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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Authors Note: This is my first story submitted, so I'll really appriciate any comments, enjoy!
Chapter 1
The War to Start All Wars
The normally impassive figure of Cleopatra fidgeted as she watched the final preparations for the most ambitious plan in history took place on the Arabian planes below her. Her empire was strong, but waning in this new age of fire and machinery, it lacked crucial resources and space to grow in. The cream of the Egyptian army had been mustered for the first phase of the bold expedition, the humbling of the Celts. She was outnumbered 3 to 1 in this battle, but she had some special advantages, primarily, she knew there was a battle ahead, they didn’t. She had other strengths, but she didn’t want to tip her hand at this early stage. She smiled briefly at the thought of success in future, before a bugle sounding the advance reminded her of the stress in the present
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Emperor Brennus leaned over the map of his dominion, also dreaming of a brighter future, but unlike Cleopatra, he thought the hard work was behind him; nearly a third of the U shaped mega continent flew the Celtic flag. As a younger man, he had led the Celts to unprecedented victories over his neighbours, one by one, whole kingdoms fell, and the horde beneath his banner grew. But that was then, conquer or be conquered, a barbaric age in which Brennus had excelled.
He hardly missed the battlefield, the quest for new land had been sated, and his thoughts had turned inward. The maintenance and well being of his empire was now his main concern. It was rich in resources, but centuries of constant warfare had left little time for economic development, there was much to be done. Hospitals, universities and cathedrals were being erected around the empire and now new ideas of assembly lines and mass production were starting an industrial revolution. The fledgling Trans-Continental railway had been founded with the long-term plan to link every corner of empire.
Brennus was day-dreaming of the future when his reverie was broken by a gruff cough from the only man Brennus called friend or equal, the imposing figure of Lord Boru. Tall and trim, and always impeccably dressed. To complete his unique countenance, he wore a brutal scar running from his sightless right eye down to his lip like a medal. He received it during the Dutch campaign; a lucky jab by a Swiss mercenary’s pole arm had nearly split his face in two. Boru had hardly paused before closing on the hapless soldier. Since then, Boru had been known has “The Halberd”
‘News from the front, Lord.’ He barked
‘We have a front? Who?’ said Brennus, his eyes, misty from his imaginings were at once clear as crystal, an unwavering piercing blue that seemed to shine brighter in the failing light of the long Celtic summer.
‘Cleopatra.’ Answered Boru
‘Alone?’
‘On the surface, at least.’
‘She’ll have friends, more than one.’
‘Presumably, but they’re going to keep it a surprise if they can.’ Mused Boru
‘Call my council.’ Ordered Brennus as he turned back to his desk.
‘Sir!’ snapped Boru, executing a perfect heel click, he spun on the spot and was gone.
His previous plans not forgotten, but pushed aside, Brennus put away all his maps but one, Arabia. He was disappointed, and a sigh betrayed his weariness of the seemingly eternal conflict of his people.
Last edited by theCzar on 01-04-2004 at 02:30
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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quote:
Originally posted by Rhothaerill
The dialogue you had at the end could really use some concrete names (i.e. "dialogue" said Brennus).
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I didn't bother since there was only 2 people in the conversation, so after an intial indication as to who is speaking, i let it slide so as not to disrupt the dialogue with excessive verbage!
However, i've taken your advice, and been a bit more explicit.
Thanks for the quick reply. I've got 4 more chapters written, but they're still being edited and corrected.
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Thanks for the encouragement, forgive typo's on the basis that it's quater past midnight at the moment!
Chapter 2
The council gathered in the airy, eastern wing of his palace, decorated in the Greco-Roman style to commemorate the first great victory of the Celtic nation. The council was small, and handpicked to represent the interests of their respective fields before the Emperor. Boru sat in the corner of the room, not officially a member of the council, but often consulted. Brennus stood at the head of the table and bade the councillors sit.
‘Gentlemen’ he began ‘We know why we’re here, lets get to it, General O’Neill, Status report?’
‘The Egyptians have really caught us on the hop, their surprise attack found much of our troops on leave in the cities of Medina and Damascus. I’m afraid our losses have been heavy. We counterattacked as soon as we could with the Mecca garrison, destroying many of their troops in the open plains, and drove them back by the end of the first day.’ Responded O’Neill, his eyes fixed on the mahogany conference table.
‘How is it that all this could happen yesterday, and only now we hear about it? I thought the new telegraph system was installed with such eventualities in mind.’ Forwarded the Economic councillor, a fat merchant called Henri DeMarquer.
