章節 34: War Never Changes
Throughout the course of human history, humanity has continually adapted to the challenges presented by the untamed wilderness.
From the earliest days when humans gathered in small communities, to the rise and fall of mighty civilizations, the struggle for survival has remained an enduring theme.
In the face of adversity, humanity has consistently persevered, forging its path through the ages.
Throughout history, civilizations clashed in relentless wars, locked in a perpetual struggle for supremacy and the coveted spoils of land and sustenance.
As epochs unfurled, ushering in new eras, the driving forces behind these conflicts evolved in tandem.
What once revolved around the acquisition of food and territory gradually shifted, morphing into battles over fertile lands and precious raw resources.
Eventually, the struggle expanded, transcending mere resources to encompass the accumulation of wealth and prosperity.
While the theater of war remained a constant, the impetus propelling it forward underwent a transformative journey, forever adapting to the changing tides of human ambition.
What about the art of war itself? Does it remain static, or does it evolve? Are humans locked in mindless combat, or do they engage as conscious beings? History demonstrates that the dynamic nature of war compels the need to outwit adversaries.
From primal conflicts where only the last one standing prevails, to cooperative strategies yielding superior outcomes, to preemptively striking your foes before they strike you – the evolution of warfare reflects the constant endeavor to adapt and outmaneuver.
It continued to evolve, revealing that intricate weaponry, strategic tactics, and specialized units held greater significance in warfare than mere numerical strength or available resources.
Through the comprehensive utilization of available resources, the refinement of weaponry, and groundbreaking innovations on the battlefield, a genuine path to victory emerged—or at least, that was our steadfast belief.
Consider this perspective: in the past, Hannibal achieved victories against the Romans by employing hit-and-run tactics, overwhelming them with relentless barrages of troops, or strategically outflanking them through well-prepared ambushes.
Even earlier, the Macedonians under Alexander the Great secured their global dominance as the pioneering conquerors, employing their unique 'phalanx' formation—a concept originally used by Ancient Greek hoplites.
However, it was the Persians who showcased an array of battle strategies during an era when warfare was still in its infancy.
They employed a diverse range of tactics, including the use of war elephants, skilled horse archery, and the renowned 'Immortals'—arguably the earliest known elite unit—bred and trained solely for the art of war.
Throughout history, diverse and illustrious civilizations have each crafted their distinct stratagems and perspectives on the art of warfare.
As the passage of time unfurled, the brilliance of these profound tactics was met with an inevitable reckoning – a relentless cycle of adaptation and imitation, culminating in the evolution of more effective modes of warfare.
The Romans, exemplars of this dynamic, wove a tapestry of versatility within their legions, a testament to their keen comprehension of adversaries long before the clash of battle.
In this epoch, a renowned adage echoed ever more resoundingly, spoken by the esteemed Oriental war philosopher, Sun Tzu:
"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle."
An era defined by the prominence of well-prepared armies, where strategic acumen held greater significance in warfare than mere impulsive forays onto the battlefield.
It was an age when military endeavors were orchestrated with comprehension, surpassing the realm of self-assured ventures.
Yet, despite this cognizance, civilizations persisted in reiterating the errors of their predecessors, faltering in their grasp of the ceaseless metamorphosis intrinsic to conflict.
Even in the face of understanding, the essence of war remained unaltered.
Its essence was a grim cycle of destruction, a relentless harvest of lives, all in pursuit of material gains, while the inhabitants of the land bore the excruciating weight of suffering.
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[Plains of Aghikos]
As the tense standoff between the two armies persisted, the atmosphere grew heavy and solemn, seemingly poised for the impending clash that would determine the fate of the land.
An eerie stillness blanketed the scene, with silence reigning on both sides as they awaited the crucial moment, each side anticipating the other to initiate the opening move.
A considerable expanse of approximately 1100 yards separated the opposing forces, a significant distance that rendered the prospect of arrows traversing the battlefield and wreaking havoc upon the armies implausible.
However, the Ottomans held a strategic advantage by occupying the higher ground – their troops positioned atop a commanding hill that overlooked the vast plain. In contrast, John's combined forces, joined by the resolute Bulgarian rebels, were positioned on the expansive field below.
Perched upon a stool, Pasha Emir sat in the company of his esteemed janissary, who stood faithfully at his side. His gaze rested upon the unfolding standoff, marked by a disinterested expression.
