We return to Grossenfartz as the Vulgarian attack is taking shape. Above we see Anglophobian gunners preparing to unleash a hail of matchsticks at the enemy.
The brewery - and a tanker full of it's product ready to roll.
There did seem to be rather a lot of Vulgarians.
Some Vulgarians were due to arrive by train - a whole infantry battalion...
...and (just visible at the foot of the photo), a gun battery.
Some nasty Vulgarian lancers emerged from behind the Anglophobian lines and soon dealt with the crew of the 4.7!
HMAT Thomas soon has the lancers in it's sights.
Anglophobian reserves were soon on the move.
The lead wagon of the Vulgarian train soon took a hit from a light gun but it's
unimaginative passengers continued their advance.
As expected, the Vulgarians attacked from the south and were met with a withering fire and some ineffectual artillery rounds.
HMAT Thomas and the Provisional Motor Patrol arrived in a timely manner and deployed to the rear of the brigade.
Alas, a squadron of Vulgarian lances, no doubt on a scouting sortie had managed to outflank the brigade dispositions and, following the smoke and dust from the train and PMP appeared to the rear of the fieldworks, charging headlong into the unprotected heavy artillery position, the brave gunners of which were cut down in the cowardly manner so beloved of the vulgar Vulgarians.
To add to the surging tide of stunted, and deformed Vulgarian conscripts, a train was spotted steaming full ahead for the Anglophobian lines and the brewery beyond. Well placed rounds from the light artillery destroyed a wagon and scattered the occupants from within, a number of whom were hit by the train as sped past to it's ultimate destination.
The Vulgarian field artillery caused light casualties to the left flank of the Anglophobian lines, and in return the stout Tars of the brigade sent the Kaiser a bill for funeral expense in the form of several deadly accurate rounds of rifle fire finding their mark.
The initial luck of the marauding Vulgarian lancers was cut short, by the steadfast men of the PMP who held and then dispersed them in bloody hand to hand combat.
Once again blistering and well place artillery fire from the guns of the Anglophobians deprived many Vulgarian mother from welcoming her son home to her sausage-fed bosom.