‘Sabotage at Breda - a small town north of Amsterdam - It took us all day to find the source of the interruption.’ Explained O’Neill.
‘Breda is on the Korean border, less than an hour’s journey.’ remarked Boru from the sidelines, as if he meant nothing by the implication. ‘Who’s the commander in charge of the Arabian province?’ He asked.
‘It falls under the jurisdiction of the Grand Army commander, Lord Eoghan, a brave commander, and a skilled tactician.’ Assured O’Neill.
‘Your brother-in-law to boot.’ sniped Boru, but Brennus stepped in quickly.
‘I approved the appointment myself, Boru, as you know. He is a strong leader, but perhaps a bit prone to attack regardless of the bigger picture, send a telegram to order 10 divisions held back and sent north-west to Amsterdam to act as a strategic reserve.’
‘Sir!’ said O’Neill looking to his aide, who understood and left the room. Brennus looked at the situation map, the infantry that had been mustered and sent to garrison the Arabian cities were still several weeks away. The journey was a torturous trek from the green fields of Entremont to the parched wastes the Arabian desert, through the jungles of Germany and the mountains of Holland. Only a tiny portion of the route had been railroaded. He turned to the Councillor for public works.
‘I want all workers to concentrate on the railway, put the other work on hold, I want 30 miles of track laid a day between here and Mecca.’ He demanded. ‘via Breda’ He added as if as an after thought.
The councillor knew better than to argue, if Brennus said he wanted 30 miles a day, it was because he knew it could be done. He simply inclined his head to indicate his assent. Brennus turned to the merchant.
‘What’s the status on the work we discussed last month.’ He meant the elaborate plans for modernising life in his cities.
‘barely 10%, it will take at least a year for all cities to finish the upgrades.’
‘I want the top 15 cities to continue the work, the next 10 to start recruiting fresh infantry divisions.’ Brennus ordered, he turned to General O’Neill again, ‘I trust you disagree.’
‘I feel we should throw our full weight behind this war, if our enemy sees our resolve, the war will be shorter, and we’ll enjoy better terms, we could do with 20 more cavalry regiments just to make up our losses.’ Argued the war councillor, but he saw he’d lost this argument all ready, and he didn’t pursue it with his normal vigour. Brennus absorbed his response before replying.
‘You’re quite right, within a limited scope. Our cavalry is in it’s twilight, the new bolt action rifles we’re equipping our forces with give a single regiment of infantry the power stop 4 or 5 regiments in their tracks, and I happen to know the Egyptians have these rifles as well. After all, we sold them the technology 3 months ago, when they were our firm friends. The ways of war are changing, and for now at least, it is the slow and well equipped army that triumphs, this will be a war of industry and attrition, I fear that our current industry isn’t up to the task of taking on the world, and I believe this is the war to start all wars.’ Brennus finished grimly.
Last edited by theCzar on 02-04-2004 at 04:23
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Author's Note, again: I post chapter 3 straight away because i feel 2 is a bit weak on it's own, sorry for the excess reading required, it's shorter than the last!!!
Chapter 3
Two thousand miles away, Lord Eoghan had surveyed and directed the chaos from a tower atop the city gates of Medina. Cleopatra’s forces had inflicted heavy losses, but Eoghan still had a powerful, experienced army. He cursed his opponents timing, had this same attack occurred two months ago, or two months from now, it would have been swatted aside, but at this point, at this time, it had thrown the largest army the world had ever seen, into total disarray.
Thanks to good martial discipline and the low level commanders, all elected by their own men, the rout was stopped, and soon reversed. When Eoghan failed to receive acknowledgement of his message to the Emperor, he knew he’d be on his own for the first day, and despite Boru’s jab several thousand miles away, Eoghan was indeed a good commander. He called in his reserves and mustered every able man into the counterattack, with great speed, he had not only driven the enemy from the gates, but further east, into Egyptian territory, seizing a key border town with only moderate losses. He didn’t easily send his troops to die, but he knew his superiority in numbers only held while he was on the offensive.
Wounded soldiers were everywhere, huge groups of surly Egyptian prisoners were sent behind the lines under a skeleton guard with orders to avoid all towns on the way to the detention camps in Holland, lest the prisoners rebel, and cause real damage. Meanwhile, Lord Eoghan sent telegrams to every city in the area demanding that any veteran garrisons be dispatched to the front, most cities responded to say they were awaiting the same reinforcements he was, others didn’t respond at all. He’d had his counterattack, and now it was the Egyptians turn.
