12: Building a military

We forged the first steel prod for a crossbow.

The best material for it would have been spring steel… well the best would have been carbon fiber, but let's stay in the realm of possible. Spring steel required trace amounts of chromium and manganese, and all I knew about them was that they were metals, nothing more. No proper industrial revolution happening here until God sends me a chemical engineer.

I settled for quenching the steel in oil, followed by tempering. I had the first prod affixed to a heavy table and attached to a block and tackle system. Kovar sniggered as I pulled the rope from the safety of a wooden shield.

His expression vanished when the prod snapped with an ear-shattering noise. I struggled to suppress a smug expression in the ensuing silence. He needed humility as much as Aramid needed confidence.

We went too far with the second prod, which turned out too soft and bent under pressure. The third flexed under full load and returned to its previous shape. Again and again.

We affixed it onto a crossbow stock and fired a test bolt at my chainmail. The bolt punched through, bursting links apart. The workshop erupted in cheers, whoops and slaps on shoulders.

“One for every hunter?” Aramid asked.

“No. They can hit farther and faster with their repeating bows. This is for the rest.”

The new crossbow required a few adjustments from the wooden version, but we soon had a powerful weapon that could turn any man or woman lethal, with only a few days of practice.

“You don’t look too pleased.” Lothar asked, looking at my expression.

“I could add a few more features to make it even more deadly.” I told him. A magazine and an integrated lever would multiply its effectiveness, like the wooden magazine did to bows.

“But building such a complicated prototype and smoothing out all kinks might take weeks or even months.”

“Time which we might not have.” He finished my thought. Those brigands and Zock were the threats we knew about, but we wouldn’t be a real sovereign nation if we couldn’t handle unanticipated threat as well.

“Yes.” I said, sighing. I shelved those plans for the moment to focus on the good enough rather than the perfect.

As a terrible man once said: quantity has a quality all its own.

Weapons, however advanced, would be worthless without well trained men to wield them. Time to train some soldiers.

Before training the men, I had to train myself. I had no martial training myself, but luckily Jack did, and his body still remembered the movements. I took a spear into a secluded area and began practising with it. “My” body knew how to move and I could feel it correcting my movements. I let it guide the spear, thrusting, blocking and parrying against an imaginary enemy and within hours I had made remarkable progress.

Fighting against an imaginary enemy or a dummy wasn’t the same as fighting a real person, though. So I took Lothar aside.

“Do you know how to use the spear?” I spoke in a low voice so only he could hear, looking him in the eye to signal I needed the truth.

“Maybe?” he said nervously. “I won’t be very good though. Haven’t touched one in a long time.”

“That’s good enough. I just need a live opponent who isn’t completely clueless.”

We sparred in a secluded area. His movements were sloppy, but he clearly knew how to wield the spear. He even gave me pointers on improving my technique. He must have an interesting past, I thought as I pushed him away.

“God! How are you so strong?” He wheezed, lying on the ground.

“You answered your own question. Divine blessing.” Thanks asshole God.

Confident in my ability to impart the men some knowledge, I met the Council to build a military.

“Elders. It is time we established our military.”

“Are you done playing with mud and rocks?” Hyde sneered.

“Yes. Here’s the result,” I said, revealing a crossbow. “A proper war crossbow with a steel prod. In addition, the soldiers will train in the use of the spear.”

“Why the spear? From what I surmised, our new furnaces can produce ten times the iron than a large bloomery. We could arm them with sword.” Erickson asked.

Only the nobility were allowed to carry swords in these times, so I understood his eagerness.

“The spear is a lot cheaper to build than a sword, and it requires a lot less training to get reasonably good at. That’s quite important, as I want to train every able-bodied man between the age of seventeen and forty-five in its use.”

“I don’t think they can spare that much time, Sire. We’re still figuring out how to build boats and better nets. Until then, most men need to focus on foraging, farming and fishing.”

“Most won’t go through the full course; just enough that they won’t be useless if called to action. I also want to see each of them with a weapon in hand to find out the ones who can be turned into full-time professional soldiers.”

With our small numbers, mandatory conscription was the only sensible path to effectively defend the people, and the Elders ultimately agreed to it. The failure of the hunters against the brigands was probably still fresh in their minds.

We began training every able-bodied man between seventeen and forty-five in the use of the spear. I made Lothar an instructor alongside me and we began whipping the recruits into shape. There were no jogging sessions or the like as the men were still emaciated. Many had hollow-eyed looks of someone who had seen a lot of tragedy, which they had. It only made them more motivated and within a few weeks, most of them became proficient enough with the spear to act as a militia. We took note of the more capable ones, who were chosen for further training.

