Conrad's Last Campaign (31 page)

That much black powder makes a spectacular explosion. The gate and a big section of wall around it disappeared and we were through before the dust settled. I doubt that anyone in this century had seen an explosion that big.

There wasn’t much resistance inside, but there also wasn’t much cover. We were depending on surprise to get us across the quarter mile of empty land between us and the Palace before they could open up. The Mongols had trenched the area just inside the walls with trenches wide enough to stop any normal horses, but the Big People just stepped over them. The same would happen to the fence at the far side of the field. Any place that it hadn’t been smashed by our artillery, a Big Person could jump. Ahead of us and to the right was a small rail yard holding mostly burned out cars. There were perhaps twenty or thirty yurts still standing, but I doubt that anyone was riding out our artillery barrage in a yurt.

Baron Gorski led one company on a wide sweep to the right, clearing the wall of defenders and sweeping any defenders from the rail yard to make certain we weren’t going to be hit from behind while I charged across the open space toward the Palace. Our first objective was the inner palace wall. The plan was to get there, dismount, establish a base, and then move forward under artillery cover. Before we could do that, we needed to get a radio into a safe position

We made it almost to the palace wall before we hit any serious resistance, then the trooper beside me dropped out of his saddle. I glanced over long enough to see that another trooper was slumped over his saddle, but still riding. More men began to drop.

The bastards were using my swivel guns! Unlike their usual black powder guns, those swivel guns could go though chain mail like newspaper and even drop a knight from a hundred yards. We moved even faster to get over under the cover of the perimeter wall and I began to wish we had left more of it standing. We dismounted, found cover, and looked over the wall. The palace was a lot shorter than it had been three days before, but it was built on a large earth and masonry foundation that extended out in every direction. The Mongols had moved their guns to the foundation and shielded them behind mounds of rubble.

We were still pinned down when a line of artillery fire suddenly marched across the base of the palace, taking out the gun emplacements, the guns, and considerable pieces of palace. That’s when I realized that I was in a modern war. The Flying Cloud was watching the battle from overhead. She must have seen we were pinned down and told the artillery where to drop shells.

It seemed like a good time to leave. I raised my sword, yelled “For God. For
Poland. For plunder!” and charged at the palace. Fortunately my men took the hint and followed me. It wasn’t until I ran into my first Mongol that I realized that I was still holding the useless sword in my right hand and switched to my Sten gun. Stens are fast, but it just isn’t as much fun killing a Mongol with a bullet as it is with a good sharp sword.

The palace was pretty much flattened along with most of the defenders. We spent an hour scouring the base looking for a basement or underground bunkers, but we found nothing. I suppose it made sense. The khan was probably at his summer camp and with him gone, this was just a big flammable building barely worth defending.

There were several mansions spread out between the palace and the rest of the town. Baron Gorski rode his men through each of them, but there didn’t seem to be anyone left alive in the wreckage. By the time I left the palace, he was already past the interior walls and into the commercial area of the city.

As we swept though the small rail yard, my men formed up on both sides of me and we jumped to wall into the inner city in one long line. I heard gunfire on both sides of me as the troopers exchanged shots with scattered defenders. There was no serious resistance as I led them down a burning valley that was once a street. Most buildings were already reduced to smoldering ruins, but occasionally one would still burn brightly. When we reached the main east – west artery and turned toward the treasure houses, I saw that Ryszard had dropped machine gun wagons and squads at each of the major intersections. There were a lot or dead Mongols behind the barriers in the streets. They had ditched and blocked every major street, but hadn’t known just how big a tree trunk a Big Person could jump. It looked like the troopers had just galloped through, surprising and killing everything they met.

Any wounded troopers had been evacuated, but occasion pieces of discarded armor and saddles showed the battle had not been all one sided. Some of that blood was ours.

Ryszard had set up his headquarters in a plaza set between two warehouses. He was sitting on a salvaged desk dropped between two hedges, taking messages from runners and sending out orders. His face and clothing held the bloody marks of a warrior who does more than give orders. Above the message he was reading, a corpsman had already stitched up a wound on his bicep.

As I approached, he looked up, “Hetman, Sire. I just sent a message to Ivanov telling him to start bringing in his wagons for the khan’s inventory.” About then, an explosion behind him made us all duck, “I guess the troopers couldn’t find the keys to the gate. Your grace, you may want to look over the treasure houses yourself. Your plans leave us very little time to loot what we need and burn the rest. Tread careful, sire, there are still some mad Mongols lurking nearby.”

