When I was asked to write something on the Seven
Years' War, I jumped at the chance because in
Continental Europe Frederick the Great and the
Eighteenth Century do not, in any way, take a backseat
to the Napoleonic Era. This is a situation which has been
created in the United States almost entirely due to the
patterns of commercial imports. For this reason alone, the
Eighteenth Century has always posed difficulties for a
game designer who could only avail himself of English
language literature.
This became immediately evident when I obtained a packaged boardgame and a pamphlet aimed at figure gainers, so that I might see what was being done on both sides of the fence. I searched for the armies of the Eighteenth Century and the dynamics of both the traditional and the Frederician linear battle. I found neither. The shell, the nomenclature, the trappings, they were there to be sure -- But that's all!
Stepping back into time, we leave behind the 'gizmos' and the 'doodads', which have come to rule modern military thinking and which have become so dear to the slide rule experts. Instead, the soldier, the human factor, comes to the foreground again. And when he does, he is not only a creature far different from us, there is also not enough technology around to bury him beneath at least three layers of statistics. However, even when it comes to the matter of statistics, the technological experts seem to have been struck dumb by 50 frightfully complicated a contraption as the muzzle-loading, smoothbore, flintlock musket!
Pop History
I don't know how many times I have seen British pop historians extol the 'accuracy' of British smoothbore musketry. Anyone with but a smattering of knowledge about the interior and exterior ballistics of the Brown Bess, or any other smoothbore musket, knows that such talk is pure balderdash, inspired by 'hooray-for-our-boys' style of thinking, which has no basis in historical fact. What they probably wnated to talk about, was "fire discipline," a trademark of Wellington's Peninsular veterans, which has been expanded forward and backwards into different periods.
However, this is not by any means the only false lead thrown into the game designer's path, nor is this in any way confined to British pop historians. Pop knows no nationality. Or rather, it comes in all nationalities. Few fighting men have been subjected to more apocrypha than, for example, the American rifleman.
One expert, writing for one of our best known gun magazines, even expressed the notion once that the term 'sharpshooter' was probably derived from the Sharps rifle, because of its superior accuracy!
In the face of such material, the game designer of pre- 1900 models is faced with many difficulties. And the further back he would step into time, the greater becomes the hurdle imposed by illiteracy. That is to say, the memoirs written by junior officers and enlisted men which generally offer the best insight on what really went down on the firing line, becomes increasingly rare.
This condition changes drastically only when we get into the Napoleonic Era. Here, even if much still remains in manuscript, we have ample evidence presented by men from the ranks. Far more importantly, the style of warfare had loosened up to a point, reports of their units' activity when combats occurred, thereby opening a vast repository of the 'worm's eye' view which is so constantIy lacking in the military histories.
I believe it was the Mareshal de Saxe who said: "...don't speak to me of generals, tell me of lieutenants, then you are speaking of war...!" I can no longer vouch for the exact wording, but the idea the marshal expressed remains crystal clear in my mind. And it is this which poses the real challenge to the game designer.
Worm's Eye View
As we reach back into time, the 'worm's eye' view
becomes increasingly remote. Indeed, the view from the
ranks becomes so rare that, in 1901, the Prussian
General Staff thought it instructive to publish a collection
of letters discovered in the archives of the Stolberg family,
which had been written by common soldiers who had
taken part in the campaigns of 1756/57 and the battles of
Lobositz and Prague.
Thus, when the researcher delves even into a technical treatise on military history, he is generally left to play the role of a would-be suitor who has been stood up by his date. Not even the rare drill manuals help much in his quest for a realistic game design. What he generally ends up with is comparable to a treatise on how he may align his chessmen on the two base lines and what manner of moves each piece is allowed to make. Having added to that the conditions for 'check' and 'mate', he is now expected to know all there is to know about the chess game. Tennis, anyone?
In order to determine just how an action might actually burn off, he must now turn to the general histories. But what he gets there is exactly w'hat the old marshal was complaining about -- the big picture. More generals, battalions and squadrons moved about, brushed aside, routed. Next thing you know, the line is breached, the flank is turned, one side heads for the hills or the single bridge across the river, with the cavalry in hot pursuit! Its all very exciting, but what went down while the decision hung in the balance? What was the ranker's eye view?
When the pop historians do descend to the view as seen from the ranks, the best we can generally expect is a lot of legend, apocrypha intended to be patriotic, uplifting and what not. And when it comes to explaining the reasons for success or failure, ideology must be brought into play. The arsenal of democracy, as well as its opponents, and their readers, demand this. Such is the power of ideology, nationalism and romance. In the process, the truth usually takes a flogging and it doesn't help the game designer one bit in his search for realism.