The urgency of concluding the conflict weighed heavily on him, deeming this endeavor against what he perceived as a feeble army to be a fruitless pursuit. Time was of the essence, and he harbored no desire to squander it on what he considered a futile enterprise.
"Malik? Can you end this quickly?" the bored pasha said to his grand commander.
"Esteemed Pasha." The Turkish commander answered bowing, "Gazi, marş!" Thus the beginning of the battle started with the Pasha's army making the first move.
The Ottoman forces began their advance, led by the initial battlement consisting of infantry and bowmen, who were the first to heed the commands of their Turkish leader.
Witnessing this unfolding maneuver, John's gaze narrowed, and without hesitation, he issued his own decisive orders, his voice resounding, "Soldiers, prepare your bows!"
In a swift motion, the infantry units directly under John's command seamlessly transitioned from their melee weapons to ranged ones, while the frontliners remained resolute in holding their shields at the ready.
The Bulgarians, observing this unexpected transformation, found themselves puzzled. 'Bows? At this distance?'
With a considerable span of approximately 900 yards still stretching between them and the advancing Ottoman forces, the abrupt switch to bows left them questioning the co-emperor's motives. What was John's underlying strategy for introducing bows into the equation at this particular juncture?
As the distances dwindled – 800, 700, 600 yards – John instructed his troops to elevate their aims toward the sky, anticipation mounting as they awaited his forthcoming commands.
500, 400, 300 yards stretched before them. As the formidable Ottoman force closed in, inching past the 200-yard milestone, a resounding command tore through the tension-filled atmosphere, piercing the stillness like a blade.
"Loose!" John's voice carried a weight of authority as thousands of arrows were unleashed into the heavens, hurtling forth with unrelenting velocity toward the oncoming Ottoman ranks.
A deluge of arrows painted the sky, blotting out the sun as the advancing Ottoman soldiers watched in a mixture of horror and astonishment.
The lethal rain of shafts descended upon them in a relentless cascade, a sight that stirred bewilderment and disbelief in equal measure.
The very air seemed to shimmer with the deadly dance of projectiles. In the face of this onslaught, the Ottomans were left to ponder in awe, their faces contorted with a blend of shock and curiosity. "What manner of bows and arrows are these?"
In the midst of chaos, the infantry units reacted swiftly, raising their shields in a frantic attempt to ward off the incoming hail of arrows.
Yet, despite their valiant efforts, a somber count of casualties grew steadily as bodies fell victim to the unrelenting and unforeseen arrow onslaught.
One after another, soldiers crumpled to the ground, a harrowing testament to the ceaseless torrent of projectiles.
Meanwhile, their own archers grappled with a sense of helplessness, their retaliatory efforts thwarted by the frustrating reality that the enemy remained just beyond the effective range of their bows and arrows.
The commanders stationed at each battlement of the advancing Ottoman troops struggled to suppress the rising panic among their men.
Shouting a flurry of orders, they desperately attempted to maintain formation, all the while reprimanding their own archers who found themselves powerless against the relentless barrage of arrows from the Roman forces, each volley striking mere seconds apart.
As the advance slowed, the Romans consistently launched volleys of skirmishing arrows, steadily reducing the numbers of the oncoming enemy force, all while maintaining their effective firing range.
However, even in the face of this successful onslaught, John found himself unable to ease his vigilance. His gaze shifted toward his two trusted commanders positioned on the flanks, each leading their Kataphraktoi units.
Sensing the weight of their co-emperor's scrutiny, Demetrius on the right and Giorgios on the left swiftly issued orders for their units to initiate a charge.
The Ottoman forces, now caught in a vulnerable position and unable to evade the barrage of arrows, became the target of the swift and decisive assault launched by John's commanders.
John swiftly issued the order for his men to cease their ranged assault, directing them to switch back to their melee weapons in readiness for an impending charge.
A collective sigh of relief swept through the Ottoman ranks as the torrent of arrows abated, granting them a momentary respite.
Yet, their relief was short-lived, for a new wave of terror crashed upon them. In a heartbeat, a thunderous cavalry charge thundered forth, an unstoppable juggernaut hurtling toward them at full tilt.
Still gasping for breath from the ceaseless arrow onslaught, the Ottoman forces found themselves trapped, unable to mount a swift defense as the specter of doom loomed ever closer, the grip of Hades awaiting them with grim certainty.
Demetrius, at the helm of 500 Cataphracts, executed a swift and synchronized assault on the Ottoman's frontline battlement to the right.
