1636_ The Saxon Uprising - Eric Flint [154]
Finally, he slowed down enough to take a deep breath. “The point’s this, Mr. Hussar-who-isn’t. You have no idea what a military force is really capable of, when it’s organized. The general won’t even try to match Banér, maneuvering on a nice open field. That’s why he launched his campaign in the middle of February. What general in his right mind wants to fight in the teeth of winter? I’ll tell you—a general who knows his enemy has more experience but his soldiers don’t have boots that are worth a shit. Whose soldiers have a crappy morale because they’re mercenaries and no mercenary in his right mind wants to fight a winter campaign. I know the general. Right now, he’s probably praying for another snowstorm—because that’s when he’ll attack Banér.”
“But…” Jozef was half-appalled and—by now—half-fascinated. “How will he control his troops, in a snowstorm?”
“Never heard of radios? Of course, you have. By now, everyone’s heard of radios. Even you Poles use them, I’ve heard. But you don’t have that many of them, do you? And the ones you do have, you don’t use very well, do you? Because you don’t really think that way, do you?”
The lieutenant shrugged. “But the general won’t even be counting so much on his radios. He’ll be counting on the fact that if he tells his men to fight in a snowstorm, they will damn well fight in a snowstorm—and they’ll fight to win. They’ll come right at Banér’s thugs, marching in good boots and not freezing half to death. Most of all, they won’t care so much whether they’re being maneuvering properly because they’re not thinking that way in the first place. That Swedish bastard damn well needs to be put down, and the Third Division will damn well do it. Right here, right now. And then what happens?”
Jozef finally saw where he was going. “Banér’s men will start coming back into their lines. Whether Banér wants them to or not.” He frowned. “That’ll only happen, though, if your fellow Stearns maneuvers at least well enough to keep them against the river.”
Krenz’s sneer was now open. “I said the general didn’t hold much with fancy maneuvers. I didn’t say he couldn’t tell the difference between north, south, east and west. Don’t worry, Wojtowicz.” He pointed out one of the windows. “We’ve talked it over—all of us regular army lieutenants, I mean—and we’re pretty damn sure that’s what the general will try to do. He might not do it exactly that way, of course. Nobody can predict the weather, just for starters. But we’re sure he’ll do something like that. Which means that one way or another, sooner or later, Banér is most likely going to try to regroup by using his existing siege lines as defensive works. And that’s when we’d do a sortie. When he’s least expecting it because he’s pre-occupied with the Third Division, and when it’d do the most good.”
Jozef thought about it, while running fingers through his hair. He couldn’t deny there was a certain…
Well, not charm, exactly. But the young USE lieutenant’s enthusiasm was infectious. All the more so because Jozef knew Krenz well enough to know that the man was not given to thoughtless martial enthusiasms. He tended to be a skeptic about the military virtues, in fact. Not derisive as such, but not entirely respectful either.
If someone like Krenz was this full of confidence—even eagerness—when it came to fighting Banér’s professionals…
Suddenly, all of Jozef’s doubts and misgivings vanished. No doubt there was something truly absurd about the Polish grand hetman’s spymaster leading a charge for USE rebels, but he no longer cared. He had been trained as a hussar, and apparently there was still a small hurt lurking in his heart that he’d never been allowed that honor. Koniecpolski had never treated him like a bastard in his personal dealings, but he had used Jozef that way in