The Ghost Army

There has been a lack of updates in the last month or so, and not due to lack of personal interest with writing this blog. I've simply not been reading a lot of non-fiction lately. I've turned to the likes of Orwell and Dostoyevsky, mostly for the purposes of being able to use "Orwellian" in a sentence more effectively and so I can smugly tell people "oh, I was just thumbing through some Dostoyevsky", which, I'm fairly sure, is what the vast majority of people read those books for. Regardless, I had to publish something for the month of October and what better than something with a spooky name? 

The fearsome tanks of the American armed forces. Some
assembly required. 

I'll set the tone for what the Ghost Army is all about. It's March, 1945 and Hitler's Germany is on the ropes. Pretty well everyone knows the war is to be over soon, but the Nazis are determined to give it one last go and put up a final stand. The Germans were pushed back to the Rhine river, the last large barrier before getting right at the heart of Germany. The goal of the Allied Powers was to break through the German defence with as few casualties as possible. Unfortunately, tanks and artillery tend to make that a rather difficult affair. 

Knowing they're to have a tough time, the Americans draw up a plan to deceive them as best they can. At first, it's one that sounds more than a little ridiculous - they would create an entire army of decoys to draw fire from the Germans while their actual forces press elsewhere, allowing them to cross the Rhine relatively unharmed. But how can they pull that off? It has to be at least somewhat more complicated yelling or, if it comes down to it, mooning. 

The solution was to create the 603rd Camouflage Engineers, a group of just over a thousand artists. Their goal was to create distractions and deceive the enemy into thinking that forces were there when there actually weren't - a simple goal but an exceedingly complex problem. Previously they were working at on the homefront, disguising such massive projects as airbases to make it look like farmland - which really is as impressive as it sounds. Now they would be thrown into the fray, being told that their job was to get as many Germans shooting at them as possible. Inexplicably, they were fine with this. 

The speakers used to send out the false sounds of war. Now
they're used for Katy Perry concerts. 

They decided the best way to pull this off was to create the deception based on three main ideas: create dummy tanks and artillery to draw the fire; send loud sounds of bridges being built and tanks rolling across to the enemy; and lastly to fake radio announcements, as one of the main ways the Germans found their foe was by intercepting radio reports. Unfortunately, the idea was unprecedented - no one has ever tried to create a whole army full of mimics before. Therefore they had to test a lot of the stuff out until things finally came together. After attempting to use wood, canvas, metal and any sort of materials they could find, they eventually went with inflatables. Yes, large inflatable tanks - that's what would be storming the battlefield. There are a number of hilarious images and videos of tanks being lifted up and bouncing around, or simply rolled over on their side. The best part of it is that they were actually rather effective - from the sky, recon planes would look down below, see the tanks, and think, well, they're... they're tanks. It would be tough to report back and say "yeah, I saw some tanks, but they might have been plastic."

A picture of one of the planes they planted. I really wish they
flew it via remote control to keep with a "Toys 'R' Us" theme. 

Next up was setting up a speaker system. They spent three weeks recording and mixing sounds - much like DJs, but with more talent - and began to create the sounds of an army rolling out to war. Men hammering away on bridges, tanks treading across the open terrain, right down to some guys swearing at each other. It was all there. It would then be pumped out of 500 pound speakers that had the range of fifty miles, which is quite a feat considering that all of this technology was very, very new. This was in addition to bringing in one hundred radio operators to fool the enemy into thinking they were announcing their positions in the land of the inflatables. They would radio in their locations hoping the Germans would pick up on it and start bombing the warfare equivalent of a child's kiddie pool.

There were also a few smaller issues to be taken care of along the way. Tank tracks would be left across the battlefield, except they were actually made by bulldozers; artillery shells were simply left around to make it seem as if they were being used or about to be; they even considered the idea of German spies in the surrounding small towns, so the men of the Ghost Army went to these places regularly talking about their units that weren't actually real, hoping that someone would hear the news and report it back. They even went as far as to get fake shoulder patches made up to make it seem that they really were part of one cohesive unit.

Before they went to the Rhine, they ran a number of trial runs to test if this could actually work. One notable example was the path between a recently liberated Paris and the German heavily fortified city of Metz, which was at that point currently being besieged from the south. They were worried a German contingent could move from the northern route and surround the troops, quickly spelling disaster for the attacking force, so the Ghost Army was called in to take the place and pretend they were another large force coming in to support them. Of course, they held little to no defensive power, but it was all irrelevant. The Germans didn't attack as they couldn't risk leaving their defensive positions to hit the enemy that didn't really exist. The plan worked perfectly. 

