Ummah Wahida 1911 on

[Guinness]

You guys are killing me :)

Actually, I've got *tons* of material queued up, but it's been busy, so cranking it out has been a problem (hence the poor proofreading). Was hoping to do a bunch today as I'm burning a vacation day today, but I've got a sick toddler instead. Typical: if I had to go to work today, he wouldn't be sick :(

But watch this space and see how the Habsburger war machine brought death and destruction down on the Ottomans in 1912.

[ctwaterman]

Uh.... *Hides his go Habsburger' Flag*   

Who are we supposed to be rooting for...  and whats the spread.... and the over and under

[Guinness]

Houshmand's platoon worked through the night, with no food or sleep. Still they were in good spirits, and sung patriotic and martial songs for much of the time.

The men were immediately impressed with Houshmand's work ethic. Most officers didn't work so hard. He dug as much as the burliest enlisted man and generally kept his mouth shut. When he thought the men needed direction, he gave it, but generally putting trench walls back behind wooden board wasn't complicated work. He didn't sing, mostly because he didn't know any of the words, but the men took that as a signal of his authoritative stoicism. By morning he was thoroughly covered in mud, his hands were blistered, and his body ached.

Come morning light he could finally survey the larger scene. The fortifications stretched in either direction to the horizon. He could also see how poorly maintained much of them had been. He could work for days and not repair this entire course of trench.

Food showed up in the form of a small catering kitchen on a wagon, serving a sort of stew out of giant steaming pots. Houshmand waited until all the men had a serving before filling his own tin bowl. His first reaction was that the stew was not good: it was both bland and overcooked. Still he made sure not to show his displeasure, and ate the entire serving. There was no way to know when he'd eat again. The men watched him eat with a odd appreciative pleasure.

Shortly after Ganem reappeared. He surveyed the work done the night before. "Very very good Lieutenant." He stepped down in to the trench and pulled on it's reinforcements. "Yes, very well done." Then he motioned to the Corporal that had been following in his wake. The Corporal handed down a revolver in a holster with ammunition. "Here you'll need a weapon. Also the Officers will take breakfast in a few minutes in the tent over there..." he motioned to at tent in the distance.

"Thank you sir, but I ate with the men." Houshmand tried to make it sound like that was a conscious decision, and not just because he didn't realize the officers would dine separately. Ganem squinted at him slightly.

"Well, then, if there is opportunity, there will be a midday meal. I hope you'll join us." He turned toward the area behind the Ottoman lines.

"The infantry should show up here this morning. They can take over whatever isn't done on this trenchline. After they get here, have your men get a couple of hours of rest. Then over there another line is staked out. Have them begin that line. Start with rifle pits, then expand as you have opportunity." Ganem climbed out of the trench. "Lieutenant, this afternoon I want your men to fall in to the regimental headquarters to be issued weapons. By the time the Habsburgers get here, they'll need to be infantrymen."

[Guinness]

By midday, Houshmand's platoon had rested, dug serviceable rifle pits, and were milling around near the HQ tent waiting for the quartermaster to issue rifles to the platoons queued ahead of them. Houshmand had joined the other officers from the engineering battalion for the midday meal. Talk immediately turned to what anyone knew about the Habsburger advance.

"Corps intelligence isn't sharing much, but from what I heard this morning, the enemy is moving quite deliberately. Still we expect them hear as soon as late tonight or in the morning. We should make sure we do whatever we can to be prepared, but don't start any projects we can't finish in half a day." The Major took a long sip of his tea. "I also heard that we can expect rolling artillery barrages, so maybe additional dugouts are a good idea."

The other officers all nodded in a agreement. The Major was used to being agreed with.

After eating, Houshmand gathered his platoon, then set them to work building themselves a dugout near their rifle pits. His insistence that it be quite deep upset some of the men, who were tired of digging. Sergeant Kocak though was supportive:

"Come on men! Dig! The Lieutenant just wants to make sure you get home to care for you women!"

Houshmand kept glancing in the direction of the Habsburger's expected advance. Back home, he might expect Hindu cavalry to come galloping over the hills in the distance and descend on him in short order.

