Morning confirmed the reports the scouts had brought in the early morning hours. Rather than advance and offer their flank for an attack, or turn east and deploy with both flanks on air, the Ottomans had moved back into the narrow little pass and deployed for battle. The Imperial army was not molested as it wound down onto the plain, save for the usual small swarms of sipahis. Morning gave way to noon and still the army rolled through its ponderous deployment, marching more or less west, then facing right and wheeling the former rear, now right wing, forward into line.
Deployments of the armies for the Battle of Soma Pass
Bogdan read the Turk dispositions as best he could; the janissaries were clearly deployed across the lowest part of the pass, slightly behind and to one side of the artillery. Lighter infantry held the hills on the sides of the pass with sipahis out in front and a small block of heavier cavalry situated on a rise to the rear. He thought the Turks intended for the Empire to attack the western end of the pass, exposing their flank to the artillery as they came up. Disorganized, the legions would then prove easy prey for a the Turk heavy cavalry.
Hitchcock proposed a defensive stance. “We have maneuvered to cover Smyrna city; let us hold the Turks until General Aron can come up.”
“I wish we could,” was Bogdan’s surprising answer. “They have enough force to defend that narrow pass; we don’t have enough to hold the wide end of the funnel. Our flanks are exposed, and flank attacks are what sipahis do best. We have to go in or move back toward Smyrna, and the fact that the Turks have fallen back on the defensive makes me sure we should attack.” Reluctantly, Hitch agreed. If an attack had to be made, Bogdan’s plan was probably the best: to drive the irregular infantry off the eastern slope on the Imperial right, flanking the Turkish artillery and janissaries while a second infantry legion came up the middle and the third held the left flank. Once the slope was achieved, the massed heavy cavalry of the two mounted legions would be launched down the valley like a bowling ball to blow open a hole and irretrievably wreck the Ottoman left wing.
Had there been a more secure position, or better roads, Hitchcock would have preferred to pin the Turks in place while marching a detachment over the mountains to turn a flank. Still, the Grand Vizier (his personal emblems confirmed his presence) sat obligingly while the Imperial army deployed and marched forward the last few hundred yards to battle, and that quiescence was encouraging. Equally heartening was the troops steadiness in maneuver; units pacing off the distance with pikes sloped and slow match smouldering.
Just about half-past noon, the Ottoman artillery began to thunder, huge stone balls wobbling through the air to plow furrows into the dusty dirt. This was bowling for real, and while the casualties were few due to slow rate of fire, the mangled state of the victims was appalling. Soon after the Imperial artillery opened an effective fire, trading about two salvos for one with their lighter pieces. As the Imperial infantry drew forward, the Turkish light infantry loosed their few firearms and the fight became general.
The 5th, an infantry legion, settled into a hammering fire in return, taking losses from artillery but driving the Turk light infantry back into deeper cover. Unable to clearly see the situation because of the dense clouds of gunpowder smoke, the legate ordered a charge, but the legion was driven back. As the 3rd came up the middle in support, it too was enveloped in thick grey-brown fog and ground to a halt under fire from the janissaries and the skirmishing light infantry.
Repeated assaults finally brought the 5th up the slope, where they reformed only to see the Turkish light infantry digging in on the next of a series of ridges. One battalion was taking a fearful toll on the Turkish gunners, who were held to their work under the lashes of their officers. Grimly, the Turk artillery plowed furrows in the battalions of the 5th and 3rd; grimly, the legions stood their ground and returned a withering fire.
Advancing yet again, the 3rd crashed into the Turkish guns, chained together to prevent their being turned. The 5th drove the last of the light infantry down in flight, only to be taken in flank by a janissary orta.
As the battle hung in the balance, Bogdan launched the two battalions of heavy cavalry down the valley, directly into the teeth of the Turk position. A scattered artillery volley scarcely slowed them, but the massed fire of the remaining janissaries broke the charge and the right side of the battlefield descended into chaos.