After a number of other trials, all of which successful and causing a shockingly few number of casualties considering the risk associated with the task, they launched Operation Viersen, the largest diversion yet. It would take 1,100 men, with a few real infantry to enhance the illusion. They set up fake repair depots, placed their shockingly effective fake tanks and artillery, as well as dummy planes with landing strips. The later was so effective that an Allied plane - a real one - actually landed on one and was promptly ushered away. The result was an American army crossing into a disorganized and tiny resistance, the plan clearly having properly deceived the Nazis. It was estimated they saved up to 15,000-30,000 lives.

So well done, Ghost Army. I may have been a touch disappointed you weren't literal ghosts created through some sort of secret CIA paranormal unit, but... it's a pretty darn great story.

_______________________________

The info and pictures used for this blog were taken from the PBS documentary The Ghost Army. So, this blog was made possible by readers like you!

The Battle of Marathon: Part 4 - The Finale

I left you with Persia poised to attack Greece, forcing a number of Greek cities to surrender out of the sheer threat of violence. As you remember from 300 (man, I can't stop linking it back to that movie even though it's not even the same battle) the Persians came in and demanded earth and water - in which Leonidas heroically power-kicks him into a seemingly endless pit of death while yelling "THIS - IS - SPARTA!", a line that has now been relentlessly parodied. That is how the Persians went about it. They would send an emissary (probably not Peter Mensah in the real life version) and he would demand earth and water, a symbolic gesture of surrender. While many turned it over and submitted, Sparta and Athens refused, bringing them to war.

The Persian infantry, possibly the
famed Immortals. With that name they
best make sure they're really good.

So how would Athens and Sparta stand a chance against the Persian horde, especially with a number of Greek cities at least kind of on the side of Persia? Their first step was to make the new-found allies of the Persians fear the Greeks more than their new overlords. They went very different than it is now; food cannot be airdropped, proper sanitation is a dream, disease can very well kill more of your army than the enemy ever will.
about trouncing the traitors, preventing the Persians from having cities to land in and host their massive armies while they prepared for the onslaught. Keep in mind that war back in the day was

Before I get to Persia landing on Greece, I would like to establish just how much of a superpower they were. Their total landmass stretched over 7.5 million square miles with 40 million people in their civilization. Athens and the surrounding area was was less than 4,000 and only 150,000 citizens lived within. Now, it's important to note that the larger a civilization gets it's reasonable to assume that they won't be able to control everything as well as a smaller one. Not to mention Athens is fighting on their home turf, so they'll be able to bring in more of their soldiers than the opposition. They also wouldn't be able to send the entirety of their military overseas, especially at once. The author of the book I'm getting this from (see the bottom of the page) makes an educated guess that there were 14,000 Athenian hoplites, 9,000 of those showing up at Marathon with the possibility of slaves added in as well. As for the Persians, they likely had 35,000 infantry and archers with the addition of 1,000 cavalry with the addition of all of the sailors that would accompany the boat (which is more than you'd think - about 50,000). So, in a nutshell: Persia is massive, but cannot bring the entirety of their force to the doorstep of Athens. Athens is significantly smaller, but can bring a much higher percentage of their force. Nevertheless, Persia still has the far superior numbers.

A modern depiction of a hoplite. If I were a horse, I
wouldn't want to go near that either.

So who had the advantage? There are a number of factors to throw in here, and if I were a betting man at the time I'd stay the heck out of it entirely. The Greek defense was a strong, veteran force, the victors of a great number of battles in recent history, allowing their generals to become well-versed in tactics. They were well prepared to git-er-done. In addition to this, the Greek's armour and weapons were vastly superior. They had bronze breastplates, much better suited to keeping them alive than the scale and leather (and sometimes even wooden helmets, apparently) that they would be up against. A persian shield, typically made of wood, could perhaps stop an arrow but it sure as heck was not able to stop a hoplite spear. Now you could argue the cavalry would make a huge difference and tip the tides in favour of the Athenians, but here's the thing - horses don't like running into large numbers of pointed sticks. A phalanx formation, in which all the hoplites essentially go shoulder to shoulder and form a nearly impenetrable wall, prevent the horses from ever wanting to go full throttle in there and scatter the ranks. The Persian fighting style needed the cavalry to displace the enemy infantry, allowing the archers to pick them off afterwards - but against a solid, well-trained force that holds formation, they were going to have to go toe to toe.

While all this looks overwhelmingly in favour of the Greeks now, there are a few things to note; Athens did not bring any archers nor cavalry. They were strictly an infantry force. How would they survive the first initial volleys of arrows that the Persians typically use to slow up a force to allow the cavalry to move through? Second, Sparta (who was vehemently religious) was having a festival and refused to meet them at Marathon during that time. It's like they asked for help during Christmas, but they assured them they'd show up after boxing day. In addition to all this, Persia was not an army to be trifled with. In 300, they were essentially fodder trained in death screams and slow motion falling, but in reality these were battle-hardened soldiers that have been rolling through pretty well everything in their past for the greater part of the past century. They were going to put up a fight.

So where we stand: Persia lands with a huge force, Athens is at their gates ready to meet them soon but not yet leaving their city. Here's how the battle goes.