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Cleopatra knew all about Lord Eoghan, she respected his skill on the battlefield, having read the many books on his campaigns in Germany, but knew his strength lay in his ability to concentrate his ferocious energy on what lay before his mind’s eye, while she could look at the big picture. She hoped her deal with the Koreans would come through, and that they had succeeded in cutting communications, but it was out of her control now, so she dwelt on it no longer. Her own army was badly depleted, worse than she had hoped, but less than she had feared. Crucially, she had succeeded in pulling the Celtic reserves out from behind the tall walls of Mecca. A dusty rider was escorted to her majesty, a Korean Dragoon; he presented her with the news she awaited. Phase 2 had begun.
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Chapter 4
Authors Note: Thanks for the encouragement!! For those who wanted action, I present the Fall of Medina, i've done my best!
The lookout sounded the alarm at the break of dawn, and Eoghan came running from his chambers, he had not slept and his mind was weary, but his body had rested at least. He climbed the long stairs, quicker for the lack of armour that he’d left beside his bed. He looked in the direction of the frightened youth’s gaze and saw the dust rise like storm clouds on the horizon, the Northern horizon; the Koreans were about to enter the fray. He barked his orders for preparation, for what little use it was, the walls of Medina were in poor repair, having only fallen to the Celts two months ago, the requested materials had not yet arrived. He sent runners east, ordering the retreat of the army to Medina, and the abandonment of the border fort he’d bought with the blood of his men. More runners were sent west, to notify Mecca of the situation. After that, he got dressed, slowly and deliberately, he had to wait and see.
The illogical, polite procedures that heralded the battle began at 11am, with the arrival of a Korean Emissary. He formally requested Eoghan surrender the city, and disarm his men. Eoghan was a career soldier who had risen to his position from the rank and file. He neither understood these customs of war, nor cared for their upkeep. He confiscated the emissaries’ horse and armour and had him escorted to the gates by a jeering crowd. After all, a country that had failed to declare war before attacking surely waived any special rights accorded in times of conflict. The horse couldn’t understand commands unless spoken in Korean, and it was of poor breeding by the look of it, disappointed, Eoghan gave it to the mess officer. And returned to his post at the top of the gates, and awaited the trouble ahead.
The walls of medina were built in the pre-gunpowder age, tall and thin. At 2pm the Korean artillery barrage blasted the crumbling masonry of the north wall to dust and deadly shrapnel that rained on the defenders below. There were barely a thousand troops in the city, yet they had a grim determination to make the Koreans pay a heavy price for the gains. Nearly four thousand Korean heavy cavalry charged as the guns fell silent. They closed the 300 yards so fast the defenders had barely time to pick off one or two before running from the walls. Eoghan ordered they retire to the narrow, barricaded streets, the walls couldn’t be held against such force. The cavalry poured through the gaps in the ancient wall.
The lead Korean officer realised the mistake he’d made as his horse crested the pile of rubble between him and the city. He tried to halt the charge but the pressure from behind forced him and many others down the steep slope on to the pikes below. The pikes had been fashioned from the materials to hand, but the clutter of sharpened poles was no less effective for it. Those who avoided the pikes were easily picked off from the windows of shops that lined the road. But the strength of the Koreans overcame the perimeter within half and hour.
The population of Medina had mostly fled since the morning; the Koreans were powerless to stop nearly fifty thousand women and children carrying what they could towards Mecca, 50 miles to the west. Once the cavalry were past the wall, they found a ghost town; its defenders had melted away. They chuckled to themselves, for once the intelligence was right, it would be easy. The road ahead lead straight into the city, to the large open square in front of the old palace that was there goal. An old Major ordered them down the road at a trot, no sense in sprinting into an ambush; he could see a barricade ahead. The first cannon ball tore straight through him and the five men behind. The second ball killed four more. Realising there was no way back, except forward, the cavalry charged the cannons.
Eoghan stood between the cannons and watched with apprehension as the cavalry came closer, the cannons tore down a half dozen at a time, but there were thousands behind them. “Now” urged Eoghan, “Now”. It seemed hopeless when the ropes snapped taught. The cavalry charge turned to a disaster, a dozen horses fell in the front row, and those behind were powerless to stop. The cannons kept up a merciless tirade. The retreat was sounded, and the cavalry attempted to turn in the tight confines. Suddenly, the side streets were full of riflemen, several hundred Koreans fell before they made it back to the city walls. The defenders cheered, but Eoghan knew it was merely the end of round one, and the Koreans would not be so foolish next time.
