NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is basically a closed thread, but informed persons are welcome to make comments OOC. Let’s just not lose the narrative in too many comments.

And now on to our story...

OOC: Just to avoid the usual weirdness of having everything magically happen on January 1st of the first year of any new game, I’m pushing the beginning of this thread back to November 8th, 1859 (a couple months before the start of the game), strictly for literary purposes. The actual changes implemented won’t be made until the game begins in 1860…

Der Schőnbrunn, Vienna
November 8th, 1859

“Have tea brought up here, and then leave me,” commanded the Emperor of Austria. “I want to be alone for a while.”

After the servants had come and gone, Franz Josef I, Emperor of Austria, King of Hungary, Bohemia, and half a dozen other places sat and brooded. Then when he got tired of sitting and brooding, he rose, cup of tea in hand, went to the window, looked out over a rain-soaked Vienna, and brooded standing for a change.

1859 had been a very bad year, and if he didn’t do something about it, 1860 was going to be even worse.

In Zurich, his diplomats were putting into formal language the agreement that he had reached in personal negotiations with Napoleon III at Villafranca last July; and yet the sad truth was that this “Treaty of Zurich” - the “final peace” that would formally end the recent Austro-Sardinian War - would be a dead letter before the ink was dry. That Sardinian b_st_rd Cavour and his allies were intent on breaking every aspect of the deal that could possibly be broken, and their French patrons were either unwilling or unable to stop them.

No, Italian nationalism was raging out of control, and like German nationalism, it would need to be contained – for the good of Austria and for the good of Europe.

At Villafranca, he thought he had come up with a solution to the problem: an Italian Confederation, just like the German one, with Austria as a member due to its ownership of Italian lands. With the Pope as the President of the Confederation, Franz Josef had hoped that Italian nationalism could be assuaged, diverted, satisfied with a kind of quasi-Federalism, as it had - partially, anyway - in Germany by the German Confederation. But that wasn’t going to happen now that the Sardinians were moving fast to consolidate their gains at the expense of everyone else, a situation that would soon leave Austria facing a united, hostile Italy to the south.

And that brought the Italian problem directly into contact with the German problem: Prussia was to Germany what Sardinia was to Italy – an aggressive, nationalistic force – and there was little hope that it would long stay in the box that Austria had driven it into ten years ago, when the Prussians had been forced into the humiliating Punctation of Olmütz. After all, Austria had enjoyed Russian help in that endeavour; it would not enjoy such help again.

No, sooner or later, Prussian would be back to causing mischief with its plans for a Kleindeutschland that would effectively marginalise Austria; and when that happened, the Prussians and the Sardinians would make common cause. Such an alliance was only natural. That it was natural, however, made it no less serious, because Austria would need every man it could spare to deal with Prussia when the time came to do so. It didn’t need and could ill afford an Italian diversion.

Franz Josef poured himself another cup of tea, paused - and then shook his head angrily. What am I thinking? he scolded himself. It doesn’t matter what I do to try to diplomatically outmanoevre my enemies; if we fight as miserably against the Prussians as we fought against Italy, we have no hope at all against anybody.

The Austrian Emperor reflected bitterly on the recent war, and especially his own humiliation at Solferino. He had led his army in the biggest battle since Leipzig in 1813 – with numerical superiority and better weaponry, not to mention a superior position on higher ground, one bolstered by several strong stone structures – and had still been defeated in a 16-hour battle. Why?

Like any defeated general, he had spent weeks wondering what he could have done to have led his men to victory. Ultimately, he had come to the conclusion that there had been nothing at all wrong with his generalship; indeed, even foreign observers had commented favourably on his troop dispositions and strategy. No, Solferino had been lost before the war had even begun, just like every other battle Austria had fought that summer.

His countrymen had been defeated because they had not prepared properly to fight the war before them. If they were to win the next conflict, then, they would have to be better prepared.

Franz Josef resolved to see to it that they were.