A... plate? depicting a Persian and Greek fighting.
Dinner must have been a violent event.

Persia was actually in some logistics trouble; running short on food and having far too small of places to crap (this is actually a much larger issue than you'd think, going back to the whole disease thing I mentioned earlier) and they were planning on temporarily retreating back to their boats. They started loading stuff up, most notably the cavalry. Imagine trying to pack 1,000 horses in and out of boats - it's a brutal task, and one that would take a very long amount of time. The Athenians knew they had to attack then, before the cavalry could be set up, and damage their force enough that they would no longer wish to return or at least be so damaged when they did they'd have a better chance. So they moved out of their city and got in battle formations. The Persians were at this point not too worried about this; they did this fairly often, almost as a way of keeping the enemy on their toes. But this time something was a little different; the Athenians started to sing.

Now this wasn't some campfire singing stuff, this was battle hymn, terrify the enemy and bolster your forces kind of singing. That's when they started walking. The Persians were not horribly ill-prepared, the archers having been in place but the cavalry mostly absent. The Athenians crept closer, and as they moved they broke out into a light jogging pace. This is the time the Persian archers would typically shine; they'd level the forces as they approached, leaving room for the rest of the army to take care of the rest. But that's when the Athenians went into full battle mode and decided it was best to run, full sprint, right at the enemy. Having never seen this before, the archers greatly mistimed their shots and most sailed off into nothing, missing their marks due to the the speed throwing them off. The Greeks met them with such force they practically rolled over the Persian army, breaking through and finding the relatively defenseless archers. The Persians moved into full retreat, with a resulting resounding Athenian victory. 6,000 Persians were killed at the cost of 192 Greeks.

The Greeks sent a messenger back to Athens to tell them of their victory, and if he actually did run the length of a marathon (probably slightly less) and then die after declaring the win is a little muddled. Without getting into a massive discussion on if this actually happened... lets just leave it at a "maybe".

The Spartans arrived the following morning to see the devastation. It makes you wonder if they were disappointed they missed the show.

The Battle of Marathon: Part 3 - The Greeks and the Beginnings of War

When you think about ancient classes of warriors of hundreds or thousands of years ago you'll typically find yourself with some variety of picture in your mind - stereotypical depictions of lone samurai or knights clad in gleaming, beautiful armour - and when you read about the actual style, visually or otherwise, you might find yourself rather disappointed. Knights back in the day don't look as closely to my Diablo III characters as much as I would hope, and I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that Samurai Jack might be fictional. Athens and Sparta in their prime, however, live up to all the hype and all the excitement that you see in movies. In fact, in the latest, mediocre 300 movie where the Athenians are depicted as simple farmer folk who can't fight all that well (but are still inexplicably jacked beyond belief) actually sells them short a little. Sparta on the other hand is just as battle hardened and fear inspiring as everything you've heard.

But anyways - time for historical fact. There will be plenty of time (and one should always make time) for 300 later.

A statue of an Athenian, the richer,
weaker version of a Spartan. Still
pretty tough to beat though.

Athens came to flourish not as a warrior state (well, not entirely), nor as a farming one. The soil wasn't particularly great around the area so they had to make a living through other means, and those means just happened to be trade. They became exceedingly wealthy, although still far, far, far less wealthy than Persia out east through means of being the go-between from all the other Greek cities. A lot of people, 300: Rise of an Empire included, depict them as militarily weak due to this very reason - but that's simply not the case. They still fought with fair regularity, at one point holding off the advance of Sparta itself. At the time of Marathon they still had generals that had fought in previous wars that provided a sense of calm and a veteran backing to their military force. In addition to all this, they were the founders of democracy; that doesn't just mean they can feel a pompous sense of superiority (although it totally does mean that) but it would also mean that they very well might fight harder. A soldier that is fighting for himself and his people rather than for a tyrant or king is going to be more inclined to put it all on the line.

So what about Sparta? I said earlier they live up to their high modern standards of the pinnacle of warrior-hood, and the reason being they had to make everything about war out of necessity of keeping their lifestyle. Some time ago they grew to dominate the surrounding people, not quite enslaving them, but... pretty darn close. They gave them terrible enough conditions (making them send their resources up the line, high taxes, that sort of stuff) that the lowers - called Helots - may very well revolt. If they're to revolt, then Sparta had better make sure they won. The best deterrent to revolt is to get so, so, so ridiculously good at warfare that no one dare try to fight them. The result was a Spartan society that didn't have to worry about farming, and focus entirely on becoming a living, breathing force of military power. The problem is they couldn't really venture out a conquerin' because the moment the bulk of the military wandered off, the Helots would revolt. Essentially, Sparta was so tough that the toughest nails would say they were as tough as Spartans. But to convince them to leave their door, no matter how high the stakes, is another matter altogether. 