The Korean commander was furious, when the news of this set back reached high command, he would be in trouble. Over a third of his dragoons, the best soldiers in the land, were dead or wounded. He had been given orders to preserve their strength, but they had charged on their own for glory and honour. Yet to admit this break in the chain of command to his masters would be to sign his own dismissal. He had to turn this battle around, fast. He ordered his entire infantry force forward, over ten thousand rifles. Take no shortcuts, ignore no house or side street was the order, there were to be no repeats of the last fiasco. He looked apprehensively at the falling sun. He would have liked to wait until the following day, but time was of the essence, he had to secure the city before the Celtic army returned from the east, they were due any time.
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The Celtic grand army moved with all the haste such a large force could muster. Over fifteen thousand cavalry marched in a column two miles long. The man in charge was Lord Polonius of Adrianople, He was Eoghan’s second in command, and had been entrusted with this ill-fated trip east. Every inch of the way, Egyptian forces had harried them, but Polonius had made good time. As night swooped in across the desert, his heart fell. The western sky was ablaze, the city of Medina burned. There was nowhere else to go, so they continued onwards at a faster pace. They aimed for the hill to the north where many campfires could be seen.
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Chapter 5
Eoghan watched the fires spread through the tinder dry city with lightning speed. He had withdrawn to the southern half of the city. The enemy infantry poured into the northern half, and drove steadily towards the town centre, when the Koreans failed to meet the trouble described by the cavalry, they were filled with foreboding. They had expected hell, and its absence was somehow worse. Eoghan had made a difficult choice and sent a small group of men around the perimeter of the wall to start the inferno.
The strong northerly breeze blew the fire and the Koreans before it. The smoke spread panic among the already tense soldiers, and all discipline left them, every way they turned they saw fire leap the streets. Many abandoned their rifles in their haste to escape and were captured as they ran into Eoghan’s men; many others were caught in the flames and died a grisly death. Very few made it back to explain to the bewildered Korean commander what happened to his army. His supplies were depleted as they had travelled light, and over half his men were dead. He gave the orders for the remainder to de-camp; Medina was no longer a prize worth fighting for.
A bugle sounded in the night, the Koreans mistook it as one of their own ordering the retreat, and started the long walk home. The Celtic Grand Army materialised out of the night and slaughtered them. The Korean commander was almost relieved when a rifle round thudded into his chest, knocking him backwards off his horse. The sounds of battle began to fade in his ears, and he gazed at the stars. It was a better death than the one waiting his return to Seoul without an army.
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Brennus had read the declaration of war aloud and the room was stunned. The intentions of Egypt and Korea were known, they hadn’t bothered to wait on the formality of an official declaration, but they hadn’t counted on this, seven nations had come together to destroy the Celts. The English, Vikings, Russians, Babylonians and the Portuguese had signed up to Cleopatra’s master plan. Thanks to mixture of bribery and coercion, Cleopatra had caused half the world to set aside their own differences in pursuit of the largest military engagement in history.
So it was that the Celtic councillors sat in a subdued mood, gazing with more than a little scepticism at the tiny Greek genius that directed the research potential of the empire.
‘I have some good news’ he said, the rest looked at him and waited while the shy genius prepared for his unlikely explanation.
‘Our recent experiments with oil have led to a remarkable breakthrough.’
‘You told us last month that it was good only for lighting lamps. Its explosive power lacked that of TNT, it was ill suited as a propellant compared to cordite, and the cost to convert to oil burning steam engines outweighed the benefits.’ Brennus observed.
‘That’s true, but we’ve found a way of harnessing it’s power directly, I believe it will replace steam power as the driving force in our engines. By vaporising it and igniting it in an enclosed cylinder, it releases immense power. We’ve successfully built an engine with the power of over a hundred horses, yet it’s far smaller than a boiler.’ he explained.
‘So what? Faster trains? Smaller trains?’ asked the Merchant, Henri; sceptical of how this helped in the dire situation they found themselves in. Winning a war was a boon to the economy; losing one was a different story.
‘Yes, but much more, I’m thinking of boats twice the size of our ironclads that can cross the great ocean in less than a week while carrying many more, heavier guns. We’ve started research on a vehicle that doesn’t need train tracks, and can carry artillery guns and enough armour to make them unstoppable.’ He paused; he had their rapt attention.
