Eric Flint - 1636:The Saxon Uprising

Yet that was impossible. It was true that small numbers of soldiers got overlooked, from time to time. Eric knew of a volley gun crew that had remained behind in Hamburg after the city was seized during the Ostend War in order to repair badly damaged equipment. Then the commander of their unit had been injured shortly after leaving the city and had forgotten to mention them to the subordinate officer who'd replaced him. The battle of Ahrensbok had taken place a few weeks later and right afterward the subordinate in question had been reassigned. The end result was that the volley gun crew had wound up spending nine months carousing in Hamburg with not a care until someone finally remembered them.

But that was just three men. There were over four hundred soldiers from the Third Division now residing in Dresden. That represented almost five percent of the division's strength and was enough men to form an entire battalion. There was no chance at all that Stearns had simply forgotten about them.

And even if Stearns had forgotten them, Eric was quite certain that Colonel Higgins had not-for the good and simple reason that he got letters from Jeff every week or so. There was a good and reliable courier service between Dresden and Bohemia.

So what was going on?

Tata put his own guess into words. "General Stearns wants you to stay here. And he's got a good enough excuse for doing so if anyone asks. 'Recuperating from wounds inflicted in valiant combat with the foe' is the sort of explanation that most people, even shithead Swedes, will hesitate before calling into doubt. And there's only one reason he'd want you to be here."

Eric could figure out the rest for himself. He already knew from filling in fairly obvious blanks in Jeff's letters that the Hangman Regiment had been left behind in Tetschen so that Stearns could bring his whole division back into Saxony in a hurry, if need be. The most likely cause of such a maneuver would be an impending battle in or around Dresden.

A battle with whom?

Eric smiled. General Stearns was nothing if not canny. If anyone ever pressed him on that matter, he'd have a ready-made explanation there also.

After being defeated at Zwenkau in August, the Saxon general von Arnim had withdrawn what was left of his army into Leipzig. There, he'd prepared for a siege while he began negotiating surrender terms with the Swedes. But the negotiations had dragged on for weeks, since Gustav Adolf had been pre-occupied with driving forward his offensive into Poland. The Elector of Saxony was killed in September, and thereafter Gustav Adolf wasn't particularly concerned with the situation in Leipzig. Von Arnim wasn't a mercenary in the usual sense of the term and his soldiers were mostly Saxons rather than the usual melange you found in professional armies. Still, with no patron left, von Arnim certainly wasn't going to launch any campaigns, even after Gustav Adolf took almost all of his forces out of Saxony. He'd stay put in Leipzig until the situation got clarified.

And then the king of Sweden had been severely injured at Lake Bledno, in October, and was now out of the political picture altogether-with von Arnim and ten thousand or so of his soldiers still camped in Leipzig. So, if pressed, Stearns could always claim that he was seeing to it that in the event von Arnim resumed hostilities he could bring his Third Division back into Saxony in a hurry.

The CoC had gotten word in Dresden from their compatriots in Leipzig that the Swedes had resumed negotiations with von Arnim. But while no one in the CoCs was privy to those discussions, no one thought any longer that the Swedes were simply seeking von Arnim's surrender. They were almost sure that Oxenstierna was trying to hire von Arnim himself-not to fight the Poles, but to serve the Swedish chancellor as another repressive force inside the USE. He couldn't rely on the USE army still besieging Poznan to serve that purpose. In fact, everyone thought that he'd insisted on continuing the war with Poland precisely for the purpose of keeping the USE's army out of the country. He'd use mercenaries in the pay of Sweden instead. He already had Baner and his fifteen thousand men marching into Saxony. If Oxenstierna could add von Arnim and the ten thousand men he had in Leipzig, he probably figured he could overawe or if need be crush any opposition in Saxony.

"Interesting times," he murmured, thinking of the Chinese curse Jeff had once mentioned to him.

"Is that a 'yes'?" Tata asked.

Eric made a face. "I guess."

He started moving around the tower, which was built like a large turret, with Tata trailing in his wake. When he got to the other side, he leaned over the railing and began studying the walls which protected Dresden on the south. Most of the city was on the southern bank of the Elbe.

"We're not going to be able to protect all of it," he said. "Have to let the northern part go. Even then, it's going to be a lot of work to build up those walls."

"And you said you didn't know anything about sieges," Tata said. She wasn't arguing the point, just doing her usual best to squash any further protests on his part.

"Just common sense," he grumbled. "I'm still not an engineer."

She came close and slid an arm around his waist. "You'll do," she said.

That statement had a very expansive flavor to it. Eric felt full of good cheer again.

Eddie Junker studied the boulevard to the south. Then, swiveled and studied it to the north.

Boulevard, he told himself firmly. That sounded so much less suicidal.

An uncharitable soul might have called the thoroughfare a "street." A particularly surly specimen might have added "crooked" to the bargain.

In truth, the thoroughfare wasn't really crooked. It just…jiggled around a bit.

Standing next to him, Denise Beasley stretched out her hand and made a slow, swooping motion. "You oughta be able to pull it off, Eddie. It's a pretty straight street. Ah, avenue."

"The lack of straightness by itself isn't the problem." He stretched out his arms, pointing simultaneously to the buildings on either side of the street. "What would you say the width is?"

Denise looked back and forth. Her friend Minnie Hugelmair, always given to direct methods, walked over to the building on the left side of the street. Then she paced off the distance.

"Thirty-five feet," she announced.

Eddie nodded. "About what I figured." He gave Denise a fish-eyed look. "And what is the wingspan of the plane?"

Denise waggled her head. "I'm not sure. Twenty-five feet?"

"Ha. Thirty-two feet. Leaving me three feet of clearance in the street-the very-not-straight street-if I have to come down into it."

"But you're not planning to," protested Denise. "Exactly."

" 'Exactly,' " Eddie mimicked. "No, I would simply be following it toward the square while-not quite-coming below the surface of the roofs. That would-hopefully-allow me to come into the landing area with a lower altitude than if I had to hop over the big buildings surrounding it. But if anything goes wrong…"

He looked down and scuffed his boot across the surface of the road. "Then there's this little problem. You did notice these are cobblestones?"

She looked down. "Um. Yeah."

"And exactly how many cobblestoned airstrips have you ever seen?"

"Um. None."

"There's a reason for that." He lifted his own, much thicker hand, and shook it up and down sharply. "Cobblestones are contraindicated for landing gear."

The two CoC craftsmen standing next to them looked at each other. Their expressions were dubious.

"Hard to pull up all these cobblestones and lay new ones," said the taller of the two.

"And then they wouldn't be as solidly set," added his companion.

Eddie had already figured that much out for himself. "How about paving it?"