tough climb up, and even tougher to stay there, but the reports I got from "de Zwan" was invaluable, and somehow the Irish regiment failed to notice it before it was too late. They died to a man, but the shooting had alerted the soldiers inside Zutphen and the XIIth cavalry regiment was mobilized, and they galloped out. As the lookout followed their advance, I could give orders to create a trap. We even got barbed wire from the boat. Rolls of barbed wire protected the ditches where our guys were hiding. Barbed wire is difficult to see, and the horse gets tangled in it, which is worse that a fixed obstacle, where a horse and the rider can see what it must avoid at all cost.

After this victory we made camp a bit further on, but re-used the barbed wire to help against surprise-attacks, and in the morning we took Zutphen much like we took Deventer, but with a lot more civilian casualty, as the bombing went on much longer. With what the French assumed was a lucky shot we hit two of the powder-towers, and with the stock gone, they didn't have much fire-power to defend themselves. The next round blew the gates open. These gates would have withstood prolonged hits with lead bullet. Even kegs of powder would have failed, but TNT filled grenades with proximity and impact fuses really blew their way. So they surrendered. Still - we almost lost it....

The French commandant had just surrendered, and we were about to occupy the city when a huge cavalry force was sighted. Some 30 thousand cavalrymen. The Frenchmen tried to grab the weapons they had just surrendered. Thanks again to a vigilant, who ordered the girl holding the flame-thrower into action. It was a massacre, but prompted by their own stupidity at trying to undo the surrender. Several building caught fire in the process. The guns on the "de Zwan" started to work, and stopped the advance of Turenne. Much discussion arose years later about what the French portrayed as the massacre of prisoners that had already surrendered, but my view of it was that it was a combination of unfortunate circumstances and the action of French commander that had not understood they had lost.

Regiments of Dragoons are the most powerful force in the army of the sun-king. A normal soldier on a horse is best at shock-attacks with lance or sabre, used efficiently to further round up an enemy in disarray. The hand-guns are only short-range weapons like pistols, and a standard manoeuvre is to shoot one pistol, and then the second before charging with a sabre. Dragoons on the other hand mostly used the horse for fast deployment, and then fight on foot where the musket can be reloaded. This was a whole army of dragoons. The bridge across the Ijsel was already up, so it was no immediate danger, but we had barely time to get the ones on the exposed West side to a safer position.

Only the armoured river-boats "de Niewe Tulp and "De Zwan" managed to get along, and we had to make do with whatever they managed to have on-board. I sent the Zwan towards the area where the Rhine river splits into Waal and Ijsel, and I was commanding the Ijsel-line forcing the French to attack, as they could still get some goods down the Meuse, but their main line back to France was cut-off.

At least there were some reinforcement coming by horse from the North. The guards checked that they were OK. I had to prioritize the emplacement of guns - to measure up angles and distances - get the rockets placed in the right locations.

Citizens had been pressed into carrying the ammunition off the barges containing supplies - One of them tripped in the darkness, and the little crate - which he was told to carry as if it contained eggs was dropped. It contained shock-sensitive fulminate fuses. Not a very big explosion, but a terrible loss for us, but most of all for the guy losing the box; he died, and several others were wounded. I happened to be on the esplanade, exercising my sad skills at sitting with both legs on one side of the gelding and my horse bolted. I didn't fall off, but I barely managed to hold on, as I lost hold of the reins, a beginners mistake.

A man on horse caught up with us, and he forced my mount to change direction, and his thoroughbred stallion was fast.
I was caught in the strong arms of one of this riders. I felt foolish, but done is done. At least my saviour was a gentleman.
"A dangerous evening to ride about, Madam"
"I have much to see to, and I was in a hurry- Your name Sir?"
"August Ambrosius van Hornes, Madam" , and added "Ritmeester (cavalry captain) of Hornes regiment of Groeningen – leader of 200 men"
He reeked of sweat, after a long ride, his accent was cute, and softer – that is with less of the sounds generated at the back of the throat. Obviously not from Holland, or Friesland, still a native speaker. I was very happy to have reinforcement, but would he accept orders?
"And you?"
I woke up from an almost dreamlike state. He seemed not to know who I was.
"Lieutenant General Maria Zevenhuis - leader of too few, and whoever wants to win"
His eyes showed he was a bit startled, and then he said
"I am your man"
The guy was obviously a born leader despite his young age. He managed to get his men to quiet down, as they were shouting that he had made a quick conquest. My whole body felt like on fire. I never was going to learn. Just like with Johannes I was again subject to the whims of my hormones.