How, in the face of all these obstacles, can we transpose the Seven Years War onto the game table? I am neither a wargamer nor a game designer. What I can do, however, is construct a realistic model of the traditional linear battle and how it was altered by Frederick the Great and point out those elements which were characteristic and decisive. From this, it should be a simple matter for the game designer to abstract a set of rules that reflect the original.
Linear Tactics
Linear tactics was the ultimate answer to a new set of conditions imposed upon warfare by the fusil, the muzzle loading, smoothbore, flintlock musket.
In their original state, the precursors of the fusil were dangerous weapons when loaded, but no more than expensive and fragile clubs between firings. For this reason, it was necessary to protect the musketeer with pikemen, while at least half of the musketeers were to be loaded and ready at all times. In order to achieve the latter condition while at the same time maintaining a steady rate of fire, the musketeers were generally ranked about eight deep and delivered their fire by ranks.
Although this belongs properly in the Thirty Years' War or the Seventeenth Century, let's pause briefly and construct a model in order to see how myths were made.
Assuming a company of eighty musketeers, these would be deployed ten men to a rank, eight deep. With four ranks loaded and ready for emergencies at all times, the pace was set by the remaining four ranks which would, at the same time, be working. A practiced musketeer could load his matchlock in little less than a minute under combat conditions.
Don't be fooled by the 976 individual loading movements so many texts delight in enumerating. That was only for the purpose of training. Give the musketeer about a minute and allow another twenty seconds for him to step out of the way and for the man from behind to take his place. That leaves a working space of eighty seconds between rounds. Divide this into four ranks working and we can safely assume that our company of eighty delivered a ten musket volley about every twenty seconds. Or, firing through all eight ranks, our company would deliver its eight volleys in the space of about two minutes and forty seconds. Say three minutes to allow for odds and ends.
If each man in our company fires, say, twelve rounds in the course of a given battle, the sample company fired through its ranks twelve times around. Assuming three minutes (add to this a few more minutes, say nine, for minor maneuvers, delays in command, etc.) our company spent something on the order of forty five minutes in the small arms fire zone. For an old time battle, that's a lot of minutes.
Yet, some brilliant theoretician, who had probably never fired a musket, much less seen a battlefield, saw from a report about a Thirty Years' War battle, that the musketeers had expanded twelve rounds of ammunition per man. Knowing that the battle had lasted some three hours from opening gun to finish, this brilliant statistician deduced that, by dividing three hours or one hundred and eighty minutes into twelve, the number of rounds the musketeer expended, that it took them fitteen minutes to load their muskets.
Posterity quoted this genius so often that, even in relatively modern works, we are left with the impression that a matchlock musketeer needed the better part of a quiet Sunday morning to reload his piece after he had fired it! I have seen a man fire a matchlock, loose ammunition and all, twice in less than a minute, starting with an unloaded barrel!
With the appearance of the bayonet, the pikemen became redundant and paper cartridges as well as improved firing mechanisms soon brought the musketeer formations down to six and, eventually, four ranks. At this point, the linear system had achieved the characteristic form, in which we are to find it at the onset of the First Silesian War.
Ballistics
Owing to ballistic limitations, individual musket fire was not effective at ranges above about eighty yards. Thus, the shotgun effect of volleys, fired by musketeers packed into close formations, was to accomplish what individual fire could not do -- score an appreciable number of hits in an instant.
In the linear model, we are not confronted with the impressions of war or with a steady drain of casualties, but with the periodic and physical shock of sustaining multiple casualties, volley by volley. As the range closed, the number of casualties multiplied correspondingly, exerting the strong psychological pressure of awaiting the next hail of musketry with increasing apprehension.
In order to achieve this offensive shock, the musketeer formations had been increasingly flattened out and these broad fronts presented an ideal target upon which the opponent might exert his own firepower. Added to this was the difficulty of deploying and moving such long lines without undue confusion.
Fire Control
Fire control was handled out of the battalion front, the basic tactical unit, by dividing it vertically into divisions, companies and/or platoons and, horizontally, into ranks. As may be expected in such a system of tactics, there were numerous firing systems, all of which were assidiously practiced on the parade ground but rarely used in battle. There, it was soon realized that even the most simple evolutions were difficult enough. But such experience was generally short lived. Out of sight, out of mind, the parade ground mentalities quickly asserted themselves again, once the escapades conducted with live ammunition were over.
Still concerned with maintaining a fire reserve, that is, to keep at least half the men loaded and ready, fire was generally delivered by ranks -- sometimes simultaneously out of the entire battalion front, sometimes out of the division or platoon front. During this period, the cavalry and most of the artillery functioned as anything but one of the combined arms and more often than not fought its own little war.
Traditional Linear Battle
We may now construct a model of the traditional linear battle as seen through the eyes of a young Frederick William or a seasoned veteran like the Old Dessauer.