Simultaneously, Giorgios led his contingent of 500 Cataphracts to strike the Ottoman's backline battlement on the left with equal precision.
This strategic maneuver shattered the once-disciplined formations maintained by the Ottoman's initial line of advancing units.
The officers overseeing their forces found themselves overwhelmed, struggling to maintain effective control as their troops faced devastation and chaos.
Pasha Emir, positioned at the far opposite side of the battlefield, witnessed the unfolding of this cataclysmic clash and was left utterly astounded by the unforeseen turn of events.
At the outset, he had found amusement in the Romans' release of arrows into the sky, underestimating their potential to reach his troops from such a distant range.
Yet, his certainty was shattered when the arrows finally descended, leaving him in a state of shock, confusion, and profound horror.
Unintentionally, he rose from his seat, captivated by the unfolding spectacle that defied his expectations. His gaze was fixed in disbelief as he struggled to process the surreal scene before him. "This..." His eyes widened, reflecting his overwhelming bewilderment.
In the ensuing moments, his attention was seized by the next phase of the battle. The sudden and forceful entrance of the Roman heavy cavalry into the fray left Emir dumbfounded.
The cavalry swept through the battlefield, wreaking havoc and devastation upon his troops with an unparalleled efficiency, encountering little to no resistance whatsoever.
Amidst the chaotic theater of battle, the Roman cataphracts surged through the heart of the disarrayed Ottoman forces, sowing devastation in their wake.
On this turbulent canvas, John orchestrated a calculated move, leading his disciplined troops forward in measured steps. As they neared the tumultuous clash, a sense of impending revelation lingered in the air.
Demetrius and Giorgios, perceptive to the unfolding stratagem, recognized the imminent surge of the next surprise.
Swiftly assessing the situation, they issued orders for their men to disengage from the tumult, skillfully withdrawing and repositioning themselves at their original posts.
This strategic maneuver proved advantageous, sparing their respective units from significant casualties.
The concerted assault, launched with precision, left their adversaries dispirited and disorganized. The enemy's aspirations to regroup and mount a counteroffensive against the cavalry units were quashed, caught in the tumultuous currents of relentless assaults.
Recognizing the approaching surge of infantry, which marked a reprieve from the relentless harassment inflicted by the mounted warriors, the Ottomans swiftly regrouped to meet the impending threat head-on.
With the renewed space afforded to their archers, they seized the opportunity to unleash their volleys. Yet, the toll of the preceding cavalry charge had taken its toll, leaving their skirmishing efforts ineffective in halting the determined advance of John's Imperial Marine Corps.
Unfazed by the futile resistance put up by the Ottoman soldiers before him,
"Prepare the grenades!" John's directive reverberated across the battlefield, spurring his men into action as they readied their most formidable weaponry.
"At my command, unleash!" John's authoritative voice resounded, and in unison, unfamiliar objects descended upon the Ottoman ranks.
Frantically, they raised their shields once more to defend against these seemingly innocuous projectiles.
However, their lack of knowledge about the weapon that had vanquished their predecessors left them vulnerable and bewildered.
The grenades detonated in succession, setting off a chain reaction that transformed the battlefield into a maelstrom of thunderous explosions.
The Ottomans, caught in the devastating blast, suffered heavy casualties and chaos ensued. Many of them scrambled to their feet, disoriented and wounded, before hastily retreating from the battlefield.
This unforeseen turn of events shattered their morale, replacing courage with panic, and fear spread like wildfire. As the grenades erupted, tongues of fire enveloped the soldiers, reducing them to mere ashes.
The Ottoman troops remaining in the camp watched in horror as their comrades were launched into the air, consumed by flames, and their ranks decimated within seconds.
Fear gripped them, their wide eyes betraying their terror and their legs threatening to give way beneath them.
Witnessing the carnage before them, the once-formidable Ottoman forces trembled, their resolve crumbling in the face of this unprecedented and overwhelming onslaught.
Witnessing the emergence of this new weapon, the Pasha's own eyes bore witness to a chilling realization. "What manner of adversaries have we confined all these years?" he pondered in awe.
The thunderous explosions and the swift devastation that followed, a mere heartbeat after its detonation, left no doubt. This enigmatic contraption, born from the secrets of the infamous Greek fire, was a force of unprecedented destruction.
Such cataclysmic power, an unparalleled spectacle, had never graced the annals of human history. And as he stood there, a witness to its might, he knew that he was neither the first nor the last to bear witness to its awe-inspiring might.
