1453: Revival of Byzantium

Chapter 446: Times Have Changed



"Discipline is the soul of an army. It makes small numbers formidable; procures success to the weak, and esteem to all."

-        George Washington 

Semseddin acted first knowing that the area of riot is in his own camp, he knows that it is most likely the group of Epirutian conscripts who showed a strong antipathy towards this form of national service and this sense of hatred might be spread over to the rest of the Epirutian regiments within ten minutes. Semseddin leapt on to his mount and galloped back towards his camp accompanied with his guards, leaving the old Sanjek back there continuing to crawl back up slowly and take his own time to straighten his numb legs after seating down for too long. 

Semseddin's assumption is right, a junior Ottoman company second in charge came reporting that an Epirutian soldier became drunk after gulping down a bottle of mead he purchased from the merchants accompanying the army, and then started crying about his home town which is soon joined by some other Epirutian soldiers from the same tent. The crying sound in the night spooked many other soldiers making their morale dwindle even further unsure whether they are still able to go back to their homes after this war. 

Under this atmosphere filled with sorrow and grief, a soldier accidentally lit his tent alite with a fallen torch. This tiny spark immediately ignited the entire camp, which is already like a piece of wood sitting on a bunch of charcoal making them believe that there is a sneak attack by the enemies and their morales instantly dropped to zero. Many started running around like headless geese only to find out that the segment of the camp has already been sealed off by the Ottoman officers in order to prevent this kind of sentiment from being spread in to other camps, but it is already a little too late, the situation is already escalating, and the camp of two thousand men is already showing signs of no organisation and dissolving by itself. 

The middle aged commander showed no signs of hesitation, he roared and waved his kilij blade in the air summoning the attention of all of his cavalries on site, ordered the company second in charge to open the camp gate, and charged in to the camp head first wielding his blade. The moment his mount leapt through the burning gate, he came across a traumatised soldier under him, running towards the direction of the opened gate shouting unclear words in his mouth with his eyes filled with fear and dread. Semseddin raised the blade in his hand and slashed it down slitting right through his soldier's throat with absolutely no emotion in his eyes. 

"Soldiers! I am the commander of the army, Ceylant Şemseddin!" The cavalries of Semseddin too charged in to the crowd chasing, separating and killing those ones who have already lost control of themselves, while their commander continued shouting out with the loudest voice he could ever vocalise. "Form up before the three camp gates! Form up before the three camp gates! Put your hands above your heads! Just like what we have taught you on the first day! Any one who do not oblige shall be killed!"

The cavalries started repeating what their commander has just said, but they certainly did not let their hands go free. These riders continued wielding their Kilij blade or cutlasses in their hands towards these men who are supposedly their pals going on to battle fields side by side, even when they have already complied to the request, raising their hands above their heads. These men kills not for maintaining order, but to strike fear and for their own sick fetish of enjoying this war.

Semseddin too knows that his cavalries are blood menacing devils, but he too kept quiet on that for a simple reason. Unlike Thessaloniki he is lacking of the resources to feed a five hundred men strong cavalry force while keeping their regimentation and discipline. So, he must tolerate some extra behaviours from his men in order to keep their thirst for battle and morale high, even if it is at the expense of the lives of his own people.

The chaos lasted for the entire night, by day break the camp is already filled with debris, ashes, burnt bodies and fallen tents. This is a scenery straight right from hell, but for Semseddin and his war hounds this scenery almost meant nothing for them giving them no additional feelings, as they are the ones who created this hell. Just the first night alone the forces of Semseddin has already accumulated a hundred corpses and double the number of casualties, with another few dozens of people gone missing in action, probably burnt in to ashes or some how managed to make it out of this place, and this accident left another few hundred mentally fragile conscripts who definitely do not seem to still have the capability to face the true enemies when they cannot even face the illusional enemies who only exist in the words of their deceased pals.

The battle has not yet commenced for the Ottomans, and their trouble has already started brewing.

It is destined to be a long and brutal winter for Hüseyin Çelik and Ceylant Şemseddin.

Antonius did not have a good day as well, for he is still busy running about on the roads commanding various units and contingents to move about in an orderly manner. Due to the fact that the rally point is chosen for the town in the borders instead of the capital city, many troops are rushing to the destination spot at the same time. But the road resources are limited and contested even when multiple roads are being extended and built, this ultimately led to a pretty embarrassing situation – the Romans are being caught in medieval traffic jams because of themselves.

A typical Roman battalion consists of approximately four hundred to seven hundred men according to the functionality it performs, and they should have around fifty wagons and carts accompanied by at least a hundred supply assistant personnel to take care of their projectiles, luggage, food supplies and armour – soldiers cannot constantly march for days with their armours and gears on, and a team of medics for immediate treatment. Considering the fact that there are hundreds of such contingents marching alongside each other contesting roads, reports soon came to Antonius regarding which troop shall be delayed because they are stagnating in a traffic jam, and reports of two units being completely mixed up with one another taking them an extra more time to regroup.

If it is the conscripts of the Ottomans, the commanders would just order them to continue marching on as long as to them, these conscripts serving national service are just a bunch of dispensable resources which no one would expect them to have a lot of combat capabilities. The ones who need to be looked after and taken care of are those cavalries and noble contingent. For the conscripts? Nah they just require the minimum amount of clothing, food and water to march to the camp site. Any of them collapse along the way? Just toss them to the side of the road to avoid them blocking off the main passage. 

Antonius has already spent two days on horse back being a marshaller, some times he would just complain to Anna behind him that he wish there is a magical system between different cross junctions and roads that can control and organise the traffic, but of course that is not going to happen at this point of time.

Right now the situation has already started developing between both sides, the pioneer troops and scouts have already started exchanging blades with their Ottoman counterparts close to the border lines, all communications between both sides have been shut since a month ago with the borders under strict regulations. The Romans have a limited understanding on what is happening on the other side, and it is the same thing for the Ottomans.

Ever since the Ottomans suffered a disastrous defeat under the city walls of Thessaloniki, it just seems like the tactic of building chains of defensive outposts have suddenly became popular over night. Every country from the East to the West have started laying down brick after brick of castles and fortresses and avoid facing direct combat between troops as much as possible. In just a few month's time the mode of war suddenly seems to have became relatively more 'peaceful' as compared to last time, both sides are just staring behind one another behind fortified walls, waiting for the other side to run out of supplies and retreat.

The mode of warfare is suddenly changed to a kind of 'sitting wars' when they found out that building fortifications is actually a much easier job for them with much less losses. The loss of human lives last year due to war has been the least since the start of the century. Probably these people got to thank Antonius for this.


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