Or, A Day At Sittangbad
Stokes - do not read the following. Otherwise I will creep into your house at 2 AM and re-arrange your troops to my advantage.
General de Latte sipped his favoured coffee with hot milk and surveyed the sketch map one of his disgracefully sweaty roaming aides had slapped with grubby hands onto his portable campaign table. Mistress Ophelia* stirred resentfully among the disordered sheets and bolsters of his campaign four-post bed and mumbled something about the annoying cannon fire.
Ignoring her he smoothed the paper and glared at it in his best military fashion.
I can either launch the Hussars into von Tschatschke's** gunners before he can deploy to fire, OR thow them into the flank of those Leib Grenadiers. I could take the light company of the Mittau infantry, put them in open order and discomfort the gunners anyway whilst throwing the remainder of them at the Leib Grenadiers after they have been disordered by the cavalry melee.
Or, radical thought, send them through the gunners, and have them make for the bridge. The rest of the army could pin the Stollens frontally. Mittau could follow in support.
And what of O'Malley's Irish Grenze? A target-rich environment for them, as they say. At the least they could cause the enemy cavalry casualties. At best, who knows? Once all the Zichenauer Infantry get stuck in, we could in potential see a double-envelopment of the Stollen main force.
Note to self - must preserve sufficient force to break into Sittangbad proper.
*More of her anon.
** How on Earth do you pronounce that name? Shats-key? Germans, eh?