‘How long.’ asked Brennus quietly, afraid of the answer. Scientist’s hated deadlines, they like to drift off on tangents their research threw up, deadlines were conducive to cut corners and missed opportunities. But the little Greek understood the situation.
‘We can have the first working self-propelled combat vehicle model tested and delivered in four weeks with enough manpower and resources’ he ventured.
‘You’ve got it, but I want it in 2.’ said Brennus ‘I want this to be a secret weapon, Boru?’
‘Sir?’
‘Any ideas for getting a weapon the size of an Imperial carriage to the battle field without arousing suspicion?’
‘Put it in a box that says something else’ replied Boru, master of the obvious.
‘Like…’ prompted Brennus
‘Water Tank?’
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Chapter 6
The Celtic army was exhausted; they had defeated the Egyptian and Korean army in only two days, it had lost over half it’s numbers, and reinforcements were still a week away. They abandoned medina and started on the way to Mecca, Eoghan resumed his position at the head of the army. They had only gone half way when they were caught by the detachment that had been left to provide advance warning of further attacks. The news was stunning. Over one hundred thousand men had arrived flying the banners of the England, Babylon, Scandinavia and Russia had arrived. Meanwhile Damascus sent word of a Portuguese armada off the coast. There was little choice but to retreat from Arabia and try to link with the reinforcements. Besides, they could better hold the Dutch Alps than the Arabian plains.
The next four weeks were the darkest in Celtic history, government releases played down the disaster in the far south-east, but the people seemed to sense the trouble in the nerves of imperial ministers, all over the empire, the mood on the street was black, all merriment seemed drained from the Continent. The mountains of Holland that resisted Celtic occupation for so long, were now the Celts saving advantage, the meagre garrisons in the mountain towns fought a guerrilla war, while their comrades in arms on the plains below developed a new form of warfare, digging deep “trenches” for miles along the front and stringing barbed wire along it, the Eastern Alliance paid heavily for their gains, but the industry of seven nations gave them unstoppable momentum.
While Arabia fell to the onslaught, and Dutch cities started to get cut off, Breda, a small hamlet, became the rallying point for the war machine of the Celtic Empire, railroad had been flung down at such a pace, that Breda was now only a day’s journey from the capital, down from seven. The people of Breda were the happiest of the Empire, for they gazed every day at the seemingly endless materials of war that poured into the valley that stretched south from the town, they said to one another, “With strength as this, how could we be defeated”. Nobody passed any remark on the huge crates marked “Water Tanks”.
The town carpenter, William DeBoer, born and reared in Amsterdam was in fact an Egyptian agent. He had moved to Breda a month before the war began. He watched with interest as a train arrived and deposited several hundred men in a uniform he hadn’t seen, they carried neither rifle, nor a soldier’s pack. The Colonel in charge of this strange bunch, yelled “1st Armoured Brigade, FALL IN”. He was immediately hushed by a stocky General. They exchanged some muted words before parting; the Colonel motioned his men forward with his riding crop, towards a newly constructed storage hanger for water tanks, it was bigger than all the others.
William didn’t know what to make of it; he sauntered towards his house to send this interesting titbit further up the spy network. He carefully wrote the message on the tiny paper and placed in a small cylinder. He had carrier pigeons hidden in his workshop. As he stepped outside, he was clubbed from behind and dragged away for debriefing by Celtic counter intelligence. The message that did reach Thebes later that week was merely a routine detail of regular troop movements. The new brigade didn’t stay long either; they were sent towards the Korean border, a hundred miles to the east, along with all the unremarkable water tanks.
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The Korean border guard reported the arrival of a large amount of water tanks, it was correctly surmised that it was the precursor to an invasion, but they didn’t know that the water tanks were the invasion. The Korean army had been reinforced and re-equipped, and was nearly back to full strength. It was stationed over a hundred miles away, but could be at the border town of Pyonsong in less than a day. Korean high command could not risk more troops in Arabia to the south, let the other members of the motley alliance burn in the sun, besides, they shared quite a large border with the Celts who were wounded, but maybe all the more dangerous for it. The roar of experimental diesel engines, shattered the morning quiet, and was mistaken as thunder by the Pyonsong garrison.
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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quote:
Originally posted by Paddy the Scot
do you play a lot of Civ?
