I lied, posting this earlier.
If you were wondering, a Truppe is a Platoon of today with 52 soldiers. It is split up into two Feuerteams of 13. Two Truppe make up a Kompanie, which in groups of three is a Bataillon. Infanterie-Battalions are often grouped into 4 to make a Brigade. Although 5 Brigades are supposed to be an Armee, the Kriegsbüro in practice sends its orders directly to a Brigade or Bataillon.
And yes, it's basically Prussians v. Zulus at this point. However, the fic will not just be some Atlesians massacring a tribe for long.
You'll have to look up the musket positions on your own.
In the past weeks, 4. Truppe had marched several hundreds of miles and met 3. Truppe, reuniting 2. Kompanie once more. They were currently marching in line formation at a quick pace with their muskets supported. The soldiers were closing in on a Rak settlement. The Leutnant often spoke of how they would defeat the barbarous Raks effortlessly, but the Musketiere knew that even unorganized tribes could kill an army. After all, tunics do nothing to stop arrows, and line formations just make a large target.
After thirty seconds, the Kompanie began to see the tribesmen. The pale-skinned warriors had their bodies covered in fur, and their heads were obscured by thick hair. There were only spears in the Rak charge as the bowmen stayed behind. Meanwhile, the rankers had the latest Mantler muskets and the Kompanie even had a Gewehrteam with long-range rifles.
"KOMPANIE, FAST MARCH! FRONT RANK, BAYONET CHARGE! GEWEHRTEAM, FALL RIGHT AND HALT!"
Following the order, the company sped up. Markus and his fellow rankers adopted a charging position, and the row behind him kept their muskets in support position. The 13 riflemen stopped, faced right, and marched to the larger formation's right for twenty feet and stopped, turning toward the battlefield.
"RAK, RAK, RAK," Markus heard. This was the tribe's namesake: the spearmen's commanders kept yelling this right before the battle.
As the rankers moved closer and closer to the Raks, Markus began to hear gunshots. The Gewehrteam has begun firing. While this is a good thing, Markus was glad he was in the formation's left, so he could not be a victim of accidental friendly fire. Even a sharpshooter did not have perfect aim.
Markus's internal monologue was cut short as he realized they were only a few feet away from the barbarians. He quickly rammed his weapon's bayonet into a barbarian's chest as they were pulling their spear back to strike. Markus then pulled his weapon out of the spearman, causing them to fall over.
Markus had heard stories from 3. Truppe about how fierce the tribe was. They just would not die, continuing to fight with several stab wounds. As this is not what he had experienced, he figured that the men he was fighting were less trained due to the Raks' recent losses.
He and his rank kept doing this for several minutes. When a front ranker fell, another one from the rear rank took his place.
While an individual Rak was not as strong as 4. Truppe said, their stories still held true with the collective, as the barbarians did not retreat even after significant losses.
The Mantlers were clearly the victors of the battle. By the time it ended, they only lost 10 men, compared to the complete wipeout of the Rak village.
Markus was tired, but he knew the day was far from over. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, and any wasted minute would make the campaign take longer.
I know, very short. More chapters coming soon.
