Friday, 29 May 2015

Peace once more. Wedding bells end the war.
In an act of reconciliation and political expediency the opposing alliances have sealed a peace treaty following the marriage of Baron Bomburst's nephew Dietrich (a hare-lipped dullard previously used by his family as a hat stand) and the Dowager Countess of Groan's grand niece, Lucretia (proud possessor of an unfeasibly high forehead and a double squint). Following the four day wedding service, during which there were thankfully no fatalities, treaties were signed and new trade agreements negotiated. Should the loving couple be blessed with any healthy, if inevitably hideous offspring, it is to be hoped that these too will serve to strengthen the peace between all of the nations so long embittered in war.

The Battle of Daynewmorn

The forces of Vulgaria and Borogrovia clashed one more time on the plains of Daynewmorn. On these windswept vistas there is no shelter from the biting Nor’easterlies nor is there is naught nothing from the Nor’westerlies neither.

The Borogrovia commander lined his army up with typical precision and awaited the Vulgarian onslaught.

 The Borogrovian right flank looks a little on the sparse side.

                                                                      Big Vern pulls his hat down against the worsening breeze.


True to form the Baron let fly with his formidable left and the Landwehr swung onto the Borogrovian right which was being hastily reinforced.

                                                                        Peter von Frechtling leads the way.

At last! The Borogrovian gunners are given their long awaited opportunity to show what they can do.

They do - and miss.

                    While the gunners bemoan their insufficient ordnance the colonel blames their lack of balls.

With the loss of 3 regiments without reply and the Vulgarians poised to deliver the knock out blow, Big Vern does the decent thing and requests the Honours of War.

Wednesday, 20 May 2015

The cavalry skirmish at Sticiwiquette
Extract form the letters of Capt von Trapp of the Duchess’ Hussars

Dear Maria,
Am currently recuperating after a bizarre day in the field near the village of Sticiwiquette. First thing in the morning we were all lined up to have another pop at those cowardly Corvoninas.

 We cavalry were up on the right flank and on top of a small rise in order to best watch what the snotties were doing. 

The infantry were carrying out some brisk manoeuvres behind while the Baron barked obscenities at them, all pretty standard stuff.

Meanwhile the enemy had arrayed himself in multiple columns in the centre with their cavalry directly opposite us.

We were expecting a pretty long series of marches and formation changes before things got hot. I had taken my feet out of the stirrups and was stretching my legs and young Rolf Gruber, our Cornet, had brought a pocket breakfast and gave me a bit of his sausage, but suddenly all hell broke loose.The beastly Corvonian cavalry broke into a gallop and before you could say Do-Re-Mi they were onto us.
It was a pretty stiff fight I don’t mind saying with plenty of toing and froing. The uhlans broke and ran and I saw Hans Zeller and Max Detweiler fall. You remember Max don’t you? Big fellow, wife has a lazy eye. Anyway after a few exhortations from our beloved colonel Herr Creasey we put the blackguards to flight.

Then the strangest thing happened. As we were in pursuit we fell upon a lonely figure way ahead of the enemy lines. As his mouth opened and closed like a landed carp I realised that it was none other the Grand Linctus himself. With a yelp he turned his steed and galloped as if Lucifer himself was on his tail. We were all blown after the fight so let him go.. and go.. and go. In fact he quit the field completely much to, I imagine, the chagrin of the rest of his army which turned around and headed for home.

So that was that. We took the wounded back to the convent at Sticiwiquette where they were well cared for. I’m pleased to say that Max Detweiler survived his wounds which is fortunate as he owes me money. He’s a fine lancer but can’t play cards to save his life.
Hope you are all well, kiss the children for me. Try to leave the curtains alone and no bloody singing!
Your loving husband,