Once the other men were safe, with only their heads from nose up peering over the berm, Razil touched the vent on the 6-pounders with the glowing end of the firing rod. With a roar, smoke gushed from the open end of the barrel and the carriage recoiled several inches, despite an anchoring spike through a hole in the carriage trail and driven into the ground.
From his position behind and to the left of the cannon, Yozef caught a glimpse of “something” flying downrange, then impacting the rock face, sending fragments exploding outward. He looked back at the 6-pounder. The barrel appeared unaffected.
Razil waited a few moments, then fired the second 6-pounder with the same result. With only a glance at the observers, he moved to the 12-pounder barrel fastened to the wooden block and touched the vent. The roar was louder, the cloud of smoke larger, and this time Yozef felt certain his eyes picked up the cannon ball before it struck the rock face.
The foundry workers cheered, rushed out to Razil, and mobbed him. Razil’s grin was the first emotion Yozef had seen from the man.
“They seem to get along with the Narthani,” said Denes. “If he’s willing to help us make working cannon, then I doubt we have to worry about him as a potential spy or anything.”
Yozef ignored Denes’s comment, along with others offered by Balwis and Carnigan. His mind ran through implications, as he strode quickly to the knot of men.
“Yawnfol, you say you test-fired the first 6-pounder barrel ten times?”
“More. The first one Razil lit off has now been fired twenty-six times. This is only the fourth firing for the second 6-pounder.”
Yozef rubbed his palms together. “Let’s have the men fire the second 6-pounder six more times and the 12-pounder nine times. I want to see them all for myself before we make more plans.”
The foundry workers dove into the request with a vengeance. Yozef had to stop them several times during the next firings to remind them to get back to the berm. By the fourth time, he gave up and let them stay with the cannon and reload as fast as they could. For the last two firings, Denes and Balwis joined in and took turns swabbing out barrels between shots and ramming home charges and shot.
On the last firing, Yozef looked at Carnigan. “You want to have a try?”
Rolling his eyes, Carnigan said, “Why the fuck would I want to do that?”
Fifteen minutes later, Yozef, Denes, and Yawnfol met back at the foundry.
“Very impressive, Yawnfol,” said Yozef. “You and the men can be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
The foreman beamed.
“Now that means there’s more work for you all. Your message said you were casting five more 6-pounder barrels. Is that right, and did you do more than that?”
Yawnfol shook his head. “Only those six so far, Yozef. We didn’t want to do more without your approval.”
“No problem, Yawnfol,” said Yozef, not wanting the man to think he’d made a mistake. “Now we need to ramp up production. I definitely need you and Razil in Caernford as soon as possible. When’s the fastest you can be ready to move?”
“Uh . . . fastest? It’ll take a couple more days to finish packing what we’re taking with us. I’ve been turning over operating the foundry to Gilkor the last sixday, and we’ve trained replacements for the three men coming with us. I think we can all be ready and wagons loaded, ready to leave three mornings from now.”
“Good, good. I’ll expect you in Caernford by the coming Godsday. I think the Caernford foundry can be up and operating in another sixday after that. I want it to be as fast as possible. How many of the 6-pounder barrels have been mated to carriages?”
“All six,” said Yawnfol, “although we haven’t test-fired four of them.”
“Okay, get the men to do that testing. All 6-pounders that pass ten test-firings are to be sent to Caernford immediately. Same with the one 12-pounder. Get it on a carriage and send it with the 6-pounders, along with a supply of shot. We’ll need to start training as soon as possible. We’ll let the foundry here focus only on 6-pounders. The Caernford foundry will cast all future 12-pounders and more 6-pounders.” Yozef turned to Denes and asked, “What do you think?”
“I think we’re going to kill a lot of Narthani. I also think I’m going to prefer the 12-pounders, especially where we might have to fight dismounted, like we did at Moreland City.”