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Do i ever, i've got university exams in T-minus 10 days, and counting, so i've sworn off it, i'm in the middle of the move from Monarch to Emperor difficulty levels atm...
thanks for the continued comments, makes it a lot easier to keep writing
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Chapter 7
Author's Note: Sorry about the long delay, I'm right in the middle of my exams, and my backs been to the wall, but i've sat down and written another three chapters.
Further, just in case those of you following this have forgotten what the bloody hell is going on...
The story so far: The Celtic empire has been attacked by a nefarious alliance, headed by Cleopatra, and things are looking grim, but a new Celtic invention promises to redress the balance, the story continues...
Emperor Brennus watched his new weapon’s roll forward. Only the local commander knew he was there, hidden in a small house on the edge of a wood, near the Celtic staging area, he couldn’t help but smile when he looked at Boru’s childish glee, he had insisted on seeing the new weapons. Unlike other retired generals who, once they had reached a certain age, suddenly began to disdain new technology, Boru was always instantly infatuated with any new gizmo.
The tests of the “Tanks”, as they had come to be known, had progressed rapidly and without any major trouble, but the real test would be the Koreans, if this battle went wrong, the Celtic revival would be halted in it’s tracks. They were ferocious instruments that roared and belched foul smelling exhaust, there were several different models being tried out, they all had the distinctive caterpillar tracks and carried thick armour to turn aside enemy rifle rounds and even small calibre artillery shells. There was a stub nosed, 6 pound artillery piece fixed facing forward, the tanks carried a selection of shells including solid rounds for bursting the walls of fortifications and a new type of explosive shell. This was complimented by rapid-fire automatic rifles fired from swivel positions around the hull.
There were forty tanks in the brigade, one stalled on the start line but the rest advanced at a slow but steady jogging pace. In only twenty minutes they were through the enemy picket, the border patrol fled after firing a only a few ineffective rounds, the pioneering young tankers were eager to see how the mechanical wonders performed and tried to push up the engine power and give chase but they were restrained by their commanders, all of whom were experienced men and knew that pushing the engines now would risk damaging them before the battle.
In another twenty minutes the tanks were halted on the bluff overlooking the small town of Pyonsong that had been a popular vacation spot for Korean nobles who came for the natural volcanic springs. The Colonel in charge of the tank brigade peered through his binoculars at the enemy running to and fro in front of the barricaded fort gates, which lay some half-mile beyond the town. His main objective was to lure a Korean counter attack, with the tanks firepower, it was hoped to crush the reformed Korean army in one big battle, knocking them out of the war. Several Korean artillery pieces opened up but the shrapnel merely tinkled on the tank’s tough hide. With a sharp hand gesture, the tanks were ordered forward, firing as they went.
As the tanks advanced, several infantry brigades with a squadron of dragoons in support moved in behind the advancing column cleaning up Korean stragglers. The little town with it’s polished cobble streets and wooden buildings had a white flag flying from its flagpole, the houses had white sheets out the windows, it was clear they wanted to spare the ancient village as much as possible, it wasn’t a defensible position with it’s wooden construction, so the Korean border garrison had retired to the fort.
It was only a light test for the tanks, they moved in around the small fort, which was in itself more a tourist attraction with its earthen walls. A bugle sounded and nearly a hundred Korean cavalry charged, their speed allowed many to get close to the advancing tanks, but many more were cut down. When they got close to the roaring mechanical beasts, the Koreans realised there was nothing they could do, the foul diesel exhaust panicked their horses and their rifles were a long way short of slowing the tanks, they threw down their rifles in disgust, some fled back to the fort, others simply put their hands the air as the Celtic forces following the tanks arrived.
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Col Mei Ping, watched the impotence of his best men with awed admiration, warfare had just been changed forever. He had only two hundred men, conscripts and reservists, no sense in prolonging this rout, it was expected of to him to spend his troops lives in order to buy time for the main Korean force to move into position, but he knew that sending his men into this new Celtic meat grinder would buy mere seconds, he realised surrender was the only option, and the decision released a huge weight of responsibility from shoulders, he gave a laugh which surprised his aide, and sent him to raise the white flag.
Meanwhile the rest of the Korean army, with its new commander, decamped and moved out, they would arrive at Pyonsong in that night.
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Chapter 8
Brennus was in better spirits than he had been for weeks; the tanks first field test had exceeded even the most optimistic expectations. The big test would arrive tomorrow with the rest of the Korean army. Tanks aside, The Celts were outnumbered 4 to 1, and though the Korean army had lost it’s best troops in the Battle of Medina, they weren’t to be ignored. The Koreans would not be long in improvising some counter to his tanks, though he was confident they were months behind developing their own.