Having arrived on the chosen battlefield, both commanders would arrange their forces in accordance with a prescribed ritual which Dr. Bleckwenn has described so aptly as a ballet, accompanied by fireworks.
Arranged in two long lines, one did not keep the best infantry in reserve, because the linear battle aimed at a knockout blow in the first round. Thus, it was deployed up front, where it counted. If the front was too long to be manned entirely by good infantry, one made certain that the best stood on the flanks, with some dispersed through the front to act in the manner of corset stays.
If a separate advance guard and attacking force was assembled, one generally used the greandiers for that. However, one also spared out some of the best for the flanks of the second line, because a rear flank was just as sensitive as a front flank.
Having gotten this far, one now divided the cavalry into two halves, which were deployed on both flanks, cuirasseirs in front, dragoons behind. If one had hussars, they were generally set aside for irregular duties since they really had no place in the line. If one was fortunate enough to have one flank anchored upon some natural terrain obstacle as a river or lake, one might exploit the expected victory.
Fortified towns also rated highly as anchors for the line. Last to be in place, were the guns. That's why everyone waited for the artillery to sound the 'opening gun', thereby insuring that all was ready to begin.
If all of this has a certain sarcastic ring to it, this has been my intention. There was something almost unreal about these baroque battles. And nothing illustrates this better than the much celebrated argument between two idiots at Fontenoy, who argued over who should have the privilege of firing the first volley! One must not judge these gentlemen too harshly for they were entirely the product of their time.
But, in the light of what was to follow, it is safe to assume that Frederick the Great would have cashiered either one of them for risking to have several dozens of well trained men entrusted to their care blown away on a point of nicety. Now back to our model.
To the accompanyment of the ensuing artillery duel, conducted by the battery pieces, the cavalry would generally dash forward to engage the enemy's cavalry. More often than not, the victor of these encounters would pursue the loser right off the battlefield and thus not be present in force when the infantry needed time to exploit its success or to protect it from further disaster in case of a failure.
Even though there are numerous varieties on the theme, this is the way it went on average. For this reason, a vigorous cavalry pursuit, as seen after the battles of Jena and Waterloo, was unheard of. Even Frederick's Prussians, who were to be far more vigorous, scored well in this department only after Leuthen. Here too, the effort was rather mild, when compared to later times.
Maintaining alignment with his neighbors, the battalion commander would bring his troops forward into the outer edge of the small arms fire zone, that is to say, about 250 to 300 yards from the enemy line. At this stage, most of the position batteries, who had opened the battle, would be masked by friendly forces and forced to move in order to stay in the game. This, of course, would remove it from action at the critical time, which was about to come.
Having reached the point, where musketry could enter into the action, brigade or division would give the order to commence firing, unless the battalion commander had not already ordered this on his own. Having specified which type of firing sequence was to be used, all the officers, from wing or division, down to brigade and battalion, kept a close eye on the enemy's line to observe the effect the fire was having.
Signs
If, after a few rounds, the signs were good, that is to say a few ragged volleys were heard in response and the wind was blowing in the right direction, bothering the other side more than his own, the commander who had been charged with the directive to attack, would take his line forward another thirty or forty paces. Established and realigned in the new firng line, round two is about to begin. Casualties are still relatively light.
It was symptomatic of the times, that both sides would generally open up far beyond what was considered to be the effective range of the muskets. Part of this, certainly, was nerves. But it is also on the nerves, that this malpractice had a certain beneficial effect. At 300 yrds, hits would be few and, unless a man was hit in the face, the wounds would, on average, be relatively light. Certainly, at that range, the ball fired from a smoothbore musket could not penetrate the layers of crossbelts and lapels covering a man's chest. At the same time, it gave the new soldier a chance to become acustomed to the noise and settle into a battlefield routine, before he found out that at the shorter ranges, things would become far different!
Even when the range got down to 200 yards, far more rounds continued to go astray than find their target, not withstanding even a perfect aim. Such were the limits of the smoothbore. Once, however, the action got down to about 150 yards, things began to get bad. Not only did the number of hits rise to appreciable proportions, but the musket ball now had real clout, enough to spin a man around and/or knock him down.
Here usually began that dreaded stage of the fire fight, which would resolve itself in one way or another in a matter of just a very few minutes. Both sides would blaze away at each other until one or the other began to run short of ammunition, courage or blood. Here is also where fire control usually went to blazes. One platoon leader might retain control over his men while in another, the men had taken the bit and began what the Prussians called Bataillenfeuer, (battle fire). This was very much frowned upon, to put it mildly, but virtually inevitable, once the action got close and the men began to fire at will. Soon, one side had to give way, but which would it be?