“I said, good day, Sir!” I exclaimed, as I easily smashed a bear skull into bits with our new weapon: the Goedendag. A short spear that also doubled as a sturdy club.

“That is certainly an effective weapon, but isn’t it a little crude?” Lothar complained.

“That’s a very noble-like attitude.” I remarked. “It is crude, but we don’t have much time and steel to make fancy weapons.” I replied. “It will also keep our soldiers deadly without slowing them down.”

The Goedendag was a very effective weapon, as demonstrated by a bunch of Flemish peasants, who managed to defeat mounted knights with it. I actually wanted to equip my men with poleaxes, which were three-in-one weapons that could stab, smash and cut, but the necessary steel was being used to craft their primary weapon, crossbows.

Given our small numbers, we would never win any large field battle, so the primary weapon was always going to be a bow, essential for guerrilla warfare. The hunters trained the trainees in the use of the bow, while we waited for the craftsmen to finish building the steel crossbows.

Aramid, Kovar and their new apprentices worked day and night and presented us with their results.

“The crossbows are ready, milord,” Aramid came running one day, while cradling the weapon like a child holding his favorite toy.

“Nice! How many?”

“Twenty. All tested with thirty firings each. Very accurate and powerful.”

“Good. Keep making more; we need at least a hundred.” I smiled, releasing a breath I didn't know I had been holding. A large weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Finally, we could, at least from behind the palisade, defend ourselves effectively.

“Within a year or so, we should have enough to arm every skilled man and woman.”

“Women?” asked the Steward incredulously.

“Yes, Lord Steward. Or do you think the enemy will spare them if they ever win? No, their fate will be worse than ours in a way; at least we will die with our dignity intact. They ought to at least learn to defend themselves.”

“How will they use this weapon, Sire? Reloading it doesn't look easy.”

“Goat's foot lever. It trades force for distance.” I demonstrated loading the crossbow with one. “Most young women should be able to use it. Those who can't can handle other duties. It's not as if we have shortage of work to be done.”

I wanted the soldiers to train with the Goat's foot lever, as it would be the only way to load the really powerful bows I wanted next. I imagined the foolish enemy commander staring in shock as the bolt from a six hundred pound crossbow ignored whatever armor he had, except high quality plate, and penetrated deep inside.

“Ha ha ha, let me show you it's features.” I pathetically tried to imitate a great man as I shot the crossbow, burying the bolt in a tree.

Theo snorted derisively. “It's powerful my lord, I'll admit, but it's range is pitiful, and it's slow. I can shoot ten times as fast with a bow, and much farther.”

“I'm sure you can, but tell me Theo, how many years it took for you to get that good? Don't say you were born that way.” I stared at him, signaling this was a serious matter.

“Ten years.” He replied tentatively.

“Yes, well I can't wait ten years for only some people to get really good. I want all of our people to be good enough at hitting their targets from defensive positions within one year. Hence, crossbows. It's not as if we're eliminating bows. I still need a core of expert bowmen to pluck the really juicy hard to reach targets.”

That seemed to mollify the young man.

During the training, some men showed real potential as officers: solving conflicts, diffusing high tempers and quickly solving problems. I realized my mistake that I hadn’t considered anyone outside of the hunters as officer candidates.

I worked with a craftsman who had been a jeweler to create insignia for various ranks. In a fit of vanity, I made the most ostentatious one for myself. Hey, as the Supreme Commander of the new military forces, I had to look good.

Soldiers who were the best shots were given the new crossbows, but not before I had them recite the crossbowman's creed:

“This is my bow. There are many like it but this one’s mine. My bow is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my bow is useless. Without my bow, I am useless. I must fire my bow true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will! Before God, I swear this creed. My bow and myself are defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace.”

The men stood straight and proud as they loudly recited it, with serious faces and booming voices, while I barely managed to suppress a laughing fit.

After weeks of training, eighty nine men were officially inducted into the new military, along with the existing hunters, increasing our military's official size to one hundred, even though we could barely outfit thirty at the moment. The rest of the men who weren't half bad were designated as reservists. We made Hunter an official title, to be given only to the worthy.

While most of the soldiers were sent off to their duty stations, the dozen officer candidates among them had more studying to do. I compiled everything I remembered about the principles of war on a page. A page that finally had begun to resemble paper.

I smirked as I realized this was one aspect of military training where I was far better than the old Jack. He, raised by feudal nobility, believed in the code of chivalry, the gentleman's way of warfare or whatever you would like to call it. I would call it foolish and unpragmatic.

I drilled the general principles of war into the cadets, until they could repeat them under pressure.

