A bit of writing...

[Pippin]

I realized I havent done any writing in the last few years (at least hardly any). So today I thought i'd draft something up for amusement. Hopefuly it may be interresting to some EIA players out there. If anyone wishes to extend it, or complain about the strategy please feel free too. (Or point out numerous grammar errors too!)

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Nelson eyed the Spanish fleet out in the open. They had made their mistake, finally. After over a year of patiently watching, the time had come. Soon, the moment would come, the defeating blow to the Spanish fleets. They were the primary threat to England at the moment, or so Nelson believed from his viewpoint.

At the beginning of 1805, England had entrusted Nelson to protect their seas. He had given them his promise that as long as he were alive, the English coast would be protected. He was after all, the best naval leader there was. No one else knew the wind gauge like he did, nor would bring home extra victory points from battle. It was a two sided edge sometimes, if he lost a battle, Nelson knew for sure his country would lose extra political points as well.

The copses, were another issue altogether. Wellington had demanded to get the cavalry and guards built up as soon as possible. He also wanted every single corps counter purchased which the country could muster. The war department had agreed, and in so, had over-ruled Nelson’s request for more ships of the line to be built. Instead, every extra manpower had been ordered to raise more corps factors.

The bad news about not getting the heavy ships Nelson wanted, was understandable. Britain already had, after all, the best and largest navy there was. Perhaps, they could make it throughout the entire campaign without needing to build any further. However, this would take a lot of careful planning.

Just across the channel, stood a stack of French corpses on the area of Lille. Month by month, it seemed as though another counter would be added there. Directly across from that on English soil, Wellington stood by as their own counters slowly continued to grow and fill with factors.

The guards and cavalry corpses were filled to the max, and the rest of the counters were being maxed out with infantry. There were no militia present, this worried some for the moment, but Wellington insisted he wanted the moral as high as possible for now. Adding too many weak militia he claimed, lowers moral and causes an army to break in battle.

The naval commander stood there pondering the argument. He was not sure, if this philosophy was sound. After all, better to have an army break than have it get decimated. But alas, he was not a corpse leader, it was not his job to determine land battle doctrine. However, he did worry greatly about the growing French stack. While it was easy to count up all the factors the French fleets contained, it was anyone’s guess how many France had located in the Lille stack.

One of the biggest differences between naval and corpse battles, was the unpredictability. When fighting on the seas, ports, or blockade boxes, you always knew how many port-guns the battle area had. You also always knew how many ships were located in each fleet, and what their type were. When you clashed, there was a little bit of uncertainty, it was hard to predict the wind gauge, and the actual battle rolls also had their variances. But other than that, it was all, mathematical, or so Nelson believed.

When clashing with corpses, things became very uncertain, and often caotic. It was damn hard for even the best generals to know the true strength of enemy corpse counters. One of the only things you could be really certain about, was it’s type, and location. But whether it had a thousand men, or 8000 could be anyone’s guess.

Once you clashed, then the true strength of an enemy would be know, however, this info would be too late to make a difference for the phasing commanders. But to further add confusion, you never could tell what chits your opponent would select either. Not knowing the strength, or battle plans of your opponent often resulted in the unexpected. Then to further add in some complications, there was always those dice the Gods rolled on the battlefields.

It was not uncommon for the most inexperienced leaders to even disintegrate a very expensive, and experienced army. This poker style effect of battling, was not something Nelson liked. Hence, he would always be a naval leader, and that is what he did best.

The main worry in Nelson’s mind since the beginning of 1805 had been the possibility of an alliance between Spain and the French, then a plan for them to put Britain out of the game. So far, this had not been the case. Luckily for them, the French had been fighting towards the opposite end of the board. Word spread that Austria and Prussia had got mauled pretty good, but the Russians and even Turkey had recently joined into the fire.

But the French had been playing it safe, back home they continued to reinforce the area near Lille. It did not take a genius to see that the English stack on the other side of the channel would easily be able to just walk across and have easy access to French soil. But alas, this was also a double sided sword. The French also would have the ability to practically march across onto English soil. Wellington foresaw this, and used the threat as the main reason why England must focus on raising troops more so than ships.

In the event France decided to waltz into English soil, the Brits would be certainly outgunned at this point. However, there was a backup plan. As long as the navy could secure the channel, there would be no easy march across it, and France would be restricted to other options. The channel would be no problem to secure, or so the defense department thought. If France declared war, while they had the advantage of being able to move their copses first, Britain had the advantage of moving the Navy first. Since Nelson had ordered ahead of time to keep one light fleet guarding the channel, there would be no chance for France to pull off a quick invasion.