Spartans made of bronze are actually
softer than the real life version.

So that's what's going on back home in Greece when they get word that Ionia is revolting over the high taxes and ruined economy that Persia has caused. Athens moves to help, but Sparta, taking a look at some shifty-eyed half-slaves, decides to stay home and work out a little more. The Athenians, to their credit, went and burned down Sardis, the former capital of the Lydians turned Persian city, but had to bid a hasty retreat after confronting too strong of a Persian force. After they leave, Ionia, the Greek-owned city states south of Lydia and across the water from Greece, falls to Persian might. In addition to that, Athens just poked the bear that clawed them. 

Persia at this time is essentially an unstoppable war machine. They're taking territory left right and centre, created the greatest empire the world had known at that time, and were poised to attack mainland Greece. Their army was so strong that the cities of Greece didn't fight, but instead just rolled right over and agreed to join Persia out of fear of, you know, the whole death and destruction thing that happens when you don't immediately surrender to a ridiculously giant army. Well, I guess I should say most Greek cities turned.

Sparta and Athens are making a stand.

Famous Historical Figures Say the Darndest Things!

1. "For after they had completed the conquest of the cities, they picked out the most handsome boys and castrated them, making them eunuchs instead of males. And they dragged off the most beautiful virgins to the King. After they had carried out these threats, they also set fire to the cities and to their sanctuaries, too." This. This right here is why they surrendered to the Persians.
2. "The Spartan's life is so unendurable that it is no wonder he throws it away lightly in battle." An Athenian said this about the Spartan way of growing up, notoriously a brutal way of living that makes you pretty well unbreakable.

The Battle of Marathon: Part 2 - Cyrus

I know this goes well, well before the Battle of Marathon, and perhaps the title of the last couple blogs is a touch misleading, but gosh darn it the Persian stuff is crazy interesting. There's been baby prejudice (though both eating them and attempting to murder them), psychotic kings, and enough political intrigue to pass for a "poignant" television show on HBO. And just like a good HBO drama, there are a plethora of characters with separate backstories that all somehow link together into one little package. Lets meet them:

Astyages, the king of Media - brutal and cold, fond of infanticide.
Harpagos, general in Astyages army - he may have eaten his own son, but notably against infanticide.

Without the taking of Lydia,
Cyrus the Great may have only
been known as "the pretty good".

Cyrus, Persian baby - narrowly avoiding his murder as an infant, he's rising up and a little angry.

Cyrus grew up to become a member of what was a very small Persian population. They were also a population that was rather upset with the rule of Astyages, and understandably - I believe I've done well enough to show that he was not a pleasant fellow. Eventually the Persians got fed up with him to the point that a revolt was now in the cards. Astyages, in all his infinite wisdom, decided to send Harpagos to quell the rebellion. Keep in mind this is the very same Harpagos that quite possibly ate his own son earlier due to the trickery of the king (at least according to the Greek historian that is going to be pretty well the only source we're going to get on the matter). Somehow - somehow! - Astyages didn't see any possible discontent within the ranks. The result was a Median force that went to stomp out a rebellion, but ended joining it instead. Suddenly, Harpagos was buddy buddy with the leader of the rising Persian force - none other than Cyrus, the child prophesized to usurp the king of Media, Astyages.

Fearing the worst after hearing the news of his general moving to the other side, he sent out another force to meet them - but that force brought the king in chains and turned him over. It really makes you think just how terrible this guy was to his people. He gets undermined at every turn. While Astyages' fate becomes a little muddled after this (but we can presume it didn't lead to a very positive outcome) what's really important is the fact that Persia and Media essentially merged - well, not entirely, but for all we need to know, they're essentially one and the same. Unfortunately for them, they had little time to celebrate as Lydia, the powerful and rich land to the west got word and wasn't really too fond of having a strong military power on their border while not knowing of their intents.

Croseus, the leader of Lydia, feels it's a good idea to let the Greeks know of the impending threat and sends for some help before this force to the east truly becomes a powerful and established army. They quickly hop on board, knowing that any army that's big and strong but isn't of their own flesh and blood is inherently a negative. Feeling confident in their wealthy, Greek-supported fighting force, Croseus sets out to check on the Persians. He moves to defend the city of Sardis before his allies arrive. He's also a little overconfident; thinking these Persians won't put up much of a fight, he sends home a large number of his men, except for his trump card - his expert cavalry force, enough to rival anyone against him basically on their own.

Croesus, shares my personal desires of being immortalized
on jars after my death.

The Persia/Media army, with Cyrus at the helm, suddenly realize that war is coming and the stakes are high. If they don't hit them now, they're going to be going against one heck of an army when the Greeks arrive, so they have no choice but to knock these guys off before they can become unified and stronger than ever. Croesus, powerful army of cavalry at his side, moves to meet the Persians in the open field. However, Cyrus had a trick up his sleeve, as he knew this was to be the case.