“I think I will take a quick look at the fabled treasury, but how is the rest of the battle progressing”

“Its about over. The Mongols seriously underestimated the mobility of a man on his Big Person, so we just powered through. Caught most of them by surprise. Of course we don’t have enough men to search five square miles of burning buildings, but there can’t be many alive in the ashes. We’ll do as much damage and steal as much plunder as we can and leave before dark.”

The sound of gunfire in the distance promised more adventure, but who wouldn’t want to see a khan’s fabulous treasure. Problem is that it wasn’t all that fabulous. When you got past the foyer and entered the warehouse it was just a warehouse. Boxes and bundles were stacked everywhere on shelves and the floor. The warehouse was full of blankets and robes and bolts of cloth. It held crates filled with pots and pans, stacks of rugs, fancy dishes from
China, saddles, and household goods. I should have realized this was treasure that the khan used to reward his people for their loyalty, and they didn’t need golden idols and trees of silver in their yurts

By the time I left the first warehouse, the Quartermasters corps had already started inventorying the other four warehouses. With smoke from a burning city swirling around us and the occasional artillery round falling, the Christian Army was already shopping.

I was still sitting on the warehouse steps reading the reports when Ivanov led a line of wagons through the recently opened gate and a company of mounted infantry fanned out to make certain that his boys weren’t distracted. By the time the first wagons were lined up at the loading docks, quartermaster troops were coming out of the warehouses with lists of supplies to be loaded.

It turned out that one of the warehouses stored food from
China. Ivanov was already loading up wheat, rice, oranges and dried fish for our own use. One of the remaining warehouses was actually a treasury, and even though it had been partially emptied before we got there, we were able to confiscate several wagon loads of gold and jewels. We left the tons of Chinese money, because I had no idea where we would spend bronze coins.

The report on the last warehouse got my attention. It held personal weapons for the Mongol citizens. The muskets and bullets were mostly gone, as were the swords. There were however, a substantial number of bows left behind and thousands of arrows. In fact, there were tens of thousands of arrows. Apparently they became surplus when the Mongols got rifles. Most of it would burn, but I sent a note to Ivanov to save as many of the arrows as possible. I had an idea that might make them more valuable than gold.

As the wagons were filled, they joined the steady stream of men and equipment moving out to our new camp. As it became obvious that my presence was totally unnecessary in Karakorum, I turned over my command to Ryszard and joined the twenty mile long formation again moving out to our new camp.

Letter from Sir Polanski, Knight Banner in the Eagles to his fiancé. Never delivered.

We finally have some excitement. Leon and I were intercepted on our way to bed and told to get our flight gear together and report to the flight line. We grabbed our gear and then had to weave past campfires to get to the flight lines. Our ground crews were already fueling our planes when we got there, and as we began the preflight checks more mechanics and staff began to stumble into the light.

Unfortunately, the model threes are not night fighters and we didn’t even have a single light on the runways, so no one had any idea of why we were there. Then I heard the sound of motors overhead and looked up to see the stars go out over one of canyon walls. Suddenly a bright light poured out of a door in the sky and ropes holding seamen dropped from above. One of the men landed next to me and gestured for me to raise my arms. He looped a rope under my armpits and yelled “hang on” as someone jerked me into the sky.

When we reached the cargo deck, a sailor that I recognized pushed me toward the front of the ship, “Your old bunks are waiting. Get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

We took the hint and got out of the way while the crew dropped through the hatch to lash up our planes. They had used a special cradle to load the planes in Poland and they must be having a hell of time doing it in the middle of a battlefield.

No one had time to talk to us but the beds were as good as ever. You know I’ve been able to sleep anywhere since basic training, but sleeping on a rigidible in flight is pure Heaven. About half an hour later the engines started up and the steady hum of the engines and the floating motion of the ship makes it better than sleeping in the womb. I didn’t even worry about where we were going.

’Course the problem was that it was still the damned navy, so they got us up before dawn. A sailor handed us loaves of cheese filled bread and canteens of hot tea and then took us to the forward observation bubble. The captain looked over briefly and then pointed down at a row of lights moving like a giant caterpillar, stretching out to the horizon. “Those are Mongol trains. The lights are the engines. Think of them more like high pressure steam kettles that will react poorly to bullet holes. If we can cripple the lead engines, that turns into fifty miles of parked rail cars and gives the boys up north a little more time.

Mongols have never seen a fighting plane, so if you work fast, you should be able to cripple a dozen or so engines before anyone gets around to shooting back.

If it gets hot, get out. We might be able to live without your skins, but we’re going to need those planes later."

