The Face of Battle

Well, we were called together at work today. Seems that someone in the office has been diagnosed with the antibiotic-resistant strain of Staph infection. How wonderful for us. What makes me excited is this morning I cut my thumb. Making sure to keep that safe and covered now, thank you very much. We had decorated the office with all kinds of Halloween junk to get ready for next week when we'll have 800 kids in to get candy.(ugh) Everybody had to run around and pull everything down so that a cleaning crew could come through this evening to make sure the palce is spotless. Nothing will be skipped. mice, keyboards, monitors and desks will be sprayed and wiped clean this evening. Joyous day.

Average time was better today. had a couple of lousy weeks with calls. Can't seem to get off calls like I should. Still fixing issues, getting frustrated. Things are ok, though.

Seems today is another important day. Today marks the anniversary of the Battle of Agincourt during the Thirty Year's War between England and France. Watching the battles of today, it's hard to imagine a time when two sides met face to face and slept only a short distance away from those they knew they would be killing the next day.

the British were exhausted. After landing in France they had begun a long trek around the northern part of France, living off the land as much as they could. They had already landed a tremendous blow to the French at Crecy, owing largely to their specialized unit, the Longbowman.

Trained almost from birth, each man could be expected to draw a bow with 150 lbs of force, 100 lbs on the right arm, 50 on the left. And they were expected to fire several times each minute, with amazing accuracy. They were up against the knights of France, a place were chivalry still prevailed. The English, in comparison, had only a handful on knights with them.

Several factors play into the victory of England, an amazing feat for the time. Most scholars put the difference in numbers at 20,000 French to 6,000 English troops. most of the French were knights in full armor. The French had learned from the mistakes of Crecy and most had dismounted for battle. The English were mostly longbowmen, wearing simple leather armor. The were backed up by English nobles fighting on foot.

The English chose the ground upon which to fight. The picked an excellent spot to defend, an upward slope, flanked on either side by dense woods. They drove deep wooden spikes into the ground before them, making what they hoped to be a deadly obstacle for man or beast. What the English didn't know about this land is that the soil was of a strange compound quite firm when dry, but almost a mire when wet. It would play into their favor.

The night before the battle, the English were miserable. They had been on an almost constant march for weeks. The supply train was nearly exhausted and food was sparse. The ground was cold and wet, owing to the seasonal rains. Down the hill, they could hear the French, obviously drunk, enjoying the food and warm fires. No one slept well.

The morning came with a rousing speech from King Henry V. Probably not as beautiful as the words penned by Shakespeare, but still a good one. King Henry promised each noble that if they were captured in battle, they would assuredly be bought back by the king, a common practice in that time. The French were, however, disgusted at the thought that commoners could be soldiers. Therefore, Henry told the longbowmen, they had better fight for their lives.

Henry hoped for a defensive fight, and after a bit of coaxing and mocking, got it. As the fog rolled away, the nobles still mounted bounded up the hill. Eager for blood, they were met by the spiked wall in front of them. they were unable to encircle the longbowmen owing to the dense forests on either side and found themselves being fired upon from three sides. The horses were especially susceptible to this barrage, being only armored in the front. The French knights turned to run.

By this point, the dismounted knights had begun the slow ascent up the hill. The horses, with nowhere else to go, plowed through and trampled entire rows of men. The bodies became more obstacles on the hill, slowing the army down to a crawl.

The mud was worse than they thought. The knights were being sucked down into the mud, owing to their non-porous armored boots. The mud would pull them in, then a vacuum would develop, making movement almost impossible. The English longbowmen took full advantage of this, their light, porous material moved easily through the mud. Using the daggers and clubs at their disposable, they darted in and out of the lines of Frenchmen, stabbing them in the sensitive areas, underarms, necks, and the like. Or they just beat them to death with the clubs. You use what you have. Meanwhile, the line continued to push forward, and the sharpened poles saw their first victims. Being pushed from behind, the French had two choices. Wait to be stabbed to death by the longbowmen, or be impaled by the poles. The wailing from the French was deafening.

The French King saw things differently, however. Thinking the cries he was hearing were those of the slain Englishmen, he sent his a second wave of men forward, packing the line almost 25 men deep. The carnage from the pushing was extraordinary.

This story has everything. A tremendous upset, especially. But here we have the innovation of the times beating the remnants of a lost age. The Knights, the backbone of the medieval army, upset for the third time by an army made up mostly of trained, professional soldiers. A day when, if I may steal from John Keegan, changed the very Face of Battle.