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The war in the south had ground to a halt as winter came on in the Dutch Alps and slowed the advance to a crawl. The great city of New Amsterdam, which was perched on the entrance to the valley that ran through the Alps, had become the bloodiest city in the world, Brennus sent only the minimum of forces to hold the city, and the rest was devoted to the counter attack. Every day, the Russian artillery pounded the Celtic half of the city, Celtic artillery responded by hammering the remaining half, then the demoralised and shattered regiments of both sides would skirmish, attack and counter attack, retreat and advance until commanders on both sides felt they’d lost their quota of men for another day in hell and fell back to more or less the same positions they had occupied for nearly a fortnight.
Other cites all along the mighty Alps that split the mega continent squarely in two were engaged in bitter feuds with the armies of Babylon in the north and Scandinavia to the south. The Portuguese armada was assaulting the coastal pass around Baghdad. Theirs was the weakest force in Cleopatra’s Alliance, and they spared their old-fashioned musket troops, much to Cleopatra’s fury. The English were holding back as well, Cleopatra and Elizabeth had furious arguments at every council, Cleopatra insisted the English move north, link with the Koreans and thence push east towards Breda, Elizabeth flat refused. But the argument reached a head dramatically on the afternoon of the Pyonsong attack.
“The English army will not be squandered on some diversion, designed merely to allow you to gather the windfall.” Explained Queen Elizabeth.
Cleopatra scowled before reiterating here point.
“The Celtic army is stationed there, and much weakened, if we can but defeat them at Breda, we can come at those accursed Alps from both sides, we Egyptians would gladly go ourselves, but our army has been destroyed making the opportunity for my Sisters and Brothers in the alliance. Meanwhile, your hesitation in engaging the Celtic army at Breda, which my spies inform me is only several thousand strong, is wasting the opportunity made possible with the blood of my people, and the blood of the brave Vikings, Russians and Babylonians” Purred Cleopatra, smiling at the sullen Emperors.
Elizabeth looked impatient; this was old ground they had covered many times before.
“The council has heard many times of the plight of the Egyptian army, what were your losses again?” The English queen asked, putting on her eyeglasses, she looked at the memo her chamberlain had delivered to her before the briefing.
“Here it is, you reported over ten thousand dead or invalided out of the war, apparently eighty percent of your total force, incidentally, here’s a Celtic propaganda sheet claiming seven thousand, unusual for them to play down such a victory in face of mounting defeats?” Elizabeth arched her eyebrows questioningly.
Cleopatra sniffed disdainfully.
“If the English need to look to Celtic propaganda for their intelligence briefings, it’s no wonder you’re afraid of attacking.” Cleopatra observed, winning a chuckle from the other leaders.
Elizabeth smiled back.
“Not at all, out intelligence services have put together a most interesting compendium all on their own” Elizabeth paused as copies were distributed. “According to our own reports, the Egyptian army numbered over twenty five thousand at the outbreak of the war, yet now, after your ten thousand losses, you claim to have a mere three thousand left. If you will all have a look at the army pay accounts on page two, dated 4 days ago, there is pay for nearly thirty thousand men”
The other leaders gasped, and look accusingly at Cleopatra, who was pale, The fiery Viking Lodbrok muttered heatedly with Emperor Catherine of the Russians.
Cleopatra was furious.
“YOU DARE SPY ON ME” The Queen of the Nile positively shrieked.
Elizabeth stood, and said
“Ladies and Gentlemen, you have the facts in front of you, Cleopatra has been deliberately misleading us, It was her plan to have us destroy ourselves and the Celts, leaving her the task of gathering up the pieces, of the Celtic empire, and ours. In light of this, I’m leaving the Alliance with my small army while I still have it, good day.” With this stark declaration, the Queen of England stalked from the room to her waiting carriage.
The room was stunned, and meeting was adjourned, Cleopatra sat alone in a quivering fury for several hours. Things were falling apart, now when she was so close. The other members of the Alliance would stick it out, they had come too far already, but she would be forced to use her own army if the alliance was to have any chance of beating the Celts, she longed to give the orders to attack Elizabeth, but she had timed her exit with perfection, and now the Egyptians could ill afford to wear out their army on the Great Wall of England, which sealed off their Peninsula, the English would pay, but not yet. Her aide disturbed her cold reverie; there was incredible news from Korea.