The war here has a more deliberate pace, he thought, before going back to digging.

Houshmand had allowed himself and his platoon to get some sleep the following night, but before dawn was woken by the sound of artillery fire in the distance. Soon enough, the sound of explosions grew closer, until they were quite too close.

"The Hapsburgers are here!" one of the men yelled, pointing in the distance. Houshmand ordered his men into the rifle pits, and readied them for action.

[Guinness]

For Houshmand's platoon, the battle they expected didn't come.

By midday Kocak and Houshmand were standing outside the platoon dugout. Kocak pressed a pair of field glasses to his eyes.

"It looks like they've started digging in." He handed the glasses to Houshmand. "I don't think they'll be coming soon. Our men won't do much good just waiting for them to come."

Houshmand nodded. "Organize into three shifts. One shift digs, one shift rests, and one shift is ready for action at all times, at least until we get further orders."

Kocak went about rousing the men from their pits and getting them organized. Houshmand continued to study the enemy through his field glasses. It was a long way to the Habsburgers, certainly too far for effective small arms fire.

By dusk the infantry from the 3rd Janissaries they had been preparing the fortifications for finally arrived, and took up their position in the first two rows of parallel trenches. Houshmand felt more at ease with them there. For a while it felt like his platoon was holding the line all by themselves. Ganem came by to check on Houshmand's platoon's progress, which generally met with his satisfaction.

"IF an attack ever comes, you're men will be called upon to repair any damage or expand fortifications if necessary. Make sure they're ready. Oh and here..." Ganem handed Houshmand a folded sheet of paper. "You're mine now, well, at least you officially report to me. Those are your new posting orders. Hold on to them."

Houshmand slipped them in a pocket without reading them, then asked: "Do we have any idea when they'll come?"

"No. The way they're digging in, it seems like they plan to be here for a while. They'll do something to remind us they're here soon though, I'm sure."

With that, Ganem took his leave and began to walk back to the headquarters tent.

There was a deafening noise and a bright flash in the waning darkness. Houshmand was knocked from his feet. When he came back to his senses, there was nothing but a deep crater left where Ganem had been walking. The Habsburger artillery had begun it's work in earnest.

Houshmand ordered his men into the dugout.

[Guinness]

The platoon huddled together in the dugout for about an hour, but the enemy fire trailed off. Eventually he went out to have a look for himself. The Habsburgers still weren't coming, but the shelling had slacked off as well.

His men hardly slept that night. Periodically shells would fall nearby again, and everyone would pile back into the dugout. Then the cycle would repeat. At times, machine gun fire could be heard. The men were tense.

Houshmand told them about his experience fighting border skirmishes with Hindus. It was nothing like this. Few fortifications. Fluid battles on horseback. Still, battle is battle, and the men seemed to take heart in the fact that Houshmand at least had some experience.

The Ottomans were on their toes for days, as the Habsburgers seemed content to dig, shoot at them occasionally, and shell them periodically. The front settled into a sort of rhythm. Ganem was replaced by a Lieutenant named Murad.

One morning, Kocak returned from a trip to HQ with news. "We sent a few regiments into the lines a little north of here last night. Must have been what all that noise was."

Houshmand: "And?"

"Pushed back. Heavy casualties."

The next night, infantry from Houshmand's sector was sent across no-man's land. The scene was one of carnage, as most of them were cut down by machine gun fire. Their anguished cries prevented any sleep that night, but no Ottoman dared go out after them to tend to the wounded. Janissary infantry continued to trickle back into the trenches all night.

And so this is what this war is, Houshmand thought. He was dispirited, but took pains not to show it. How he'd rather have a horse and sword, then roll around in the dirt like a pig!

[Guinness]

When the real Habsburger assault came, it was unmistakable. Houshmand and his men huddled in the dugout for days of uninterrupted shelling. They were nervous. The dugout provided protection against shells bursting overhead, but not against a direct hit. And since the men couldn't leave, they were forced to relieve themselves in a bucket in the corner. The smell turned from unpleasant to awful in short order in the July heat.