Camels.

Horses are notoriously skittish creatures, and when they see something new and unexpected they may not be so willing to charge into battle towards it. Knowing this to be true, Cyrus leads a great number of men on camels into the fray, terrifying the horses and sending them anywhere but where they needed to go. The Persian archers only had an undefended, scared, and defenceless infantry to deal with. It was a rout. Lydian forces retreated as fast as they could, back towards Sardis to defend the walls and lick their wounds.

Camels. The beast that scared the tremendous
cavalry force of Croesus into submission.
Camels. Really.

Unfortunately for Cyrus, attacking a walled city usually ended up in siege warfare that could take weeks, and time was not on his side. Knowing reinforcements were on the way, he had to act fast and take them out as soon as possible. Now, there's a story that Herodotus relates to the siege that should be taken with a grain of salt. It's hard to say exactly how true it is, or if it's just a good story to pass along. He says the Persians spotted a section of the walls where it was so tall that it was virtually undefended. A Persian scout was watching this section and saw a defender drop his helmet off the edge by accident, and climbed down a section of the wall to retrieve it, and returned without much issue. A Persian scout saw this and reported it back to the generals, showing them how to climb a section of seemingly unscalable wall where the defenders would be scarce. They had the rather easy decision of saying that was the place to attack from. The end result was an annihilation of the city much faster than a traditional siege. Croesus had an unknown fate, but that hardly matters - Persia took their capital and made it their city. While the story may sound far fetched at first, archaeological evidence was found (somehow) that could very well relate it to truth. After finding what is very likely to be the spot of attack, they found the remains of a man the appropriate age for a soldier, with arms broken from what may be desperately defending sword attacks, in a position that likely would have had him thrown from the wall. The icing on the cake was finding a helmet roughly the age of when Cyrus would have attacked just feet from his body. Who knows? Could be true.

So I leave you with Cyrus at the helm, strong as ever, having defeated the Lydians. Greece is already not too fond of them. We'll see how this plays out.

The Battle of Marathon: Part 1 - Astyages and Media

This is pretty typical for the Persians
in 300.

You know, you have to feel for Persia. The 300 movies - the original and Rise of an Empire - don't really give them a fair shake. Their armies are ruled by Xerxes, a gold-speedo wearing god-villain whose sole purpose seems to be to make the viewer feel uncomfortable, and in the later, they're led by Eva Green, whose sole purpose is to reveal as much as possible while still technically wearing armour. Their soldiers are not referred to as cannon fodder strictly because cannons have not yet been invented. It makes you wonder how these men seemingly made of paper and a battle plan that consists of hopefully drowning their opponents by flooding the battlefield with their blood ever came to be a force that would ever possibly defeat the Spartans and Athenians that are seemingly made of stone. Perhaps they just thought paper covers rock?

Persia's rise to power is actually pretty dang interesting, filled with violence, betrayals, and possible baby-eating. Therefore it seems fair to give a bit of background on the combatants in the Battle of Marathon before we get to all the fighting.

First, a bit of geography here. Greece is across the Aegean Sea from four important territories; Lydia, Persia, Media and Ionia. Lydia became super rich (largely due to the fact that they likely created the first coin) and powerful enough that Greece was paying tribute to it. Media and Persia were closely linked ethnically, culturally and geographically, but Persia was smaller and somewhat of an underdog. Ionia was a Greek controlled city state but on the same side of the Aegean as the rest of them. That's the basics of what you need to know to understand all this.

This is a depiction of Astyages' dream. I'd be
a paranoid freak-show if I dreamt crap like this too.

However, none of those places yet matter without a little character development. The king of Media, Astyages, is where this all begins (sort of). He was more than a little paranoid, certainly a fair lot cruel, and definitely not opposed to the occasional murder. He also dreamed in what must be rather nightmarish fashion, as he foresaw a his daughter leading to his eventual death and downfall while she rises up and takes the throne. His dream-seers (or interpreters, fortune tellers, what have you) told him that it could be the husband of his daughter, so he got her to pretty much just go out and marry a wimp. Problem solved on that front. However, she had a son, and that son may just prove to be the usurper after all. The reasonable progression of thought here for Astyages was it would be easiest to bump off the usurper if he had not yet mastered the art of crawling yet, and ordered a commander of his army, Harpagos, to kill the child. Yes - Astyages ordered the death of a baby because he felt threatened.

Harpagos, likely having some sort of, well, pretty darn reasonable qualms with murdering infants, tricked Astyages. He found a few Persians who just had their infant die and convinced them to do the old switcharoo. Yes, he switched out the babies and took the dead one to present to Astyages - and it worked. The name of the saved baby and son of the daughter of Astyages was Cyrus - born into a world where he narrowly avoids his murder and prophesied to go take the throne from his gramps. It's like a thousand year old episode of Maury. 

Herodotus; the guy just looks like
a historian.