“It’s the 6-pounders for me,” said Balwis. “They should be able to keep up with horsemen better than the heavier cannon. We need to see exactly how fast they can travel.”
Denes nodded. “I agree, Balwis. When we get back to Caernford, I’ll ask you to take a couple of the 6-pounders and a dragoon platoon and see how fast they can move together, set up the guns, then move out again. I’ll take the other 6-pounders and the one 12-pounder and work on training more crews.”
Yozef let the two men discuss the details, both obviously enthused by their new toys.
While they planned, he took Yawnfol aside. “I spoke with you before about mortars. Once we have the Caernford foundry working, I want to revisit casting a few mortars. I don’t know yet how we’d use them, but I want to get started, as least with some experimenting.”
He knew mortars had been used as early as the fifteenth century on Earth, almost entirely in siege situations. More mobile mortars hadn’t been developed until the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and only in World War I did they have widespread use. It had been one of many instances where the knowledge of a weapon had to wait for technical developments to be practical for large-scale use. Mortars would be most useful only when they had contact fuses that worked with fired shells. Otherwise, the only use Yozef could see for mortars would be as siege weapons throwing either stone or iron balls, or charges lit by hand or by the gunpowder flash sweeping around the projecticle to light a fuse. Such bulky mortars would be useless in open field battles and would be a bitch to move quickly.
When he finished with Yawnfol, Yozef stood among the 6-pounders. I know I should be pleased, he thought. The men have done a great job, and we’re on our way to fixing the cannon shortage problem. But, Christ! With one tank or even a real machine gun, I could end the Narthani threat!
A moment’s reflection dashed those wishes, because even if he had either weapon, the tank would need fuel, ammunition, and maintenance, and the machine gun would eat through ammunition that would have to be made by hand, shell by shell.
He also reviewed in his mind the latest weapons development. Although the cannon were critical for offensive operations, napalm would be restricted to defense, as would the mortars, once they figured out the fusing problem. Mobile mortars with exploding shells were likely a year or more away, assuming they had the time and the resources.
He constantly reminded himself not to get too ambitious and that it was better to have many inferior weapons than one not yet fully deployable. He wished they had time to develop rifled muskets, but the few that existed on the island were imported, and even the Narthani soldiers didn’t have them. Smooth-bore muskets were just so much more efficient to produce, and the longer time it took to load a rifled musket argued further against them.
Minie balls were the answer to the latter issue, but they hadn’t been developed for another hundred years or more on Earth from where Anyar existed at this moment. The Caedelli would have to develop the crafts to make them, even if rifled muskets were an option.
He remembered a famous short story by Arthur Clarke, one of the great science fiction writers. “Superiority” was set in the far future, when two divisions of humanity fight a war. One side has slightly superior weapons and more of them, but its leaders are constantly looking for better weapons, instead of using what they have on the way to an inevitable victory. The other side stays with the weapons it has and slowly turns the war in its favor. The story, not one of Clarke’s better ones, had been required reading in one university engineering major, the lesson being to use the technology you had, if it was good enough to do the job now.
Then there were the United States’ jets and tanks in World War II on Earth. America had developed jets and better tanks in time to produce them for the war but had eschewed their production in favor of existing inferior planes and tanks. The reasoning was to swamp the enemy with what they had, instead of diverting resources.
Yozef reminded himself of these lessons every time he felt tempted by ideas for new weapons.
CHAPTER 19: READINESS
Weapons weren’t the only part of the Keelan clan’s preparations for whatever came next with the Narthani. Weapons required trained men to use those weapons effectively. The men needed logistics to fight, as did the rest of the Keelan populace, if the Narthani interrupted food production and if the people fled to secure locations farther inland.
In addition, Yozef believed that for the clans to create the most effective fighting force, they needed to learn and accept fighting together with men of different clans, which included taking orders from someone not of their own clan.