*_*_*_* Augustus Ambrosius *_*_*_*

The moon was in its last quarter. That is not a romantic information for lovers, it is just critical information that the night was pitch-black until 3 hours before dawn. I couldn't sleep. The last days had been tough, so I was thoroughly beat by the ride from Groenlo to here. I came too late to really participate in the reconquest of Coevorden, and it was strict orders and direct orders by the Countess of Friesland, that I join as soon as possible the southern army, and put myself at the service of Lieutenant General van Zevenhuis, who had paid the cost of mobilizing this unit, and giving me the opportunity to show myself off.
My brother hadn't paid for this commission. I got it because I managed to get access to the Countess, and as a noble I didn't want to enlist with the more common riders. I managed to get in contact with Lt Geneal von Rabenhaupt. I showed my orders to join Lt-general M van Zevenhuis. He seemed a bit flustered, and mumbled something, and sent me towards Ommen, and finally I was here

I heard the explosion and saw the horse running with the woman trying to hold it. It was relatively easy for me to get a grip, and save her, although it was partially instincts. I have been horseback riding since I got pants at the age of 5. She was a bit flustered. She was young and really a beauty. I thought she might be a daughter of a rich tradesman. Her mount was a hackney, and not a thoroughbred.
I was therefore stunned when she turned out to be this Zevenhuis , leader of this madness - attack the French when all Dutch generals were retreating.

I had mixed feelings of discovering the gender of my commander, but I have to admit she was a beauty. White teeth, no foul smell from her mouth (Yes we had been close enough), light blond hair.
She assigned some quarters for me and my men, showed me the remaining French prisoners, explaining tersely that there had been a misunderstanding of the terms of surrender, and most of the prisoners died.
She then said she went to have some rest - although a force of 3000 French dragoons were on the west-side of the river. They were probably waiting for reinforcement and artillery. 3000 dragons. That was 5 times the forces at Miss Zevenhuis' disposal.

It was well past midnight and I couldn't sleep. I saw here face when I closed my eyes, and I had to concentrate on my first battle. I had not been blooded yet. I walked over to the city hall, which was the HQ. I was stopped by the female guards. I explained who I was.
"Let him in", I heard a gentle female say.
"Mijnheer van Hornes - you are the most welcome, but at some time you must let us do the planning. The Frenchies are on the move, probably planning a night-attack, or they maybe try to cross the Ijsel. It's a bold move, but it requires stealth, and they don't know that we know... "
It was van Zevenhuis that spoke. She introduced some women. Five of them, and said shortly that they had each a specific task- of which one was to start light-grenades every five minutes. She asked me specifically to have my men calm their mounts as the guns were going to startle them if they had to be fired. I was curious, but I did as she told, and when I came back I joined to see the activity.
It was more of a rocket than a gun-shot, but it was fired from one of the guns on the square, and over the roof-tops. The rocket had a strong glow, but high up there something happened because it really shone, and was up in the air for a very long time. A second shot was directed to the south-west, and a third to the north-west. Rifle-shot were heard, and shouts.
"Sector 7 Alkmaar 12kel " "Sector 2 Dokkum 6kel "Sector 3 Texel 5kel"

General Zevenhuis just was present. These women seemed to know what they were doing. A young boy came running with a message that she read. She sent him off. She then explained while showing on a map.
"They have tried that night-time move, to cross the river here, and here. We have anticipated that, and let them through, into a trap formed by barbed wire.”
“Barbed wire?”
“ Eh” – she searched for a word, “could call it Frisian horses. These are worse. As a cavalryman you are going to hate it”
I knew about Frisian horses, and I hated them. Spiked stakes bundled, to tear up the belly of the horses. I hated them. But she was right. Barbed wire was worse.