They were:

War is total commitment to a clear and unambiguous goal, achieved by any means and sacrifices deemed necessary. Be ready to pay the price in blood and always expect to be surprised. It's three steps are:

Planning

State a clear strategy: what is to be accomplished and how is it to be achieved.

Constantly look for advantages over the enemy, be it through better intelligence, superior numbers, minds or weapons.

Planning is essential, even though no plan survives first contact. Plans are mere guides built upon gathered information, and must be changed whenever new information renders them useless. Always take the enemy's strength and ability to ruin your plan into account.

Gather as much information about the enemy and battlefields as you can. The more accurate your information, the better your plans will be. In absence of accurate information, it is better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them.

Develop proper tactics, i.e. how to use men, equipment, terrain etc. to win a battle.

Preparation

Develop proper logistics, i.e. keep generous stores of provisions and extra men necessary to fight every likely scenario and build means to make them available at the right place, at the right time.

Keep the soldiers healthy, well trained, well equipped and highly motivated.

Select capable men as officers, so that their judgment prevails when plans fail. No amount of pedigree, sense of righteousness and good looks will kill the enemy.

Make sure discipline has been instilled in every member of the military, as it is essential to every step, from preparation to fighting.

The harder the training, the easier the battle.

Maintain security. Make sure your knowledge, items and people are safe from the enemy's grasp. Obscure your actions and intent from potential enemies. What is not known cannot be easily countered. Keep them guessing.

Foster a sense of camaraderie. Every soldier and officer should believe they are risking their lives along with their brothers in arms for a greater cause.

Unity among various parts of the military is essential. Infighting will render the rest of preparation useless.

Fighting

Prioritize out-thinking the enemy over outfighting them whenever you can, as fighting will always cost lives. Your priority should be never to die for your lord or country, but to make the enemy die for his.

Always keep the initiative. You should be the one deciding when and where the battle takes place.

Obscure your actions as much as possible. Give as little information to the enemy as possible.

Freedom of action:

Be mobile, so you have many courses of action available, but try to limit the enemy's, e.g. by building strong fortifications and destroying their supplies and communication channels.

Make the enemy dance to your tune, by limiting his freedom and making every other choice highly unpleasant.

Never put yourself in a position where there is only one course of action left.

Similarly, don't push the enemy into a corner where their only course of action is a suicidal charge unless you're prepared to completely wipe them out, as a desperate force can change the tides of battle.

Never break your force into chunks so small that they can be easily defeated.

A good defense can save you from defeat, but complete victory will usually require you to commit to offense.

Effective Offense:

If you don't have absolute superiority, find decisive points where you can have it and concentrate your attack there, but be careful that you don't weaken your force too much in the process.

If you have overwhelming advantage over the enemy, attack or try to force surrender.

If your strength is equal, hold and look for an opportunity, such as the enemy making a mistake.

If you are weaker, evade and look for opportunities to do damage.

If you are much weaker, retreat to a defensive position.

Qualities of a good leader:

Does not commit to a fight without knowing all likely consequences.

Is not a coward or a slave to emotions. Always makes decisions with a cool head.

Leads by example, to gain his men's trust.

Does not put honor above victory. Honor in defeat is a poor solace. Conversely, he should also not engage in unnecessary cruelty.

Isn't too attached to his soldiers. Sometimes the few must be sacrificed to save the many, and attachment can be an impediment to that.

Another important aspect is the mentality to have before and after a war:

In War: Resolution

In Defeat: Defiance

In Victory: Magnanimity

In Peace: Good Will

“This… is quite something. Some of it would be considered dishonorable and even downright despicable by the chivalry.” Lothar said.

“Good.” I said, smiling. “That means we will win battles and wars while they can die with their honor intact. Trust me, this document is worth more than a billion times it's weight in gold. It's the key to winning any battle and war, if only one applies it properly. How do you know about the knight's code anyway? I thought the Cha weren't allowed to join the military in any capacity.”

“We're not. I... have a complicated past. Maybe I'll tell you someday. That bit about attachment; is that why you don't mingle with most of the soldiers?” He asked.

I nodded in response. “If you had to order a soldier to hold a choke point to let others escape, knowing he would die, could you make it with the same speed if that soldier was your brother or a close friend, instead of some random guy?”

“No,” he said, with understanding dawning.

After weeks of theory and mock battles, the course was finished and most of the class passed. I had knives made for each officer and pinned an insignia on their chest at the graduation ceremony.

Even Lothar, who I had become close friends with, looked proud and stood straight as an arrow when I pinned the shiny steel insignia of General on his shirt. Seeing the formidable military and how close they were to me, the Elders also confirmed my position as the Supreme Leader of Chadom for life.

Take that, God.