The navigator unrolled a map and pointed to a spot. “You’re about 275 miles south of
Karakorum. Home base is not straight north, but if you follow the tracks north they’ll lead you home. Stay above the tracks! We’ll be behind you so if you run out of fuel we’ll find you and drop a barrel of gas. However, that’s not friendly territory down there so we’d prefer you made it all the way home on your own.

You’re at the extreme limit of your range, so, if you’re going to make it home, you’ve only got about fifteen minutes before you have to start heading north. Make the most of them.

We’ll drop you as soon as it is light enough to make out a target. Oh, I’d also advise you to make your attack runs from the west, to keep from being silhouetted in the sun. With luck, you might be invisible for a little longer."

So, with the happy thoughts that the planes were more valuable than the two of us, and we’d probably run out of gas on the way home, and that we were going to attack a few hundred thousand Mongols with four machine guns, two planes, and pluck, we headed back to our planes.

It was pitch black when they handed me my rations bag and lowered me down into my plane, but by the time I stored my supplies and put your picture on the dash, a slight glow formed in the east. They dropped us due west of the lead engine as soon as it was light enough to make out forms in the gloom.

You know I love that sudden drop when the hooks let go and the plane heals over into a slow dive. We let our engines idle and dropped almost silently down to the shadowy treetops. Then we made our first pass slowly to give us more time to punch holes before we climbed out. I took the lead engine and
Leon was a quarter mile on my right headed for the second in line. It was still too dark to see color, but the shiny golden chimneys on the engines and the fire leaking from the stacks made easy targets. I held the trigger down until I could see steam escaping, so much steam that I felt the wet heat as I flew over.

Then out, bank right, and head for the third and fourth engines. By this time doors were opening and men were pouring out of the cars, but none of them even knew what direction to look. By the time we made our third pass, the light was good enough to show the bright red paint and gold trim on the engines. Made them easy to find.

I skipped the next engine because there wasn’t much point in putting bullets into a train that was already firmly stuffed up the butt of the train in front of it. I hope he wasn’t only one who had a hard time stopping. At the end of the next pass, we were low on ammo and really low on time, and I think that some of them were actually starting to shoot in our direction. I motioned to Leon to follow me into a steep climb.

I decided that there was enough confusion down below to make a final pass safe. They were probably still paying more attention to getting the trains stopped than looking for us, so we each made a long pass from the back to the front of a train, putting a few rounds into any car that looked different, trying to spread around the wealth.

I was lucky enough to hit a powder car, and unlucky enough to be just about over it when it blew. The concussion would have thrown me through the upper wing if it weren’t for my seatbelt. The explosion put a rip in the fabric near my right foot and a couple of rips in the lower right wing, but I was still airworthy. We Poles make tough machines.

We passed the front of the train, climbed to comfortable altitude, and relaxed. There was nothing around for miles except rolling hills and the railroad track winding below. All that was left was to adjust my speed for maximum range, settle back in my seat, and start a letter to you. Remind me to suggest a reclining seat as the next improvement for planes. My back is starting to ache.

As I write this letter, my mind is on our future. It should be a good one. Of course, I’ll get my combat pay and a promotion for volunteering, but the word is that all of the flyers will get a small share of the booty the army has already picked up. The grunts tell me they picked up literally tons of gold from Sarai. They’re looting Karakorum today and we should soon have a share of tons of brass and steel when we dispatch the wearers to Chinese heaven. Now that Henryk won’t be getting the Royal Third, our shares could be even higher. The Hetman has always been generous with his men.

I know you like life on base, but we won’t be in the Christian Army forever and this one trip should pay for a county estate.

More from Conrad

I arrived at the new camp as part of a miles long stream of men. My personal lance was preceded and trailed by men in clanking armor, as we rode past cart after creaking cart. Entering the camp was like entering a medieval city. The air was already filled with the odors of cooking food, sweaty men, hot leather, and horses.

Our new home was well chosen. The west end, closest to where the Chinese should appear closed down to less than a half mile wide and the east side opening was even smaller. The side walls could be climbed from either side, but it would be a slow and difficult ascent. There was river down the middle of the canyon and a lake for when the Mongols damned the river. When I arrived, the work was already well under way. In a half a day, the grunts had dug a ditch and raised a defensive embankment across ninety percent of the opening. By the end of the day, a second ditch would be in place and fighting towers would be appearing. The ditches had to be deep to prevent the Mongols from filling them with dead Chinese troops and waking across the dead bodies.