Spain, had tried to play things safe. Not allying with anyone, she wanted to play neutral and be left alone. The plan had worked, everyone had left Spain alone the entire year, until now. When word had reached London about the Spanish fleet being vulnerable in the open, the declaration of war had been stated at the diplomatic table. Since Spain had no allies, there would not be any extra repercussions to worry about, at least not for the time being.

When the Naval phase began, every heavy ship fleet steered towards the Spanish stack. These were then followed by the rest of the light fleets, while leaving one behind to still guard the channel. The transport fleet also was left behind, it remained docked in a secure port guarded by numerous port-guns. If anyone wanted it, the costs would be quite large to do so.

The popular naval leader took command of the 1’st Heavy Fleet. Standing on deck, he waited until all the rest of the battle fleets joined the stack. For a moment, both navies just seemed to float there, eyeing each other, knowing the inevitable battle that lay before them. It was time to teach Spain who was boss of the seas.

And then, the Battle began. The dice Gods had been somewhat fair to the Brits. A roll of 3 had been envisioned to them across the sky. A three was not too bad, nor too hot either. However, due to Nelson’s experience with engagements, a +1 modifier would be applied to his favour. Thus, the odds for winning the wind gauge had been given to them so far.

There was a slight adrenaline rush along the decks when the dice Gods rolled for the Spanish. They did have a chance still to win the wind gauge. Perhaps it would not let them win the battle, but alas, it would no doubt cause the end result to be much different.

The Gods rolled, and up came a two. A lousy position for the Spanish to be in, they had no choice now but to take the brunt of the battle. It now looked doubtful if there would be even much of the Spanish fleet left to save by the end of the day. No doubt, the French looking on would only be happy to see both navies take heavy losses this month.

Instantly the Brits attacked, another 3 rolled across the seas. This was later modified by all the English bonuses, and before the Spanish knew what hit them, over half the fleet seemed to be aflame before they could even exchange fire.

The smile never left Nelson’s face that battle, it even remained there when the Spanish returned fired. The fleet had been so devastated, that the Brits only lost a couple light ships. It was a shame about losing those ships, but it was an excellent trade. The few light ships could be replaced later, but the Spanish had lost most of their navy. They would never recover from this blow, especially with France right at her boarder. No doubt, she would be forced to spend every dollar and manpower to spare trying to reinforce her borders.

Some of the brass aboard the 1st Heavy Fleet began to congratulate Nelson on deck about his large victory. They would now be bringing home 4 victory points from this one battle alone. More so, than enough to offset the points they lost for declaring the war. And soon, they believed, another 5 victory points would be on the horizon as soon as Spain decided to come to her senses and surrender unconditionally.

While glad and at ease, Nelson was somewhat doubtful. While Britain was safe on her little piece of land away from the mainland of her enemies, there was still the matter of Gibraltar. It had been well garrisoned but, the Spanish were marching on towards it, they would, no doubt take it. This, he felt certain, despite the confidence of everyone else…


TO BE CONTINUED..

[Pippin]

Ok I was a tad more awake this time.... (I hope).


PART II


During the last few days, the shores of Spain became crowded with onlookers. Even children lined up to gawk at the godforsaken fleets which had limped home as fast as they could. Once displayed with pride, the ships now docked motionless in shame. They seamed to be drifting over their final resting place.

Not a single mast appeared to be undamaged. It was as though an entire mauling had occurred on the navy. Now, all that remained were injured floating carcasses, watched over by the protective port guns. While morale tried to remain high, it was doubtful if this navy would ever see the day of another convoy before the war was out.

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Costanos had called for retaliation when the messenger brought the bad news. An attack by the British on the fleet had been unexpected. What business did they have with Spain, especially while they had been having a cold war all this time with the French?

Blake had also been caught off-guard. Between the two leaders, they had always assumed France would be their main problem. It was due to this reason that both had been up North patrolling the provinces to block any invasion attempts. They had speculated many things, and taken many precautions, but the latest escapade had been something unpredicted.

Upon being notified of the situation, Blake was immediately dispatched down south. “They may rule the seas, but at least we can win the battles where they count,” he boasted. He rode his armies hard, straight toward Gibraltar.

“Those foolish Brits,” he later wrote to Costanos, “by their act of war they have guaranteed the loss of any minors within reach of Spain. I shall give them enough of a lesson that they will regret ever hearing of the country Spain.”

Back on the north patrol, Costanos wished his longtime friend good luck. He had confidence in the old leader. There was no doubt that Gibraltar would soon fall once Blake had arrived with his corps. It was quite feasible that the British would predict Gibraltar as their next target, and they would be garrisoning it well. The two leaders, however, were confident that even the best attempts by their newly made enemy would not hold it out for too long.