When the shelling stopped, Houshmand knew what would be next. He ordered his men above. What they saw struck true fear in them all. Before them, hundreds of thousands of grey-clad Habsburger troops spilled out of their own trenches and began to cross to their lines.

The surviving Ottomans poured fire into the Habsburgers, but there were just too many, and too many breaks in the lines, too many guns knocked out. 3rd Janissary fought spiritedly throughout the day. By evening, the Habsburgers, stepping over their own dead, had taken the first trenchline, and were pushing up the communication trenches to the second.

"Come on men!" Houshmand climbed out of his rifle pit and sprinted the 25 yards or so to the start of the nearest communication trench. His men followed. They fought for more than an hour in that trench, losing several of their own, but taking many more Habsburgers with them. Later one of Houshmand's men would recollect: "we killed so many at one bend in that trench that they were stacked ten high."

Houshmand would have fought there all night if he could have, but his platoon was running out of ammunition. They hadn't started with much anyway. Instead the call came to pull out, and Houshmand's retreated as quickly as they could, covered by machine gun fire from behind.

[miketr]

An interesting story, looking forward to more.

[Guinness]

Houshmand and the rest of the elements of 3 Janissary marched through the night. At first the pace was quite quick, with Ottoman officers extolling the men to keep moving, in fear that the Habsburgers might be hot on their heels. By midnight the pace slowed, as it was not clear that the Habsburgers were not in hot pursuit. This figured, Houshmand thought. The scene they left behind was one of pure carnage.

Houshmand was hungry and tired, and more than a little bit numb. His eyes were tired and his ears were still ringing. But still he walked. Kocak, himself wearing a bandage on a superficial facial wound, tried his best to keep the platoon in line.

By 3 am, a Major on horseback rode up the road. "Lieutenant Houshmand? I'm looking for Lieutenant Houshmand!". Kocak nudged Houshmand, who hadn't heard him calling his name, then spoke up "Lieutenant Houshmand is here, sir!"

The Major slowed to walk and looked down on both men. "Well, Congratulations Lieutenant. You are the sole surviving officer of your Company in fighting shape. Take command. Here's new orders."

He handed down a sheet of paper, then trotted off. Houshmand opened it and read it.

"We're to rally near Zeleznik. The engineers batallion has been folded into the Infantry division proper for the moment." He stopped walking for a moment and stepped to the side of the road and pulled out a sad looking packet of maps. Kocak lit a match so they could see them.

After referring to the maps for a moment: "Kocak, can you see if you can find any of 2nd Platoon and pass the word that we'll assemble on the far side of the... what is this, yes... the Kolubara River, here." He pointed to a spot where the river begins to bend from it's Southwesterly course toward due south.

The men parted ways, and Houshmand trotted to catch back up with the platoon, which had dutifully kept marching. He wondered when they'd get to eat again.

[Guinness]

Houshmand's company managed to rally midday the following day, at a point about 13km southwest of Belgrade along the Kolubara.

"Sergeant, could you get me a headcount and an ammunition inventory, please?" Houshmand ordered, as he found a convenient sign post to lean up against. Most of the men, having identified a moment to get off their seat had sat down in the field next to a small farm house just on the river side of the main road.

Kocak found another sergeant and a few corporals, who divided up the men and took inventory. He returned a few minutes later.

"Everyone here at least is with our Company, which is good. We're down to about half strength plus a couple of corporals though. Not much if any ammunition, food or water."

"Water is easy," Houshmand observed, pointing toward the river. "Assign someone to find the locals and ask where the best place to draw it is. Then I want you to lead a foraging party. Be polite, but make sure everyone gets something to eat."

Looking north he observed some other elements of 3 Janissary already working to dig in. "After everyone is fed and gets a little rest, we'll need to get digging again."

[Guinness]

The Janissaries along the Kolubara settled into an uneasy routine. Taking shifts standing watch and digging a series of rifle pits that turned into a thin line of trenches by the third day there. This time, when Houshmand ordered digging of two deep dugouts, there was little complaint. Fortunately, the Habsburgers seemed to be in no hurry.

