The Battle of Pferdetote

To Her Most Excellent Majesty, Maria Theresa, from her humble servant, General von Lemmingsdorf of plucky little Marlenedietrichstein, we bring news of battle.

After several months of tracking the cavalry force of the hated Großebärwald army, we finally caught up with them, despite their best attempts at evasion. Several times in recent weeks we sought to force them to face us in battle, but each time they scurried away on their horses, too cowardly to face us. Finally, however, on the Plains of Pferdetote, we encountered them and this time they were too weary to run from us.

We massed our forces in three ranks and marched to the enemy flank, where his most inferior (and that's saying something) troops were gathered. His supposedly elite and guard units were on the other side of a small village whose name we never bothered to find out - Berlin, I think someone said it was - and they took their time getting to us, which was no surprise since they obviously had no stomach for taking on our fine men.

The finest Guard Cavalry in all of Großebärwald!

Our forces then broke into two distinct groups, one taking up a position to face down the oncoming cavalry, the other rolling up the flank of the worst men that the  Großebärwald had to offer, little but old men and children on flea-bitten nags.

Our Brave Lads see off the Großebärwald cavalry!

Of course, when the supposedly "guard" cavalry launched their attack on us, we realised that they too were little more than old men and children (and possibly a few women - they certainly couldn't grow the fine moustaches that our cavalry possess) on flea-bitten nags. Our brave men soon saw them off, the Reverend Whitehouse rallying the men when they fell before he decided to retire to his tent to work on his next sermon.

The cavalry of Großebärwald in full retreat, fighting each other in their haste to escape!

In but an hour and a half, the enemy cavalry were so demoralised and defeated that their commander fell to his knees in supplication and begged me to allow his men to retreat back to their pitiful country. As a magnanimous gentleman, I could hardly refuse, especially since we had more dead horseflesh than we could possibly eat from our battlefield engagement. Our finest cooks are at work as we speak, making sausages. The whole of Marlenedietrichstein will feast on Pferdewurst for months!

Von Wattsenburg's own horse after the battle!