“We caught them in time, and are shelling them. Sector is the location on a grid. Alkmaar and so-on are codes - the last information is the distance. It is a modified system from what the Finns used against the Soviets during the Winter-war"

I had no clues what the nations like Finns and the Soviets were in this world, nor had I heard of a winter-war. Most military operations were limited to summer due to the cold. Wait - I had heard of Finns in association with the Swedes. So rather than totally exposing my ignorance I asked.
"What is kel - I have not heard that - is that keel (throat)?"
"No! we measure in Groningen cubits (in Dutch el plural: ellen) and kel is a contraction of thousand, in greek kilo - ellen"
"So 12kel is 24 thousand feet -... that is 4½ mile ... So you are almost shooting to Alkmaar! "
I said, a bit stunned, as I knew that these guns hardy if ever were used on distances above a mile
"Captain van Hornes is good at calculus, but you under-estimate the distance to Alkmaar" she said just as someone shouted:
"'Sector 7 Alkmar reduce to 6 kel 6Bourtange and increase "
"Sector 7 Alkmaar reduced to 6 kel aiming at 6Bourtange - asking for backup"
"They are shooting with something that is a bit like grapeshot, only it spreads out not here, but there - and kills everyone within 200 el" Maria explained while we watched.
"Sector 2 Dokkum - enemy retreating"
"Sector 2 Dokkum - Cease fire - move up to sector 3 Sinterklaas 7 kel"
The crews knew their job obviously.
A fourth gun was turned around, and started to fire - This one was manned by a male crew, but one woman supervised. I now understood why those guns were located at the city centre and not on the ramparts. Many more things surprised me, besides the gender of the crew members, that the guns did not create a gigantic cloud of acrid smoke, although the smell was distinctive, and they did not clean the barrels, and they were just pulling a cord to fire. Four women were doing something with the bullets. I learned later that it was the setting of the ignition-timers. Ever so often a new rocket was sent in the air, and gave light to the spotters – men and women reporting on the presence of enemy.
"They are all retreating" was shouted - and some new positions were given. - and then Maria gave orders to cease fire, and send scouts

The scouts came back at dawn with some Frenchmen. Several of them had terrible wounds. Some with limbs torn off. I went out there in daylight and I saw piles of dead soldiers and horses. I became sick. Maria Zevenhuis did not laugh at me, but praised me and said I was human, with a heart, which is very important. She said: In war you remember the names of generals, but the families weep those to us nameless that are lost, even when the victory is great.
The French tents were still standing - looting of them started, but some soldiers were assigned to recover the documents, and we tried to limit looting by organising it, and dragging corpses into heaps, and trying to record names of the fallen. Thousand soldiers and horses were found dead in a small area. Maria also spotted something she called a UXB - Unexploded bomb, and she gave orders to clear quite a large area, while waiting for a crew with explosives to make it explode.

What impressed me maybe most was that she seemed to have no problems to read the encrypted military correspondence- she said: “Those guys are using the same key as we got from the Germans, so they are failing on elementary security, which is to never re-use a key.”
She came back a bit pale: she said the French troops seemed to include the French Maréchal Turenne. After some search - we found a body, that could fit, and in the bushes we found a staff - the symbol of the office. We didn't know what Turenne looked like, so it was an assumption, but we started to move the body that was completely stiff, and in an unnatural position.