Eventually, Kocak was able to scare up some rifle ammunition from the impromptu battalion headquarters set up in a farmhouse just up the road. Food continued to be a matter of foraging, and Houshmand insisted that the company (such as it was) stockpile preservable food and enough water for another week's marching.

"You aren't expecting we'll stay here long?" Kocak observed. Houshmand just shook his head.

When the Habsburgers came, it was as part of a purposeful advance. The attack begins, as it did before, with an overnight artillery barrage. Houshmand's men, this time, waited out the barrage in the dugout in silence. Some even seemed to doze.

At dawn, the barrage stopped, and Houshmand emerged from the dugout to see thousands of gray-cladded Habsburger men across the river.

A furious rifle and machine gun fight at range resulted, punctuated by Habsburger artillery and Ottoman counter battery fire. Fortunately for Houshmand and his men, their battallion was near the anchor of the south end of the Ottoman line, and not on the main axis of Habsburger advance, so their casualties were light, only two men killed by a seemingly random shellburst.

The rest survived long enough to pull out when the order came after dark. The Habsburgers had succeeded in fighting their way across the river to the north. There was a not-insignificant amount of griping about the weight of their loads as the men fell into line to march, but Houshmand knew they'd appreciate that food and water later.

[Guinness]

3 Janissary fell back again to the south and east, this time as far as the area of Kosmaj, a march of 30 hilly kilometers. The march took about two days. Houshmand's men were tired, but thanks to his orders to prepare had full bellies, and were generally in good spirits. Again the Habsburgers were in no hurry to catch up with them.

And so the cycle of digging and preparing a spot to the south of the tall mountain began again. This time the Ottomans had a week to prepare. 3 Janissary was depleted, and Houshmand spent large parts of those days consulting on fortifications for other units. In less than a week he'd gone from being a green and undereducated new engineering officer to the resident expert on field fortifications, such was the savage beating 3 Janissary's officer corps in general, and it's engineering officers in particular had taken.

When the "Grey Tide" as his men had taken to referring to the Habsburger infantry made it's appearance, their outright numerical superiority was well in evidence. This time the artillery barrage seemed almost perfunctory. The Habsburgers knew they had the Ottomans well outnumbered.

Again they attack in the morning, after the sun is high enough so as not to be in the eyes of the attackers. The Habsburgers preceed attacks with well coordinated artillery barrages. Houshmand's men, not able to retreat to the dugouts for fear that the Habsburgers will be upon them hunker down in their trenches and wait. Many are killed by artillery.

After several probes and receeding charges, and many tons of artillery and machine gun fire thrown at the attackers, on the morning of the 3rd day the real attack comes. By this time Houshmand's company had already lost a third of it's remaining manpower dead or wounded.

Houshmand could see the Habsburgers massing and spilling out of their trenches. His company's only servicable machine gun, which Kocak had scrounged second hand two days before, opened up and mowed down scores of the enemy, but they keep coming.

Houshmand extorted to his men: "Here now, we finally stand and fight. Alahu Ackbar!"

"Alahu Ackbar" they answered, and the call carried up the Ottoman lines.

The next hour was an orgy of blood and steel. The Ottoman troops are tired, but fight with spirit, and give no ground. Their volume of fire is simply not enough to turn back the Habsburgers, who in a flash are in the Ottoman trenches. The fighting became a much more personal affair.

Houshmand, having emptied the rifle he'd appropriated then empties his revolver. Without a sword, he resorts to fighting the enemy with the blunt end of his rifle, and after losing that, a shovel.

With the sun high in the sky on an otherwise lovely day, Houshmand felt it. It wasn't so much a pain, as a strange, hot sensation. He looked down and saw the blood emerging from his gut and fell to his knees, dizzy. The last thing he could sense was the two strong hands on his shirt near it's collar, before he lost consciousness.

[Walter]

An orgy of blood and steel. No doubt that the Evil Huns love every second of it. ;D

[Kaiser Kirk]

Hmm missed the last three of these. Situation went from bad to worse. Gut wounds were quite bad things in that era.

[Guinness]

Yeah, I need to get moving again...