OOC: In every alternative history, there comes a point at which something different happens, causing the whole of what follows to shear away, in what some have called “the Butterfly Effect”. Austria began 1860 humiliated from its recent war with France and Sardinia, facing the need to make changes in its military if it was no do better in the future.

And, indeed, changes were made. They just weren’t the right ones.

But this time…

Der Schönbrunn, Vienna
November 8th, 1859

According to military experts throughout the world, Austria’s defeat at the hands of the French and Sardinians was due to superior French élan; the French had won by using the tactics they’d developed in North Africa: forming into a loose skirmish line and charging in full tilt to rout the Austrians with the bayonet. These same experts argued that the contradictory lessons gleaned a few years earlier in the Crimea were worthless: the Russians had failed to defeat rifle-armed Allied forces because they no longer possessed the indomitable spirit they had enjoyed in the 18th Century, under the legendary General Suvorov.

Franz Josef thought that this was so much garbage.

If there was one thing you could always count on a Russian soldier doing in a pinch, it was to close and engage with the bayonet. Franz Josef simply refused to believe that the Russians were any less motivated during their recent dust-up with the British, French, and Sardinians then they had been in any of their previous wars against the French, the Prussians, the Turks, the Swedes, the Poles, or anybody else who crossed their paths; the Russians were the Russians, and that was that. Now, if you’re talking about musketry. the Austrian Emperor thought, that’s a different story. The Russians had never been good at shooting things; but they’d always had the spirit and skill to close with the bayonet and use it to tremendous effect. What’s that old saying of theirs? he sought to recall. Ah, yes: “Bullets are foolish, bayonets are wise.”

Insufficient spirit indeed! Franz Josef harrumphed to himself.

Nor did the Austrian Emperor believe that the Russians were any less spirited than the French. If all it takes to overcome rifles is élan, he thought, the Crimean War would have ended very differently indeed.

No, it wasn’t a lack of Russian fighting spirit that had made the difference – or a surfeit of French fighting spirit for that matter. It was a lack of Austrian marksmanship. Lead can puncture and deflate the most spirited battalion, he thought, but only if you can throw enough of it in front of them.

But why guess? he asked himself. We can test this proposition scientifically. And with that, he withdrew a sheaf of paper from the desk, took up his fountain pen, and began to write letters to his senior officers.

Der Schönbrunn, Vienna
January 18th, 1860

The officers sat around a large set of tables, pulled together in a square so that all could see each other. One end of the square was open, and at the open end were a set of rolling chalkboards and a few more tables bearing rifled muskets as demonstration pieces. Facing the chalkboards sat Emperor Franz Josef of Austria; everyone having taken their seats, his officers all politely waited for him to speak.

“I have asked several of you to look into the causes of our recent defeat,” he began. He then looked at all of them carefully. “Understand that I am not interested in assigning blame. I accept the blame, as should you – all of you.” Franz Josef paused for another moment before continuing. “We all did less that we could have done – or should have done – and now we must face up to that and take corrective measures. Our next war must end in victory.”

There was silence. The Emperor continued.

“Major von Herwarth,” the Habsburg ruler said, half as an order and half as an introduction, “I think I’d like to begin with your findings.”

The Major rose and began his talk.

He began by repeating the Emperor’s initial thought process on the question of whether the results of the Austro-Sardinian War could be wholly or even primarily attributable to superior French élan, although he never attributed his ideas to Franz Josef; the two had agreed that it was better if these ideas seemed to be coming from a lowly Major rather than the Habsburg Emperor himself. He quickly reviewed those actions from the Crimean War that demonstrated the lethal power of rifled muskets, taking care at the same time to praise the excellent fighting spirit of the Russian forces whose efforts had been repelled by storms of lead. As he spoke, he used the chalkboard behind him to demonstrate some of his points.