Critical Point
At this critical point, the battalion commander's most reliable soldiers are those who are in a relatively mild state of shock, that is to say, their senses have become numbed to the point where they have become disinterested bystanders, reacting almost entirely by the rote of the long and monotonous drill which had been pounded into them on the drillgrounds. There are, of course, a few psychotics and others who have hyperventillated and/or gone hysterical. Some of these will soon fire their ramrod away and go through the motions of reloading their muskets without one until a noncom takes notice and pushes a replacement taken from a fallen man into his hand.
The remainder may still have sufficient wits about them to realize that this is really no place to be. We have now reached that stage where anything at all can set things off, in either direction! It is here, during these brief moments, when the internal cohesion of a unit, which is the result of so many variables of both a permanent and more transient nature, can spell the difference between victory and defeat. The human factor has now entered into the picture and it is not easy to quantify it from one day to the next.
The pressures on the soldier become extreme, because the nervous system is no longer capable of distinguishing incoming from outgoing volleys, whether they come from 150 yards across, up or down the line. They all sound the same and each sends its own shockwave through the brain. The ranks begin to thin and the screams of the wounded and dying intermingle with the falsetto voices of the officers and noncoms, setting up a mad cacaphony. Here and there, a pikeswinging noncom prods or beats a man who attempted to break away back into the line. Something must give!
If, at this stage, the battalion commander, with the help of what remains of his staff, can succeed in stopping his men from firing, to get them to level bayonets and go forward, he has won the day on his own battlefront of 150 yards or so. If this move carries the neighboring battalions along, then a larger victory beckons!
The question of whether or not this takes place in the space of ten, fifteen or twenty minutes after the firing line has come up to the edge of the small arms zone, whether it happens all at once in a steady movement or on a second try, is largely a matter of the effect of incoming and outgoing fire at different ranges and of how well command succeeded in retaining control. Some units fail on ten percent casualties, others can take twenty percent, before they are beaten back. But then again, either can come back and succeed after casualty rates have passed forty or even fifty percent and morel!
The firing line in motion, of course, had the choice to hang back and conduct the firefight at ranges of about 200 yards, rather than come in close.
One also had the choice of letting the other side come on. This was the modus operandi of those who deemed themselves the weaker or the wiser. It was, of course, a decided advantage to force the offensive on the opponent, no matter what the reason. A firing line remaining in place could deliver a steadier volume of fire.
Those advancing had to cease firing in order to advance and an extra three or four volleys could make all the difference in precipitating a crisis amongst the attackers before the critical moment came to the defenders. The stationary line was also possessed of a certain inertia while the attackers, although possessed of a certain momentum, would also be more prone to fall into disorder.
If a prolonged firefight was conducted at long ranges, there inevitably came the time when the musket bores became so fouled that the recoil became unbearable or the ball could no longer be driven down the barrel. This meant that the bores had to be scraped either in the firing line or a replacement unit had to be brought up from the second line. At such times, the very last thing our battalion commander wanted to hear, was the patter of ironshod hooves.
The costumes may indeed have made all this appear like a ballet accompanied by fireworks but, then as now, it was a Hell of a way to make a living! Linear tactics was a harsh mistress, extremely wasteful of the carefully trained men she demanded.
From this, it may now be readily seen that the infantry action was the key to the entire system. No matter what everyone else did, so long as the infantry line was intact, nothing had been gained. Once it was broken, it was the beginning of the end. This infantry battle took place across a very small strip of no-man's land, no more than 250 yards deep.
At the same time, the psychological pressures exerted upon the man in the ranks under this system, must not be confused with what the modern soldier generally experiences. Lines remaining in place on the baseline for hours on end might be subjected to a steady drain of casualties from the position batteries, when and if these found the range, but a unit brought forward into the smallarms fire zone could only be kept there for a relatively short time.
And once the range got down to under two hundred yards, things began to happen fast. Here, if the gunners stuck to their guns, the battalion artillery began to fire cannister which, at 150 yards, made musketry look like Sunday School!
The game designer, who approaches the linear battle in terms of moving a marker onto a field adjacent to the opponent to determine who wins on the roll of the dice, has bypassed the entire battle. I would call it the equivalent of the ultimate chessgame -- Checkmate in one move! At the same time, there is no such thing as moving and firing on the same turn. You may do one or the other, not both! Moving a line a mere twenty yards and realigning it afterward, is easily worth one volley!
Indeed, a game based on the linear system ought really to be played in two distinct phases: the operational and the tactical. This will become readily apparent when we examine how Frederick and the Prussians unbent the linear system in the next issue. There, Frederick will attempt to gain the advantage in deployment, even before the Prussian method of fire control comes into play.
More Linear Tactics
Response: Letter to Editor (v2n6)
Back to Table of Contents -- Courier Vol. 2 #4
To Courier List of Issues
To MagWeb Master Magazine List
© Copyright 1981 by The Courier Publishing Company.
This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web.
Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com