Reaching over for the latest list of reinforcements to arrive, Costanos suddenly froze. Something was wrong, definitely wrong. The war cabinet in England had been one step ahead of them all this time. What if they were still a step or two ahead?

Soon, a lot of pondering and second-guessing went through the leader’s mind as he stared at a map of Europe. If the Brits knew Spain would detach a few corps to overtake Gibraltar, then they would surely try to use this to their advantage, but how? Perhaps they intended to land near north, once the troops in the area were diluted. But then, why north?

Another jostle went through Costanos’s body. “The fleets!” he yelled. “The fleets are docked at Corunna!” Yes, of course. The Brits would attempt to do an amphibious landing and control the harbor. Once they got control of the port, Spain would never see their own fleet again. No doubt they would be scuttled before the garrisons knew what hit them.

The ink splashed against the paper as the cautious leader hastily scribbled out the warning. In the priority message, he made it clear the fleet had to be moved immediately toward a safer area. Since the Spanish government had foolishly decided it needed no allies early in the war, there was nowhere else to go except for farther south. The new location needed to be reinforced as soon as possible, and prepared to face an amphibious landing by the enemy; that was an official order.

It wasn’t long before the leader’s corps were notified of a new march coming up. They would be moving west toward the shoreline. While the messenger had already run off with the general’s new orders, the commander still felt it was too late. No doubt, by the time the rest of Spain was informed of the situation, the British would already be at the currently used harbor. Perhaps they would not bother landing yet, but they certainly would move in a few of their fleets and patrol the blockade box. The beat-up Spanish ships would be forced to sit in the docks, while the English sailors maintained their blockade until the landings would commence and it was all over.

If there was one thing the corps under the general would do, it would be to meet any invaders in a face to face confrontation. Yes, Britain had planned very cleverly, but did they have a plan to face a stack of Spanish corps? The leader began to feel more confident. Yes, perhaps it would even be smart to allow the ships to get blockaded. Spain could play weak and dumb for the moment. The British had no idea how many factors his corps counters contained. Perhaps they would turn the tables, and exchange a surprising and defeating blow. Definitely. If Spain could capture a British leader or two, that was even better. If there was one thing the English were known to do, it was bartering for their captured leaders.


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A month passed, but there had been no sign of an attempted British blockade. The Spanish fleets had made a run down south and were now secured in a port farther away from the enemy. While still marching toward the shoreline, Costanos halted his corps and decided to revise his plan and the current situation.

Something was still wrong, he thought. It would make no sense to do an amphibious landing now, as there were no real prizes. Besides, there was still the cold war going on between the two major powers. Britain would need all the spare counters she could get and worry about loading them up with factors to the max.

Perhaps he had overestimated them. Perhaps the war cabinet in England only wanted to damage the fleets as a protection policy for future convoys. Maybe it was a lesson to be taught, “Stay home or face the consequences.” Maybe it really was just as simple as that. It was possible.

It was then that another messenger delivered a copy from the latest diplomatic papers. One of them was of utter importance, to be read immediately regarding the French.

The wise leader’s heart sank. In a heartbeat, he knew what was in it. No doubt, France decided to ease off on the war in the East, and bring it south on Spain’s borders. Now that her forces were further cut with the latest escapade. Perhaps it was a trick all along with the English. They were probably allies by now, and both marching their stacks side by side down through French territory, ready to sweep any Spanish resistance once across the border.

“So THAT is why they didn’t land with transports!” he exclaimed to the messenger, “They were planning to march across the land all along. And now, we have nothing between us and our northern border, while Blake still marches even farther south! We are getting weaker by the day where we need troops the most.”

The young messenger boy had a puzzled look on his face, “Sir?”

“The British and the French, are going to invade my dear boy, don’t you see it?” said the general in another outburst.

Once again the boy had a puzzled look on his face. “Sir, with all due respect, have you been drinking?” It was a statement no normal messenger would ever dare say to a leader, unless there was a very good excuse.

The general stood there for a moment, looking at the boy and wondering if he really had been drinking the bottle and forgot about it. It would be very embarrassing, not to mention unprofessional of a general, if it were true. If word started to get out that he had begun to use the bottle again, it could be disastrous to his commanding career.

The boy then continued, “Costanos, I have papers here from the French. During the last diplomacy phase, they wanted to ally with us. As of now, Spain is an official ally of France! Sir!”

There was another long pause after hearing the last statement. Then a smile slowly crossed over the general’s face. “Well my dear boy, perhaps we shall drink tonight indeed! I sense the British are about to also learn what it is like to get backstabbed!”



TO BE CONTINUED…