From there, he proceeded to a discussion of the recent fighting in Italy. He stressed how the French had not, as was commonly claimed, run roughshod over Austrian forces; of how their best successes came on broken or constricted ground. He cited examples of French regiments turned back or even very nearly decimated by Austrian jägers, before pointing out how – in the final struggle at Solferino – even ordinary Austrian line infantry had roughly handled French charges when deployed in firing lines behind good cover.

By now, however, the Major was drawing fire of his own from several directions. A large part of the army had accepted the common explanation of the outcome at face value and was agitating for Austria to place greater emphasis in bayonet tactics, especially utilising fast-moving columns – what some were calling ”stosstaktik” – “shock tactics”. To these officers, the observations of a devotee of fire tactics were rank heresy.

Franz Josef did nothing to curb their criticism, but he did meet the Major’s eye often enough and signal his support with a smile or an eyebrow to keep the man determined enough to stand his ground. He wanted this fight to run its course.

“You can’t tell me,” snapped one Oberst, “That our defeat was caused by a general refusal to deploy troops in skirmish or firing line instead of column of divisions!”

“Of course not,” replied the Major, maintaining his calm masterfully. “I cite the example of how regiments in line – skirmish or thick, it does not matter – were far more successful in meeting or turning back French attacks than troops that deployed to meet such attacks in column or even column of divisions,” he began, “Because it demonstrates my basic point: that the volume of fire generated by a unit in facing such a charge is the single most important factor in determining success in repelling it.” There were mumbles of protest around the table, but the Major persisted. “Between any two line regiments chosen at random, we can expect roughly equal competence with the Lorenz rifled musket, and so - on the average - the one factor determining the quantity of fire generated in any given situation would be the defending regiment’s formation. There’s a direct correlation between the level of firepower generated – as well as the lack of cover that the French could use to defeat it – and success in throwing back any given French attack.”

“To me, this doesn’t mean that we should order all units to fight in line at all times,” he continued. “That would be a facile conclusion. But it does tell me that we should strive to throw as much lead at our enemies as possible, whatever our circumstance or formation of the moment, and that if we can get the volume of fire up high enough, even the Furia Francese can be turned back.”

Now Franz Josef startled everyone by asking a question: “If that is so, Major,” and as he began to speak, silence filled the room. “And it is simply volume of fire you want without regard for a unit’s formation,” the Emperor continued slowly, “How do you suggest that we get it?”

Der Schönbrunn, Vienna
January 18th, 1860

The Major smiled. It was a set-up; the Emperor had assured him that he would get a fair chance to present his findings, but had promised no action until after the Major had managed to defend his position; now he was being given that chance. “I would increase the firepower our troops can generate in several ways, Your Highness.”

“First,” he began, “We spend too little time in target practice.” There were more murmurs of discontent around the room. It was true, after all: the Austrian officer corps had little appreciation for marksmanship, having learned their tactics by looking back half a century to the Napoleonic Wars. Just pointing your muskets in the general direction of the enemy was enough marksmanship to win a battle, they thought – but the Major was here to tell them otherwise.

“Experienced marksmen have achieved near 100% hit rates with the Lorenz rifled musket at 225 yards,” the Major explained. “Since the fastest French infantryman still needs about two minutes to cover this distance - and no soldier in the world moves as swiftly in battle as does a Frenchman,” he continued, “In theory each man armed with a Lorenz can kill four enemies before any bayonet charge could possibly strike home. In practice, of course, that is unlikely: but if even a reasonable fraction – say, 10-15% - of the 12,000 or so well-aimed bullets a regiment can fire in two minutes manage to strike home in the final leg of an incoming charge, most formations recieving fire of that kind will be so hard hit as to waver and break before they can manage press an attack by bayonet.”

“This is borne up by the results of those actions where the French attempted to overrun our jägers; in no case – none – did such a charge even close before being repelled,” the officer claimed. “Granted, it is unrealistic to expect all our soldiers to be able to shoot like a jäger, but if we can even begin to approach that level of accuracy, it will make a tremendous difference.”