Here's where it gets a little less PG-13 and falls more into the horror genre. Astages got word of the trick Harpagos played on him and invited him for dinner where he (I warn you, this is not for the faint of heart) chopped up Harpagos' son and fed it to him. (As a side-note, Astyages had those dream-readers impaled.) I believe it's safe to say that Astyages is the villain of this story. At this point it seems fair to remind everyone that all of these stories have to be taken with a grain of salt. Astyages reined from 585-550 BC. They weren't exactly recording all this. The majority of the information comes from archaeological evidence and the reports of Herodotus, a Greek historian. There's only so much value you can put on the accuracy, but unfortunately, it's what we've got. To his credit, plenty of the physical evidence left behind, as little as there may be, seems to match up fairly well with his reports.


So here's where we stand thus far; Cyrus is now separate from Media and surviving the wrath of Astyages. Harpagos is most certainly down in the dumps. Astyages is working through his severe psychological issues that have led to his war on infancy. Stay tuned for part two - the revenge of Cyrus!

The Samurai: Part 3 - Fading Out

The end of the samurai came through two means: a long stretch of peacetime that rendered the warriors mostly obsolete due to a lack of purpose, and a sudden wave of modernization that left them officially obsolete due to a lack of technology.

The period of peace came after a religious extermination, and one that you would likely not expect. No, it wasn't Buddhism, Confucianism or some weird game-show based religion that I can only assume has sprung up recently, but Christianity that was once a growing part of Japan before being entirely stomped out. Christians came to Japan sometime in the 15th century, building churches and handing out bibles like shame-based candy. All the while a few of the converts were picking up very Western names in light of their recent religious transition and mixing it with their families, quite clearly of two differing cultures, resulting in names like Damien Kuroda for example. Suddenly, after strictly Japanese names since their foundation you'll find the occasional "Bartholomew" thrown in the history books. It's important to know they still only carry "Bort" licence plates. 

Christians being killed... somewhere. They're in there.
I promise.

Not everyone in Japan was all fine and dandy with the transition, however. The shogunate (essentially the military general) deemed it a slow colonial invasion and feared the eventual takeover of Japan by the Roman Catholic Church. Suddenly a threat, he ordered the abolishment of Christianity, killing some and forcing the rest to renounce their religion. As a means of assuring they weren't doing so in name only, the suspected Christians would have to walk over a picture of a saint in order to show a lack of devotion. The end result was an annihilation of the religion in Japan, completely forcing out the followers - although it can be assumed there may be a few closet Christians with particularly sinful feet here and there.

With the Christians gone, Japan entered into a state of peace - a really, really long state of peace. Further assuring it would stay that way, they also closed off their borders to the outside world, save for a few select ships coming from China and Korea and, oddly enough, the Netherlands - because really, who could hate the Dutch? The peace and isolation lasted around two hundred years, right up until about the 1850s when things started to go awry. Think about that for a moment; samurai were hanging around and Japan is in a period of isolation just prior to Canada becoming a country. So during this period of peace, we have to remember what this article is about in the first place - the samurai, the now highly ranked warrior class that has no notable wars left to fight. The civil wars are over, rebellions are few, and the borders are shut off. So what do they do? Well, they didn't really do all that much, at least in the way of traditional samurai training. They began to lose a taste of what a samurai was meant to be; martial arts training started to wane, and they began to look much closer to merchants and other citizens rather than the supreme warriors of old. They took up other skills as fighting war no longer in great demand. 

Either one of the shoguns during the final periods of
isolation, or a picture of one of the villains from
Samurai Jack. I can't remember which.

Traditionalists started to see this as a problem, much as tired old men (and myself) complain about the youth of today with their newfangled clothing and hairstyles. As more of a reaction to the changes and crazy social progressions of those wild early-1800s Japanese kids, Bushido started to develop as a concept. While it may seem like Bushido, the idea of the chivalry-esque warrior code of the samurai, should be something that dates back to ancient times, it's more of a push-back to the falling out of the samurai as they began to grow defunct. Bushido was a way of gently reminding the public that samurai aren't meant to learn to sing and dance, save for battle-cries and something akin to a "dance of death". As I understand it, Bushido is now used as some sort of modern business technique based on samurai culture, which seems like somewhat of a perversion of the ideals in and of itself unless meetings end in stunning one on one combat. 

Commodore Perry: his friends always said
he was "more of a Joey".

It's important to note that at this time samurai still very much existed, held the same degree of power and were still warriors even if only mostly in name. What truly ended the samurai was Matthew Perry. Well, Commodore Matthew Perry, although he may have viewed his shipmates as friends. Eventually, the world got pretty well fed up with Japan and their refusal to come for tea (in Britain), come for tea (in Canada, but early Canada, so it's still pretty much British) or eat a burger (in America). Staying consistent with American ideals that ring true even today, the U.S. stepped in and saved the Japanese from themselves, bringing their much, much, much larger ships to the shores of Japan and basically letting them know that they've grown bigger and stronger after they've broken apart - much the same as a high-schooler would describe how great their life has been to their ex after seeing him or her again sometime after a breakup. The only difference is American was about to step in and change the lives of the Japanese forever.