Training as Dragoons
Even if Yozef’s ideas seemed strange to Denes, once he understood, he quickly moved on to implementation. Yozef often wondered whether Denes was a natural military commander. After Moreland City, no one needed further convincing of the futility of pure cavalry against cannon and massed infantry. Though the Caedelli might ride to battle on horseback, all of them needed to learn to fight afoot, if necessary, once they found the enemy. On Earth, the early dragoons had been infantry trained well enough to stay on a horse and be able to ride to the battlefield before dismounting and fighting on foot. Over time, the definition and function had changed in Earth history, but the basic concept remained relevant for Caedellium. In the clans’ case, however, it would be more a matter of experienced horsemen learning to fight as infantry, rather than the other way around, as on Earth.
Dragoons had two inherent disadvantages. Losses of horses needed to be kept to a minimum to maintain mobility, meaning the horses had to be kept well back from the fighting and guarded from any flanking attacks that might drive them off. Second, someone had to do the holding and the guarding. Typically, one man in four held the horses, while the other three men fought. Thus, a hundred-man company would have only seventy-five men to serve as infantry facing an enemy. Where rapid changes in positions were not anticipated, fewer men could hold the horses.
To counter the disadvantages, a Caedelli dragoon often equaled an enemy cavalryman and could outmaneuver any pure infantry. Consistent with the necessity to move quickly, Yozef pushed producing enough light artillery to accompany the dragoons.
Culich had ordered all Keelan fighting men trained to operate in dual roles: their traditional role as cavalry and as infantry that rode to the battle site. Denes had begun with men at Abersford, then more at Clengoth and Caernford. These men then served as cadre for training throughout Keelan Province. Eventually, all Keelan fighters would be so trained, and Denes found himself, to his consternation, spending more time in an administrative role overseeing training throughout Keelan and coordinating cadre training for other clans. Mittack, Gwillamer, Hewell, and Adris already had sent men, and now Stent and Orosz joined in, sending men for training as dragoons and using the new 6-pounders.
The training itself was not complex. Having no formal experience in infantry tactics and with only what Yozef could dredge out of his memory, Denes focused on simply teaching the men to go quickly from mounted to dismounted and back, coordinate with the 6-pounder artillery, and stay together as companies, platoons, and squads. As primitive as this infantry training was, it turned out to be a fortuitous foundation for unexpected opportunities that would occur.
You’re Caedelli, Not a Clansman
As Culich had said to the other hetmen at the conclave, Keelan would intensify preparation for whatever came. Two actions consisted of increasing the training and making a massive effort to store food, in case war interrupted production for up to a year.
All three of Yozef’s “shadows” contributed to the training. Balwis taught horsemanship, because his years of growing up on a horse ranch enabled him and a horse to seemingly blend into a single entity whenever he mounted, even with a horse he had never before touched. Most Caedelli men were already experienced riders, though not all, especially men raised and working within towns, and even the experienced riders had things to learn.
Wyfor Kales organized group lessons in blade fighting. Watching one session reminded Yozef of historical movies and the training sessions of gladiators or legionnaires. Wyfor perfectly filled the role of the experienced warrior screaming at novices.
Carnigan’s role came into being one evening while he shared beers with Denes, Balwis, and Yozef at the Snarling Graeko 2 in Caernford. The second round of steins arrived at their table, when Yozef noticed that Denes appeared even more dour than usual. The man, loyal to the clan and personally fearless, though not reckless, had turned into an important leader. He only occasionally appeared at the pub and even on his good days did not make the cheeriest of drinking companions.
“What’s up, Denes? You’re not your usual ebullient self.”
Denes cast a baleful eye at Yozef’s quip, then sighed and slammed his stein on the table. “With so much to do, I’m spending far too much time with the mixed-clan men we’re training.”