The camp was set up more compact that usual but, even after we crossed the boundaries, my tent was two or three miles down the river. It was set up right next to a large but deserted county house. The Polish flag flew from the top of the building and the word “Headquarters” was painted over the door. Megan was waiting for us, “Welcome, My Master. The building is good enough for meetings, but not very comfortable, so we set your tent up here and heated your bath.” I was grateful for the bath, but it was a little uncomfortable. Although she smiled and bowed as friendly as ever, Shauna damn near took my skin off when she scrubbed my back, smile or no smile. I decided she would have to have a little extra attention that night.

It would have to be later, however, as the evening was filled with plans, drawings, and meetings. Since I couldn’t be certain when the Mongols would be here with their Chinese army, I had to plan in order of importance. We’d start at the top of the list and keep working until people were shooting at us.

First thing was to ditch the entrance to the canyon. I was certain that the first two ditches were done on the western end, but I had not asked about the eastern end of the canyon. When the first two ditches and embankments were done, we’d have to a line of elevated firing platforms behind them and a line of machine gun foxholes actually at the top of the innermost embankment. Caesar’s troops did something similar every night, but the lucky bastards were fighting in a forest. We were going to have to use dirt and rocks for most of our defenses.

As soon as the ends were sealed, we had to secure the walls. The first people on top of the hill owned it, so we would start sending lances with machine guns up the steep canyon walls in the morning. They would have a Hell of an advantage over anyone trying to climb up from the outside, but only if they were already dug in. They would also need some good sharpshooters with them.

I was certain that the Mongols could eventually get past the first barricades. We had lots of ammo, but they had a lot of cheap soldiers they didn’t mind getting dead, so, if we got another day, we’d build another set of ditches and walls about a quarter mile inside the first one. The second set would be a saw tooth pattern like a snowflake fort. Each wall would be able to give supporting fire to its neighbors. We’d clear out that quarter mile stretch between walls to make certain that there wasn’t a tree or a rock for the Chinese to hide behind while they crossed it.

That would give us an outer defensive line, an inner defensive line and a killing field in between.

Kowalski would place some of his more mobile pieces right behind the first wall so he could reach out further and harass the enemy rear, but he wanted to place most of his artillery behind second wall, where he would be able reach out to the enemy and still stay out of reach if the wall was breached.

We also needed crews up in the hill as artillery spotters. I figured that we could dismount two radios from their carts and manhandle one up each hill for the hill watchers, but we weren’t going to be able to get a radio up to every watch stand. The first idea was to use naval flag codes but we immediately realized that anyone waving colored flags would be nice target for snipers and artillery. A few more ideas came and went before one of my radio techs said that they probably had enough wire, batteries, and spare parts to put together a half dozen field phones. It worked in WWI, but they didn’t know that.

There were a hundred other details, but our Achilles heel was the other end of the canyon. We had a little more time there because it would take the Mongols at least another day to reach it. Of course, we’d protect it, but we couldn’t afford a full defense on both ends. Kowalski had the best idea. His suggestion was that we put enough force at the eastern end to delay any invader for an hour of so and concentrate on marking out and smoothing roads from one end of the canyon to another. Big People could get a force there in less than an hour. They were fast. If there was a smoothed out path, the artillery could be there less than an hour later.

Despite the late hour and my overwhelming fatigue, I did do my best to comfort Shauna when I finally got to bed. It took longer than I could afford.

My night had been filled with dreams of battle and nightmares about what could go wrong. I rushed through my morning rituals and met with Count Wladyclaw and Kolomel Eikmann over breakfast. They must have been less nervous than me, because they were eating while I drew a diagram of our valley on the table and started talking. “We’re going to have a fighting front of thousand yards on this end of the valley, and not more than about eight hundred on the other end. We’ve been talking about how this is good because the Mongols won’t be able to use their numbers to overwhelm us, but that also gives us the advantage and the problem that we can’t get much more than fifteen or twenty percent of our people on the line at one time.

We have two problems to address today. Sir Eikmann, you’ve done a good job getting our first two barriers in place. However, we need to give special attention to stepped firing positions. We need to get as many guns on target as we can without shooting our own men, and that means setting up one or two gun platforms higher than the front line and shooting over their heads.

We also need to start practicing a Roman rotation move. The Roman Army used to set up a tight front ten men deep and then rotate soldiers from the front to the back position every few minutes. That way, they always had fresh hacking arms facing increasingly tired opponents. We don’t have the problem of sore sword arms anymore, but battle fatigue is still real. If we can keep the time on the front line down to thirty or forty minutes, we’ll always have fresh troops doing the fighting.