With the addition of new technology, western influences and really just vast, sweeping changes as a whole, samurai were slowly pushed out. What place on the battlefield does a sword-weilding man in armour play in modern (or at least relatively modern) warfare? Well, in a lot of movies they would fare quite well, but in real life people can aim.

_____________________________________
The information from "The Samurai" series came from the book A Brief History of the Samurai by Jonathan Clements.
_____________________________________

The Samurai: Part 2 - Battles

If the previous entry was about who the samurai were, this is about who they fought, why they fought them and if they managed to live or die in the process. The samurai fought on their home turf amongst themselves or invaders, as well as on the Asian mainland, having somewhat mixed results along the way. While you might think of the samurai as some indomitable fighting force, you'll find that their win/loss record would plant them somewhere in the middle table in some sort of medieval fighting league.

In battles with Korea, after the Christians came and
shared some of their technology, Samurai had guns.
Samurai with guns! What the heck is that?!

The first battles for the samurai were against the Emishi, a civilization of people in northeastern Japan that were known for being hairier - the book I read on this really stressed that for whatever reason - than what we would normally perceive the Japanese to be. This occurred during the early years of the samurai, at a time where, as I mentioned in the previous blog, they were described as the uneducated, more brutish forces on the outskirts of Japan rather than the relative sophistication of the capital. Essentially, the samurai were the warriors sent out to do the dirty work; quell rebellions, stomp out the unruly, and all in all bring more power to the centralized Japan they weren't really that much a part of. The samurai were ultimately successful, as you may have guessed due to the tremendous lack of thick-furred Japanese men in modern day.

Having the island pretty much to themselves, the samurai were still very much alive and just as much in need of something to fight. This becomes somewhat of a common theme for the samurai, as they quickly learned that when there is no army left to conquer on their lands, they must turn on each other. Infighting over lineage, while certainly not unique to Japan, becomes an important aspect of samurai life. I mentioned before that much of Japan had a "might makes right" ideal, and because of this the samurai found their way to greater and greater importance. Having the military as such an integral piece in gaining power and control in the country, the samurai rose up the ranks to the point of being nobility in Japanese society. Bred as warriors from birth, being a samurai was a highly ranked and respected position, and also largely hereditary.

A picture of the crab/Samurai cross. If I got one of those
at Red Lobster I'd be pretty freaked out too.

A particularly important civil war was between two large clans vying for supremacy; the Minamoto and the Taira. The Taira, losing the war and pushed to the brink of extinction and living on ships off the coast of Japan, were completely eliminated by the Minamoto. Women threw themselves off the boats, dying rather than being captured, with the soldiers either falling in battle or committing seppuku. What happened afterwards was a rather strange occurrence of natural selection. The area in which the Taira were obliterated was a section of Japan fished frequently for crabs. The fisherman, terrified of being haunted by samurai dead (which, admittedly, does sound horrifying) found a species of crab that has a variable pattern on their back which on occasionally looks like a human face. Thinking one less crab in the pile was a fair trade for not living in perpetual fear, they would throw the face-crabs back in the waters. Naturally, those crabs grew with great abundance and their genes were passed on much more quickly than the faceless ones. Skip ahead to modern day, and we have an area of Japan where a clan of great historical significance was slaughtered populated with crabs bearing faces similar to people. Freaky. Also hardly significant to samurai battles, but hey, history is history.

The samurai were not only used to kill each other, however. They also made attempts to take over territory on the Asian mainland, attacking Korea and China. They actually made great headway into Korea, briefly succeeding in an occupation of the territory, but eventually losing out due to the combined efforts of two large and angry countries defending against one that is separated by water. A key part of the defense was Korea's naval might attacking Japanese ships between their travels to and from. The separation in land that proved the failure of the Japanese assault later saved them against invaders, as water in medieval times, and realistically pretty well up to modern day, was notoriously dangerous to cross - for example, the Carthaginians, the Titanic, and the happenings of Piranha 3D/Piranha 3DD. 

A wind so strong it just had to be divine.

