General Nils Magnus Brahe was dead. Choked on a chicken bone, the fat fool. The Swedish Offensive had not yet begun, and the soldiers assembled out side of Imarta were unsure of what to do. The Chain of command was broken, and the Lieutenant Generals of the army were off with their own parts of the offensive, already in position to begin the advance. The main army was left like a headless chicken. Ironic, given what the General choked on.
Hans Henric had been just a lowly Captain during the last tour of duty, but with his earning of the
Riksdag Medal of Honor, Henric was promoted for his valor and command to Major General. He continued to campaign, with his wounds, refusing to be discharged for medical rest, and led the men under his command proving his valor over and over again, as well as his skill at leading men in several key defensive battles of the Eastern War.
He was an interesting man, Hans Henric. He was average looking. Not particularly loud or commanding by his precense. But his eyes, his eyes. His eyes were deep blue, and when a soldier looked into them, he followed the orders of Hans without question. He was intelligent, for an immigrant, and he understood the concepts of war. Not to mention he had fought and led men through out the entirity of the war. Hans Henric was willing, not to mention able, to command the main division, since he was ranking officer with the death of Brahe in the land offensive to crush the Muscovites once and for all.
Once he made sense of these maps that is. He was pouring over the maps, looking at the troop position, elavation, terrain, and the lines of planned troop paths.
"Looks like standard tactics, sir. Just like you've led us in every single engagement."
An unnamed aide said to him, looking over the maps with him. Hans never bothered to learn the mans name, the man having been assigned to him just recently. Not that it mattered, with the monumentous event that was about to occur.
"Yes, but this plan of advance requires prefect coordination, coordination that we cannot send unless you are with holding infromation from me, and you can send messages with your mind!" Hans all but yelled.
"Well sir, I don't see any way that we could do this without some set backs. We can't all attack in coordination without constant communication. The Muscovites are pretty back water, which makes it hard."
"Wait," said Hans, a light coming to his eyes, "I have an idea. Here let me write this instructions, and then we can send this new infromation to the other groups. This way we can stay in contact even with the Muscovites backwardness."
"Brillant sir! You will make a good General!"
"Yes, yes. Send this, and I will adress the troops. Now go!"