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Battle Royal - A Survival Strategy |
| Written by Philip Neale | |
| Monday, 04 August 2008 | |
 It was becoming less and less clear if there would ever be any resolution to the conflict and sitting down to attempt a diplomatic solution had proved fruitless on many occasions in the past. It was as if there was some suicidal determination to stand and fight to the last man and it just seemed to be a complete waste of time and resources, not to say manpower. The struggle had been going on for ages now and there didn't seem to be any end in sight. Both sides had made advances and been forced into retreat on a number of occasions, only to regroup and try again. There had been casualties of course, but no more than could have been reasonably foreseen at the start of the conflict and several of the encounters had resulted in a situation of stalemate after which both sides had withdrawn to lick their wounds and reassess their situations.
The King was in a dilemma and his tactics were becoming a little worn and predictable. Perhaps there was a spy in his camp, reporting back to the other side on all matters relating to the dispute between them and battle plans for the next round of the campaign. He could only hope that his opposite number was suffering the same logistical problems, and there was no doubt that the sides were evenly matched. There was never any problem with resources and both sides rarely had any problems with recruitment - there were always those willing to throw themselves into the carnage. Why was there this constant conflict of good against evil? Why was it all so black and white? The battle lines had been drawn long ago in the mists of time, and it was one of those situations where you would be hard pressed to find someone who knew the exact reasons for the dispute in the first place and nothing had ever been written down. It was now a matter of honour passed down unreasoningly from father to son and no quarter could be given notwithstanding the code of chivalry which existed at the time. He needed advice and sought out the local bishop.
The bishop had returned to his palace after observing the latest set of skirmishes. He was reluctant to get involved in the cut and thrust of the matter, but as the King's advisor on matters secular and political he was inevitably drawn into the fight, and whilst he wanted no part of any bloodshed his loyalty to the crown was absolute. They talked for many hours and the King felt in no better position following their discussion, and decided to sleep on the matter.
The Queen had already dined when he returned to the royal apartments that evening and was sitting in the great hall with her entourage. She was worried to see him in such an unsettled state and asked if there was anything that she could help him with. He had read of Queens like Boudica in the past who had led her troops into battle in such a bellicose manner that she became the scourge of the nation, but could not see how his wife could fulfil a similar role and so politely declined the offer. They sat for a while discussing matters of state and possible solutions to the current impasse, but no firm tactical changes emerged, and he kissed her goodnight and went to bed.
The following day he summoned his knights and reviewed the previous day's events to see if any possibilities emerged for ending the war in his favour. One or two gaps in the battle plan emerged, and after reviewing reports from the previous day he came up with a few tactical changes which would hopefully rectify any errors which were apparent that afternoon. He had to be careful to keep these to himself in the light of his suspicions of a spy in the camp and returned to the bishop later that day to go over his plans for the next meeting with the other side.
The cleric was impressed and upbeat about the proposed alterations and suggested in addition that the knights be used as a shock force once the infantry had been engaged, perhaps coming in as a flanking manoeuvre using a setting sun at their backs as a surprise tactic. The King had not considered this, thanked the bishop for his advice and returned to the castle to summon the knights for a council of war. He also told them to polish up their armour in the hope that reflection from a low sun would confuse the enemy.
He refrained from finalising his battle timing until the last possible moment to prevent word leaking out to the enemy, and did not assemble his forces until late in the afternoon. The infantry were formed up in line and marched out on to the battlefield in front of the knights, and the bishop made his appearance along with one of his fellow clerics who had come along to observe the conflict - both bore arms just in case they were needed. It appeared to the King that these battles always seemed to start the same way and it seemed to be his turn to move first this time. He was very careful not to rush into the conflict in any precipitate manner, and received a very curt reminder from the other side to make his move. The infantrymen were brought to attention and marched forwards in their traditional manner, mere pawns in a much greater plan that they probably didn't understand. Their entire future rested upon victory in the conflict, and the fall of the King would be disaster for all of them.
Theirs was not a role which allowed for backward movement once they had engaged the enemy and they were amongst the first of any casualties every time, but they clearly understood this and none of them complained. The encounter dragged on during the evening and into the following day with the usual minor successes and failures, except this time the King thought he had seen a chink in the formation of the opposition. Sending out two knights in an early morning probing skirmish he harried the opposing King and his infantry in an attempt to isolate him in his castle. The raid was repulsed, but not until reinforcements had been brought in from the other side of the battle field, and this exposed the whole of the left flank to a lightning movement involving the bishop, who had seen his opportunity for glory and, surprisingly, the Queen who had donned a suit of armour and led the attacking force.
The Knights quickly withdrew from their attack on the castle and cut a swathe across the field through the line of now slow-moving infantry in support of the onslaught. With the pawns in the struggle falling like ninepins and now out of the way, the area was clear for a final push for victory across the entire rank and file of the opposition lines. It was a catastrophe for the enemy formation, and although the other King regrouped his now rapidly diminishing forces, he saw his own Queen captured whilst retreating to their castle for protection. She went down fighting amongst a sea of infantry bent on destruction, and in a late charge to the end of the battle field his knights were cut off and isolated. He stood alone in the face of approaching enemy forces but was not about to surrender or resign himself to the inevitable. With only a couple of knights still at his disposal a rousing final confrontation was fought, and through the use of consummate skill he was able to fend off wave after wave of attacks, and although it did seem briefly that he would survive another day, in the end it was all too much for him and the final act was delivered with a cry of jubilation
"Checkmate! Beat you, beat you, beat you dad"
"Ok, Ok it's only a game of chess. Keep your hair on"
"Shall we play again? Come on, I can do it again...........please"
There was no doubt about it, he was getting better each time. Goodness knows what he'd be like when he reached the age of ten. Perhaps buying him that chess book by Leonard Barden was not such as good idea after all, maybe reading it first for himself would have been a better plan. Copyright 2008 Philip Neale |
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| Last Updated ( Monday, 04 August 2008 ) |
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