We heard a noise and from the bushes a bit further away rose two French dragoon, one of them aiming at us with a musket.
"You have lost - surrender" I shouted while I moved in front of Maria to protect her..
The problem is that frightened men are not rational, and they seemed to be in some kind of daze. I thought my last hour had come, but I was in a way happy it was while doing something manly such as protecting an attractive woman, that obviously was destined to be remembered.
A shot tore me out of my thoughts of death, and I had thought it was me getting hit, but it was the guy aiming, that was hit in the middle of the body. His body armour was no protection. Maria shouted in French to the remaining Dragoon:
"Surrender - if you want to live" - which he did.
Name - and rank : Bérenger la Forge. - private and he could confirm that the body was Turenne, killed by a fragment of metal that had cut his jugular artery. One of the thousands that died in the middle of the night.
Maria said then something really weird:
"So Henri de la Tour d'Auvergne - you did not die in Alsace in the midst of winter, but here in a muddy field in the summer night - still dead is dead" and then she said a bit loader: "Let's give him a reformed burial - you once was baptised in our church, and I think only convenience made you swear obedience to anti-Christ"

Mistress van Zevenhuis was obviously anti-catholic, and that tore my heart. Although I wasn't as devout as the rest of my family, I was still respectful.

As we got back to town, there was news that Carl von Rabenhaupt, and the main Frisian army was within an hours march of Zutphen. They had heard the thunder during an otherwise quite night, and wondered. Maria told me that Willhelm of Orange was stuck behind the water line - the flooded areas towards Holland. She seemed to get some intelligence for somewhere, as it would prove to be accurate. But we still did not know where the French army was, and what did the commander in chief Turenne do here with "only" 10 000 men?
Maria corrected me - she said:
"There are about 10 000 dead on the field, but I suppose that several thousand managed to get away. The documents recovered seemed to indicate he had up to 20 000 men - and that is a normal army. It is difficult to move the main army, while making sure the enemy does not wake up right behind you. One thing is certain: the top French officers are better than any men at similar level we have here"
I felt stung by that last comment, but she seemed oblivious.
"Ludowik of France has chosen them, though he has outstanding issues with them. Condé led an insurrection against him. Turenne was of the wrong faith, yet faithful to the crown. These guys have proven their worth, their competence as military leaders. The level below is more a mixed bunch - people that have bought their promotion, and have most of all a noble lineage as the only reference to get the job"
I felt a sting there too. Most certainly the right birth made a man more suited to command. I don't know if I like this girl!
She also had no respect for Carl von Rabenhaupt when he arrived. She talked to him as an equal, and I noticed that Carl now did consider her an equal too. He later admitted he was most impressed by her swift recapture of Zutphen.

It was a privilege to be present when they discussed, particularly on the road towards the south. We still had no clue where the enemy was, but Maria claimed they just had to move south. She listed:
"One: They must assume we intend to relieve Maastricht which was our only fortress that resists.
Two: After recovery of the Ijsel - they have only one way out of the Netherlands, and that is towards the south, as we have now blocked the road to Westphalia, and they may use a number of points across the Wall, but Arnhem is the logical point, as they could use the bridge of that city, and avoid crossing where they waded across a bit earlier. Condé received quite a serious wound at the ford, so I don't think he is fond of the place. Even if they control Arnhem and other cities, we will blow up the bridges, so this humongous army will need several days to cross the Rhine.
They may try somewhere else, but I have provided the places like Kampen, and Deventer with artillery that punches them at a distance where they can not retaliate - which is extremely frustrating, and will delay them until we arrive. Crossing the Ijsel branch of the Rhine will also take take days, and it leads them not directly towards France
Finally: they have to meet us in battle, as they cannot return home without a good fight. the prince of Condé is still officially in disgrace - as is the case of the the Duke of Piney-Luxembourg. "
She looked at me and said: "These are men that are the best generals of Europe at this time"
(She use the Dutch word man - not mens which means human )
"I just hope Arnhem is not one bridge too far for us" she muttered.
Again one this weird things she said.

Historical note: I have tried to weave a fictional story that includes many historical persons, maybe too many. The source material on the internet about Louise Marguerite de Bréville / Louis de Préville, is not abundant. I have only found these two references :
http://www.opex360.com/2012/03/08/louise-margueritte-de-brev...
and
http://www.confidentielles.com/r_14256_decouvrez-louise-marg...
I have not found any articles in English; sorry... I suppose you will now find one entry linked to Bigclosetr.us :-)