Yozef proposed the idea that on some occasions, men from different clans would have to fight together and even serve under the orders of a leader not from their own clan. Culich endorsed the idea, and Luwis and Denes accepted the reasoning. The historical focus on clan independence and chauvinism toward clan membership would cause chaos during a battle. To counter these effects, a battalion-sized unit composed of men from all members of the Five-Clan Alliance had begun training outside Caernford. The hundred men from each clan made up platoon-sized units composed of all five clans. The intent was to create a cadre of leaders with experience in commanding mixed-clan fighters. These men would lead and train other such units.
“I take it things are not going well?” Yozef queried.
“They would be a disaster,” said Denes between clenched teeth. “The men are supposed to take turns leading different-sized units. Instead, they spend most of the time arguing against orders, refusing orders, deliberately misinterpreting or delaying obeying orders, and fighting with different clans’ members or sometimes with one of the men working that day as a unit leader. I and the others in charge of this fiasco scream at the men till we’re hoarse. Sometimes they listen, sometimes they ignore us, and even if they seem to understand what we’re doing, as soon as we turn our backs, it all starts again. I know the idea is sound, but I think we should give up the idea of mixed-clan units or operations.”
Balwis sat smirking as he listened to Denes’s complaint. “I watched a field exercise last sixday. If anything, Denes is too kind. I almost fell off my horse laughing.”
Denes glowered. “It’s not a laughing matter!”
“No, of course not,” said Yozef, heading off more heated words between the two men. Then he looked up, his eyes unfocused as he thought. The other three men waited, accustomed to Yozef’s momentary absences while he considered a problem or listened to whispers.
Three minutes passed, with the other three men sipping their beers and eyeing one another as they waited to see if Yozef had a pronouncement.
“Denes,” said Yozef, when he became present again, “let’s say a Mittack man is a platoon leader that day and a Hewell man doesn’t follow orders. Is there any way to compel obedience?”
“Only if the Hewell leader of the hundred does something. Even if he is so inclined, which isn’t that often, he might be elsewhere at the time and minutes or more can pass before the order is obeyed. Obviously, this doesn’t work in a battle situation.”
Yozef’s lips parted, exposing a flickering tongue running over his teeth. “What you need is a ‘drill sergeant.’”
The English word sergeant was one of the labels Yozef suggested to identify men at different levels of comm
and, but what a “drill sergeant” was, they had no idea and waited for Yozef’s explanation.
“In many nations and armies, a drill sergeant is a man with authority over men in training. He may not be in the chain-of-command, but it’s his duty to see that the men follow orders during training.”
Yozef’s explanation wasn’t strictly accurate but close enough for his purpose.
“How is that any different from now?” complained Denes. “There’s still the problem of obeying orders all the time and not just when someone with authority is looking at them.”
Maybe it was the beer, but Yozef eagerly anticipated watching the result of what he was about to suggest.
“The drill sergeant has authority to impose physical means, as well as yelling. The men need to worry more about displeasing the drill sergeant than they think about obeying orders from someone of a different clan. The idea is to get them used to obeying orders from whomever is in command.”
Balwis snorted. “That’s ridiculous! No clansman will stand for anyone pushing him around, much less striking him, if that’s what you’re implying. All it does is change the fight from men of two different clans to a clansman and this drill sergeant of yours.”
“Of course,” said Yozef casually, looking at Balwis, “the drill sergeant has to be someone so physically imposing and dangerous that the men will do what he says.”
Balwis stared at Yozef, his face blank, then his eyes flickered briefly to one side. Yozef didn’t change his position, but from the corner of his eye, he could see Denes’s head turn toward Carnigan.
Sergeant Major
Carnigan stood to one side and behind Denes Vegga on a platform, facing a mob of five hundred men. Efforts to get the clansmen to form into ranks had proved fruitless and been abandoned.
Denes wasn’t a small man, but Carnigan could easily see over Denes’s head and view all five hundred men facing them. Most of the men waited for what Denes would say, although as many as a quarter of the men remained engaged in conversations, despite having been told to pay attention.
Heavier Than a Mountain (Destiny's Crucible Book 3) Page 25
