The Eastern Front(22)

Knyphausen rose and went over, then came back with one of the maps and spread it across the low table in the center. As soon as he'd done so, Torstensson leaned over and pointed to a place on the map. After a few seconds to orient himself, Mike realized that the Swedish general was pointing at Leipzig. Near it, rather.

"In this area, gentlemen," said Torstensson. "I think the battle will happen here. It's good, flat terrain that will favor the Saxon cavalry."

"Favor our APCs too," grunted Knyphausen.

Mike cocked an inquisitive eye at Torstensson. "We're going to use the APCs against the Saxons? For God's sake, why?"

Before Torstensson could answer, Mike waved his hand. "Never mind. Same reason."

Torstensson nodded. Mike leaned back in his chair, and couldn't help issuing a sigh. "Well, I say it's stupid—and I don't care if Gustav Adolf is a certified military genius and I'm just a grunt. It's still stupid. Saxony is not one of the great military powers of Europe, and those so-called ‘APCs' are just armored coal trucks—which we can't replace. Not for years, at any rate. So why use them in this war? Not to mention that the things are fuel hogs. USE oil production has recovered from Turenne's raid during the Baltic War, true enough, but it was never very large to begin with. The Wietze oil fields just aren't that big. No European oil fields are very big, leaving aside North Sea fields we haven't got the technology to exploit and the Rumanian fields under Ottoman control. We're already lagging further and further behind civilian demand. Until—if—we can get some oil production from the expeditions to North America, we've got a perennial fuel shortage. So why make it worse using the APCs?"

Torstensson had a pained expression on his face. "Michael . . ."

"Never mind," said Mike, waving his head. "I know it's pointless to pursue the matter. I just want my opinion on the record."

The decision to use the APCs was just another indication of how determined Gustav Adolf was to start a war with the Poles as soon as possible. He was willing to use the APCs now rather than hold them back, even though Poland was a much stronger military power than Saxony—or Saxony and Brandenburg combined, for that matter.

But Mike's objection would just be overruled, and Mike would be stuck in the same bind he was stuck in now. The USE was simply too new and too unstable for him to risk precipitating a political crisis over this issue. Especially since he had mixed feelings on the subject, anyway. On the one hand, he thought the Polish situation did not lend itself well to military solutions. On the other hand . . .

Who could say for sure? The old saying "you can't export a revolution with bayonets" certainly had some truth. But a lot of it was just wishful thinking, too. Mike had read a great deal of history since the Ring of Fire, and one of the things he couldn't help notice was how often history was shaped by the outcome of wars. Napoleon was often denounced as a tyrant, but the fact remained that many of the revolutionary changes he made were not overturned after his defeat—not even by those he'd defeated and forced to accept those changes.

So . . . There was no way of knowing the outcome of a war between the USE and Poland. If was possible, in the event of a clearcut USE victory, that serfdom in eastern Europe would be destroyed. Not by Gustav Adolf and his armies, maybe. But one thing you could be sure of was that Gretchen Richter and her Committees of Correspondence would be coming into Poland on the heels of those armies. And they hated serfdom with a passion.

In fact, they were already there. Mike knew from his correspondence with Morris Roth in Prague that Red Sybolt and his radical cohorts were active in Poland. Possibly even in the Ukraine by now.

On balance, he thought a military approach to eradicating serfdom in eastern Europe had far more risks than benefits. Still, it was tempting. Military solutions had the great advantage of being clear and definite.

Appearing to be, at any rate. Often, though, that was just a mirage. Mike's friend Frank Jackson was a Vietnam veteran, and could expound for hours on the stupidity of politicians who thought a map was the territory.

He looked back down at the map in front of him and wondered if he was looking at another such mirage.

"Near Lützen, then," said George. "Hopefully, this time there will be a better outcome."

In the universe Mike had come from, the Swedes had won the battle of Lützen in 1632—but Gustav Adolf had also been killed there. So, a tactical victory had become a strategic defeat.

"I will not be leading a reckless cavalry charge," said Torstensson firmly.

But that didn't really matter, thought Mike. There were a thousand ways that tactical victories could turn into strategic defeats.