Malik, his resolve shaken by the horrifying spectacle of battle before him, gazed into his pasha's eyes, his voice trembling and perspiration beading on his temples.
"Respected Pasha... what course shall we take..." His words quivered, his once-stalwart will now shattered.
Although he had not personally engaged in the fight, the annihilation of half their troops within mere hours of their assault had left an indelible mark.
And the recent horrors he had witnessed only moments ago had obliterated whatever confidence still lingered within him.
"Order the retreat! Fall back to the city!" The pasha's command rang out without a moment's hesitation, his voice tinged with fear.
The blaring of horns swiftly echoed, marking their frantic withdrawal from the battlefield, a sudden departure after just a single battle, a lone encounter that had altered their course.
Upon witnessing the unexpected manner in which the Ottoman forces withdrew after a single engagement, a sense of relief washed over John and his men. He let out a sigh, momentarily easing the tension that had gripped them.
The sound of jubilant cheers erupted from his ranks, a cacophony of celebration that reverberated through the air.
While John hadn't anticipated the battle to unfold with such apparent ease, he couldn't help but acknowledge that the Ottoman Pasha's prior knowledge of their recent defeat had likely influenced their strategic choices.
Yet, what baffled him even more was the glaring oversight – the Ottoman forces seemed entirely unaware of a weapon that should have been a critical part of their arsenal.
The realization struck him deeply. He pondered the implications of such complacency, a trait he had never associated with the formidable Ottomans he had dreaded and heard tales of from his father. This victory, he mused, was a stroke of luck.
Had the Ottomans been better prepared, would they have proven to be a more formidable opponent on the battlefield? The question lingered, casting a shadow of uncertainty over his triumph.
On the Bulgarian side, a profound sense of bewilderment swept over them, leaving them struggling to process the astonishing spectacle they had just witnessed.
Despite not yet engaging in the battle themselves, the Ottoman forces had inexplicably recoiled, their resolve seemingly shattered. The sheer improbability of this turn of events left the Bulgarians in a state of disbelief.
Dmitriv, Nikolai, and Ivan, along with their respective troops who had been primed for battle just moments ago, found themselves enveloped in a haze of astonishment.
Confusion mingled with surprise, as their expectations of a fierce struggle clashed with the reality of the Ottomans' sudden retreat. The abruptness of the enemy's withdrawal was simply beyond comprehension.
As the main Bulgarian commander, Dmitriv could only offer a wry smile, a mix of amusement and awe dancing in his eyes. His gaze shifted toward John's victorious men, a renewed sense of respect and admiration taking root within him as he watched them celebrate their triumph.
Just as swiftly as it began, the Battle of Constantia reached an unexpected and abrupt conclusion, just as it was poised to commence.
It all commenced with a fundamental maneuver by the Ottoman forces, which soon encountered disruption from John's astonishingly precise long-range arrows.
This was followed by a meticulously orchestrated cavalry charge, culminating in John and his men's decisive entry into the fray.
Astonishingly, they employed the same projectiles that had proven effective against the Ottomans just five days prior.
In essence, this battle unfolded over a mere three distinct commands issued by John's side, while the Ottoman forces found themselves rendered powerless in the face of these strategic maneuvers.
Despite their renowned expertise in warfare and fearsome reputation as formidable adversaries of Christendom, they were left unable to mount an effective response.
This raises questions about the valor and triumph of their historical feats, such as their victory over the crusaders at the Battle of Nikopolis.
The very essence of their conquest seemed tarnished, as if their success had been achieved not through the prowess of their soldiers, but through cunning tactics they deployed.
There was a stark absence of any semblance of the legendary Ottoman tales unfolding on this battlefield – none whatsoever.
Could it be that those tales were mere falsehoods? That notion seemed implausible. The enigmatic variable here was none other than John VIII Palaiologos, the co-emperor of the once-declining Byzantine Empire.
It was this co-emperor, an emblem of an empire in decline, who had orchestrated a transformation of this entire conflict.
He had triumphed over their most detested adversary, introducing a novel style of warfare that left their foes utterly disoriented and despondent. One couldn't help but ponder: Was divine fairness at play in this twist of fate?
For epochs, it appeared as though divine providence had turned its back on them, allowing their suffering to persist. And yet, in an unexpected turn, their solace arrived in the form of John, a gift bestowed upon them to alleviate their anguish.
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