“Second,” continued the Major, “There were several deficiencies in our first batch of Lorenz rifles. Many were shoddily made, resulting in serious differences with respect to windage. Such deficiencies reduce both the accuracy and striking power of the Lorenz.”

“In addition,” he said, “The bullet design – a compression-type ball - is less than ideal. Granted, in a well-machined rifle, it would produce superior results – but there is little margin for error when it comes to manufacturing a rifle that must use such ammunition. A more conventional bullet design – like the Minié ball – would be better tolerated among weapons machined to less exacting standards, which is probably all current gunsmiths in Austria can handle.”

“Finally,” the Major added, “When we designed the Lorenz, two different styles of the rifle were built – one for centre companies and one for flank companies. Both cost about the same, but the design intended for centre companies does not have enough of a twist in its rifling to be effective; two-thirds of our rifles were built to this specification. For the sake of effectiveness and uniformity, this specification should be abandoned and the rifles so built sold off as surplus.”

He pause for a second before continuing, glancing at the Emperor. When he saw the smile on Franz Josef’s face, he knew he had the go ahead for the final proposal.

“Third,” the Major said, “I believe that just as we should strive to bring our line units up to something approaching the accuracy and effectiveness of our jägers by improving the quality of their arms and their training, as well as stressing the need to break the enemy with fire instead of breaking him with the bayonet, we should improve our jägers as well.” There were more murmurs, this time of startlement; the man had spent his entire presentation praising Austria’s elite skirmishers and now he was going to bad-mouth them? they wondered. But the Major had an even greater surprise coming.

“To do this I propose that we furnish our jägers with a breech-loading rifle of some kind,” he said. “Even if the rate of fire with this new rifle is no better than that of the Lorenz, the ability to fire it while prone will make our skirmishers that much more effective. But in fact,” he continued, “Breech-loading rifles commonly produce a rate of fire 2-3 times greater than that of a muzzle-loading rifle; this gives us the ability to have our jägers range out ahead of our lines and begin fatally weakening oncoming enemy units well before they close with our main body.”

“If that is the case,” asked the Emperor, “Why would we not give all of our men breech-loading rifles?”

There was shocked silence, but it was a natural question. The Major answered it with aplomb.

“Breech-loading rifles generally fire a smaller bullet and enjoy a shorter range than muzzle loaders,” he replied. “And muzzle-loading rifles can kill at 2-3 times the range of most breech-loaders. There is also the matter of cost; replacing every muzzle-loading rifle in the army would be prohibitively expensive, especially after having replaced every smoothbore musket with a rifled one. I’m sure that this is one reason why the French have delayed their rifling program, and why even now they are following the Prussian lead in modifying their existing smoothbore weapons – a tactic that produces an inferior rifle – rather than buying all new weapons, as we and the British did. For the Prussians, this was a necessity given that they had very little money to begin with,” the Major remarked, “As well as the fact that they wanted to adopt the Dreyse rifle as soon as possible. For their part, the French probably want to skip ahead another generation beyond the Dreyse to gain further advantage.”

“Of course,” and now came the final bombshell, “There are any number of ways to take an existing rifled musket and convert it into a single-shot breech loader at some later date. The result is an inferior breech loader – although the weapon may not be inferior in comparison to its previous performance as a rifled musket; indeed, it might well be the better for the conversion. In fact, this is the course of action that I recommend we take with the Lorenz in a few years, once we have raised training and readiness standards for our army as a whole, along with equipping our light forces - foot and mounted - with breech-loading rifles.”

OOC: There were a number of single-shot breech-loading designs in use as on 1860: the Prussian Dreyse “needle rifle”, the Norwegian Kammerlader (literally, “chamber loader”), and the American Sharps (in both rifle and carbine form), just to name a few. Some of these weapons date back to 1844, so they would be by no means by experimental weapons.