“No,” said Bonnie. “We were in such an all-fired hurry to get out of the inn when the fighting started that we didn’t take anything with us.” She nodded toward the secretary. “He’s been staying in the same inn and came with us.”
Böcler shrugged. “I regret not taking some additional clothing, but other than that, there really wasn’t anything in my room worth bringing. Administrator Christian sent me here to compile records on a number of routine matters. The Bavarians are welcome to plunder the lot—the very great lot—and take it back to Munich. Perhaps they’ll die of boredom as they study the files. I came very close to doing so myself.”
So Böcler had a sense of humor, too. Who knew?
Certainly not Bonnie Weaver. The expression on her face, looking at him, was positively startled.
Chapter 10
The next morning, Captain Johann Heinrich von Haslang wasn’t any happier than he’d been the night before. If anything, his misgivings about the campaign were growing.
There were a number of things troubling him. To begin with, as he’d foreseen, there would be no serious effort made to track down the culprits who had caused the failure of the expedition to capture the airship. When he’d reported his findings to von Lintelo, the general had shrugged irritably and said, “These things happen when a city is taken. Assign a reliable sergeant to see what he can find out. I have more important work for you.”
Assign a reliable sergeant was a meaningless phrase, applied to this task. What was one sergeant supposed to do? If he wasn’t from the same mercenary company as the perpetrators, he would have no idea where to start his investigation. If he was from that company, acting essentially on his own, he’d be too wary of stirring up animosity toward himself to do anything but a perfunctory investigation.
So, not only would a vicious crime go unpunished, but the discipline of the troops would degenerate still further. But there was nothing Captain von Haslang could do about it, so he put the matter aside and concentrated on the new orders he was getting from the general.
Those were...also not to his liking.
The one pleasant note was that he would be working under the command of Colonel von Schnetter again. He and Caspar were old friends, and got along well professionally as well as personally. So far as von Haslang was concerned, Colonel von Schnetter was the best field grade officer in General von Lintelo’s whole army.
The assignment itself was straightforward, too—always a blessing in military campaigns led by generals like von Lintelo, who thought of themselves as superb military strategists. In Johann Heinrich’s experience, the phrase superb military strategist meant a general whose plans were invariably too complex and intricate and made too little allowance for the predictably unpredictable mishaps that all military campaigns were subject to. There might be some exceptions to that rule, but the Bavarian commander was not one of them.
On this occasion, however, the mission was clear and simple: Pursue the USE forces that had escaped the city, presumably under the command of Major Tom Simpson, and either capture or destroy them.
So far, so good. But thereafter, everything turned sour.
The first problem was that von Lintelo was not giving them a large enough force to do the job properly. All told, they’d have fifteen hundred men to overcome an enemy force that was probably no more than a third that size—but consisted mostly of artillery. Well-equipped artillery, at that. Two of Colonel von Schnetter’s adjutants had investigated the barracks and reported that Simpson’s artillery unit had taken all of their six-pounders and four-pounders with them, along with plenty of powder and shot. They’d spiked the heavier ordinance and done a surprisingly good job of damaging the rest of their supplies before they left.
They’d have done a still better job if they’d simply blown up the barracks, of course. Presumably, they hadn’t done so because Simpson was reluctant to inflict casualties on the nearby civilian population. Many officers might—no, certainly would—interpret that as weakness on Simpson’s part. They’d think he was either a pewling neophyte or just too tenderhearted to make war his business.
But Captain von Haslang suspected otherwise. That act of merciful restraint was also what you’d expect from an opponent who was coldly determined to recapture the city someday—and quite confident that he would. The American major’s ability to rally his troops so quickly and effectively and lead a successful retreat—one of the most difficult maneuvers of all in war—certainly did not indicate a fumbling, uncertain novice.
Such a commander wouldn’t panic, when pursuit caught up with him. He’d position his men behind good fieldworks and take a stand. With the guns he had, he’d inflict a lot of damage on his enemy before he was driven under.