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xiaodave
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Xiaodave walks up in a smart looking bowler. "Bloody good show! Just like those toppy English weeds to poof off when there's a good bit of stomping to be had. Bunch of blighty little girls blouses if you ask me!"
"Wait a minute." He looks back over his shoulder at Big Ben standing ever so resolutely next to the Great Wall.
"Nevermind."
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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I seem to have posted the same chapter twice... oh well, more haste less speed or something
Last edited by theCzar on 20-05-2004 at 02:47
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theCzar
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I live In a house, near a long strip of tarmac leading to some shops, do you know it?
Nov 2003
time: 05:35
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Chapter 9
During the night, The Korean army arrived at the outskirts of Pyonsong, their scouts had found the Celtic army fortifying their position along the hill top, facing the fort. The fort flew the Celtic standard, and sentries could be seen along its walls. The new Commander scoffed, it seemed the Celts hoped to lure him into attacking the fort, then fall on his flank, the fort was of no concern, it could barely hold two hundred men, he had eighteen thousand. The messenger had spoken of a new indestructible war machine, and he could see them illuminated by sentry fires on top of the hill. He had many, heavy artillery pieces, which he was confident, would easily destroy this new “super weapon”, apparently, they couldn’t travel much faster than a trot, and his gunnery crews were experienced, and very good.
As day broke, Artillery from both sides began to thunder, the Celtic crews had the advantage of height, and they had had the day before to get the range of the whole battlefield. They targeted the dense pockets of Korean artillery, and managed to knock out several pieces. The Korean commander took this as a sign they were afraid of what these guns would do to their tanks. He knew there was no point in waiting, he had the numerical advantage, and despite the scary rumbling of the tank’s engines up on the bluff, he ordered his men advance. He left two thousand reservists facing the fort in case they tried to sally; there wasn’t even any artillery in the fort to worry about.
The first wave of infantry was nearly half way up the hill when five Celtic tanks started down it, they were slow at first but the gradient of the hill caused them to accelerate until they were moving at a gallop, the machines looked fit to fall apart, but they held together and fired all the time, they were very quickly into the line of infantry, and the Korean guns could not target them, the tanks completely routed the front line of troops, who were inexperienced and sent up first mainly shield the hard core troops who followed, the tanks didn’t slow as they careened down the hill scattering whole formations, their guns never stopped firing wildly, and they were devastatingly effective. Finally, one of the artillery pieces scored a direct hit, it blew the lead tank to tiny pieces, a second tank followed shortly after, and once more the general scoffed, “Indestructible indeed”, powerful or not, five such weapons are no match for a whole army.
The Commander’s aide wondered aloud “where are the other thirty-five?” The Commander shrugged, presumably behind the hill he thought, but the sound of roaring thunder sounded above even the nearby artillery and answered for him. The gates of the fort flew open and the remainder of the first Armoured Tank brigade rolled into view. They split into groups of four and headed towards the artillery positions, the reservists bolted for the forest, leaving their guns and packs where they lay. The Korean artillery was quickly disabled by the tanks main gun, while the automatic rifles swivelled in all directions, firing into the crowds of troops, waiting for the order to advance up the hill.
The Korean army had had it, they were caught within an armoured fist that was drawing tighter, At the signal, the Celtic regular army poured over the top of the hill and quickly routed the remaining troops, even hardened Korean veterans were panicking and throwing down their guns in abject surrender. Their commander had watched the disaster unfold in stony silence, repeated efforts by his subordinates to stir him were in vain, he stood transfixed by the awesome scale of what he was witnessing. His country had just lost a war on the morning they were supposed to win it. Suddenly we stalked without a word to the table, picked up a revolver and shot himself dead. Within minutes, the Celts emerged from the chaos in total victory; the new mechanical warrior was proving to be the pinnacle of five millennia of men’s petty efforts to kill more of themselves faster.
As Brennus watched the battle draw to a close, his mind was racing ahead, incredibly, his engineers could already be heard blasting in the distance, laying down rail track to Pyonsong. The Celtic muster at Breda was over; Seoul waited two days to the west. His forty tanks had just overcome odds of 4 to 1 against, and he had just been told the second and third armoured brigades had arrived at Breda. This was a good day.
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01-04-2004 00:07
I hope to see more soon.
I think this is the writer trying to hurry the story but actually loses the story in the process. If you need to edit then reduce the long-winded aftermath part or build-up (I like build-up too but aftermath is not interest), not the meat of the story (less bun okay but keep the meat, never keep bun but reduce meat).
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