Commander In the Thirty Years War

Battle of Breitenfeld part 2

As I manoeuvre my horse to fire another round, I knew this would be when the battle would be decided. It is the seventh charge, and I made sure I was in at the front of the formation, giving me enough room between the horses to escape. Many men have fallen, mangled bodies from artillery, bodies crushed by horses, as well as bodies with gaping holes lay across the battlefield. The captains kept bellowing about the incoming victory, but the men are hearing none of it. It has been six charges where the men shot their guns. They were received with a deadly salvo of Swedish gunnery and a cavalry charge from Swedish heavy and light cavalry, resulting in heavy casualties.

"Don't give up! We can do this! We're the Emperor's Black Curraissers! Let's show those heretics the true faith!" Heinrich, the cavalry commander, continued bellowing. Heinrich is setting up many death flags around him; I am a little worried about him. He is a decent cavalry commander, and many men were willing to listen to him. After all, this is the seventh charge, and I would have run away be the third time it failed. The mood is tense; many men around me were glum. You could tell that they even did not have much hope that it could work.

On our seventh charge, the charge that will break the Swedish right flank, off we go. The charge that will define the Battle of Breitenfeld, kill Gustavus Adolphus, leading to a thousand long reign of the Incest, cough I mean Habsburg Empire. This is it, after all, in a story where you transmigrate to another world, history will always deviate.

Aiming our pistols into the faces of the Swedish Pikemen, their faces filled with stoic discipline shook us to the core. That's when we all realised this isn't going to work, chief. As our pistols opened up into the Swedish formations, and I took the use of the opportunity to gallop away, the Swedish returned with a fierce salvo from their arquebusiers, causing many men to fall. As the calvary rushed out to claim the lives of those who were still living, one man bellowed out," Retreat! Follow me!". This was soon echoed with a chorus of others screaming the exact words. As I followed the individual who cried out, he was facing all of us, waving his tightly clenched fist in the air, beckoning to all of us to follow him. It was our commander in chief, Pappenheim, the leader of the Black Cuirassiers. One could see his dark, gloomy expression while wearing the dark coloured armour, where the name Black Cuirassiers originated. There were red coloured feathers on his sharp helmet, which were in sharp contrast to his entire attire. The reckless cavalry commander, which caused the whole battle to be lost, displayed various emotions on his face, consisting of disappointment, anger, and fear. I wonder if I told him that future generations would blame him for the entire battle's lost if he would just recklessly charge into the Swedish formation without a care in the world only to retain his knightly honour still? Dead men tell no tales. But then he would have to kill Tilly as well...

Our cavalry formation is messy, many consisting of the few who caracoled early and the lucky few who survived the salvo and punishing calvary charge at the same time. Many of our well-trained cavalrymen were lost, men that took years to train, versus the small losses we called upon the Swedish formation. Training gunners and pikemen only took weeks, while calvary men took years. If you don't believe me, try shooting a gun on horseback, you'll understand. Or play Mount and Blade; trying to hack at someone while on horseback ain't easy.

Pappenheim and us were retreating from the battle by the Northwest to Halle. As I was riding amongst the front, the calvary captains discussed with Pappenheim their next course of action.

"Sir, is it alright, leaving our comrades on the field like this? They would most probably strike out at our infantry formation with their cavalry?" Heinrich pipped up.

Pappenheim was still remembering the events of the battle taking place in his mind, and he's intuition told him that victory could be sought if he had done it. He's intuition was rarely wrong, but it seemed he executed it wrongly. Being insubordinate to Tilly, he launched a grand cavalry assault on the Swedish left flank, hoping to bring grand victory for the Black Cuirassiers. Who knew things could go so wrong...