At length, the 5th emerged from the smoke, and the 3rd had no choice but to withdraw or be flanked. Dusk saw the armies back in their starting positions, weaker by a quarter of their strength in dead and wounded, but with no decision achieved.
“We cannot remain here,” Hitchcock said. “You said so this morning, and if it was true then it is all the more true now that we are depleted.”
“The enemy is weakened,” Bogdan argued. “And short on shot and powder, as are we, but farther from his stores than we. The 6th is still strong, and the cavalry.”
“You placed the 6th on the left because it was understrength,” Hitchcock pointed out. “General, we fought and we achieved a draw, but we needed a victory. We
must withdraw on Smyrna, and if we must fight another battle, let it be on Imperial soil, on ground of our own choosing.”
“My Lord General,” the Prince said, and every head turned. He had been quiet in the aftermath of the battle, shocked no doubt by the noise and smoke and chaos, and had scarcely spoken since the meeting began. “My Lord General, did the army fight well?”
“Very well, Your Highness! The army did all that men could do. I am completely satisfied!”
“And the new drill? Are you satisfied with the performance of the army in that respect as well?”
Bogdan cut his eyes to Hitchcock, then squared his shoulders. “Yes, Highness. I would have liked a few more pikes… and a few more gunners… The truth is, Your Highness, even another cohort on the right might have turned the battle in our favor. It was not any failure of drill, or want of courage, but rather too few men at the decisive point. I confess I would not have believed the janissaries could deliver such a weight of fire. Had we come on in the old style with crossbows and a few guns, we might have been beaten, badly beaten.”
“Do you propose to renew the battle?”
Bogdan wavered; his warrior heart conflicted with the calculating mind of a general. “I am willing to make the attempt, Your Highness, but I cannot promise victory.”
“Then, My Lords and Lady, I submit to you that if we can accomplish nothing further here we must go to a place where we can win a victory.”
“Yes, Your Highness. It saddens me greatly, but… yes, Your Highness. First Centurion! Pass the word. Load the wounded on the empty wagons, discard all non-essentials, burn what we leave. Move the scouts out on the Smyrna road and get the artillery and infantry moving first. The cavalry will hold as rear-guard.”
Hitchcock waited while the officers filed from the tent, then approached the Prince. “That was bravely and rightly done, Your Highness. Most men would not have seen the necessity, or having seen it, been unable to make such a difficult decision.”
“Do you say so, General? In truth it seems to me I only told poor Bogdan what he needed to hear but could not say himself.”
“That is a rare gift, Highness, even were you twice your age.”
“I wish I believed I would live so long, Heinrich.”
“The army will not fail you, Highness.”
“Ah. The army. Do you know, Heinrich, I was rather thinking of my Imperial father. When he finds out I’ve lost a battle, wrecked an army and opened a province to the Turks, I fear he never will forgive me. In truth I am a prodigy of failure.”
“The measure of a man, Highness, is not in whether he falls but in whether he gets up again. Your advisors may be to blame – I do not exempt myself – but you are blameless here. While you are apportioning responsibility you might save a slice for those Turkish galleys, and another for the Grand Vizier.”
“I am responsible, Heinrich, and I lack the wisdom to set things aright. What must I do, now?”
That’s just true enough to make it impossible for me to argue, Hitchcock thought. He is responsible; that’s what royalty are
for, and being unfair doesn’t make it untrue. What do I say? He is too old to coddle and too young for a good drunken binge.
“You must bear up, Highness, regardless of what you feel. This is the courage required of commanders. You must eat and perhaps nap while we ready for the march, and then you must ride along the army and show yourself. You must find it in yourself to be the Prince these men need.”
“And if I cannot?”
“If you could not, Highness, I would have packed you off to Smyrna city with your bodyguard hours ago.”
That brought a snort and a twist of half-smile. “Thank you for sparing me that.”
“And now, Your Highness, you need food, and rest if you can. We have a hard ride ahead.”
It has been out for more than one week and I had to pay for support... Bah, I'm back now. OTOH, I'm so ignorant of military matters that a single post of comment for all those update might be better anyway 