The Japanese also on occasion had to consider defence, as well. The Mongols, a powerhouse due to the leadership of Genghis Khan, was lining up to take a swing at Japan. Coming at the Japanese with a massive number of ships, they thought the isolated island seemed to be a nice vacation spot post-raiding. Their first battles were a shock to the samurai; the Japanese warriors, coming out to meet the Mongols with their traditional style of announcing their name and challenging them to one on one combat found themselves littered with arrows. Suddenly the situation looked a little bleak; a massive invasion force that just didn't feel like playing by the rules. While it's impossible to say what the outcome may have been (although looking at the track record of the Mongols at the time, Japan's fate wasn't in the best of shape) the samurai were saved by an incredibly fortunate occurrence; the sudden onslaught on the Mongol ships from the Kamikaze. Now, as much as I would absolutely love to say that a massive fleet of suicidal aircraft descended upon them, the word Kamikaze (translated as "divine wind") was originally about a massive typhoon that obliterated the fleet and saved the island from the invaders. The Mongols rebuilt and attacked again, but a second typhoon delivered the same fate. The Japanese soon brought religious proportions to the storms, hence the name "divine wind".

So what happened to the samurai? They seemed to be in power for so long, how could they possibly fall apart as they did? Well, tune in for the next blog while I detail the fall of the samurai.

Famous Historical Figures Say the Darndest Things!

1. "The surface of the sea was thick with scarlet banners and scarlet pennants cast away, like scattered red leaves after an autumn storm on the Tatsuta river. The once-white waves that crashed upon the shore were dyed crimson. Masterless, abandoned ships drifted on the wind and tide, melancholy and directionless."  A description of the massacre of the Taira out at sea. It was described in newspapers as "kind of a downer."
2. "[The Mongol ships] were impaled on the rocks, dashed against the cliffs, or tossed on land like corks from the spray... they sank by the hundreds. The corpses were piled on the shore, or floated on the water so thickly that it seemed almost possible to walk thereon." Seriously, all of their literature must have been just unbearably depressing.

The Samurai: Part 1 - The Who and When

I write these blogs with the intention of giving brief, to-the-point histories of subjects I find interesting without having the intense length and depth of books or, to be honest, a lot of wikipedia articles. The inherent issues that come from that are so much gets lost along the way; the samurai existed in all their glory from (very roughly) the 700s to the mid 1800s, and that stretch of time is going to see a vast array of changes in their styles and practices. It also can really bog you down in time periods, names, political climates and any assortment of high school test-esque information that may one day save you in Trivial Pursuit, but likely never again. Therefore, I acknowledge that this entry on the samurai is going to very, very lightly touch on the idea of the samurai, but... such is life.

A samurai demonstrating his
"sparse fern camouflage" clothing
option.

Early (and by early I mean 700 A.D. kind of early) Japan was centralized in the capital, the place where the money and power resided most heavily with the provinces on the outskirts hanging off the coattails. The warrior caste represented these differences as well; the warriors in the capital saw themselves as these educated, reformed and refined soldiers while looking down on the lowly brawlers of the outer provinces. This is likely when the term samurai began to take hold, and contrary to what you may believe, it means something a lot closer to servant than soldier. The samurai were the warriors outside of the capital, closer to the drunken pub brawler you see after Newcastle loses rather than the image of the top of the line warrior the word conjures up - at least that's what the capital's soldiers felt about them. I'd like to note that this is just how they originated - the samurai later became a ruling elite class of nobles while still maintaining their warrior nature. It was a clearcut case of "might makes right" in ancient Japan.

Absolutely terrifying, except for what
appears to be a lemon wedge on his head.

The manner in which they fought was what really defined a samurai, though, not their origins or the location of their battles. Their fighting style and unwritten code (yes, unwritten, unless you're considering Bushido, but more on that later) was rather defined and seemingly followed by pretty well all of the truest of samurai. Individuality was a central tenant; there was plenty of grandstanding, forcing the onlookers of both sides to know who was doing the actual fighting so they could make a name for themselves. When yelling wasn't doing the trick, they would wear brightly coloured armour to signify who they were and once again make them more immediately recognizable, similar to the character creation premise of Soul Calibur down the historical line. In addition to the armour, they would also craft a number of fearsome and unique headpieces to be all the more memorable.

A photo - yes, a photo - of some samurai.
The man on the left and the two on the right
are part of the "Fashion Police Clan", posing
after having successfully captured an enemy.

Much of samurai warfare was based around becoming the biggest name you could be, and one such way you could find notoriety was, well, killing those who had a greater notoriety than you. While today a way to prove you're victorious in a competition is a medal or some other form of recognition (or in the case of Starcraft a league promotion - I can brag to all my friends that I was once in Masters, and brag I shall) they went with the much simpler solution of simply removing the head of those they've defeated and keeping that, instead. If you thought you were going to lose, and you make the rather reasonable decision to run rather than have a critical piece of anatomy severed from the rest of you, your distinctive, brightly coloured armour is going to look all the more foolish as you get the heck out of there. Oh, and if they catch up to you and take you as a prisoner? The reason seppuku arose (the manner in which samurai commit suicide) was because offing oneself was a much, much less painless way in losing your life than at the hands of your captors. While seppuku started as a rather small group of samurai who practiced it - although I'll note that it doesn't really seem like the kind of thing you can pass down from generation to generation - it later became integrated in most samurai as a way of accepting defeat upon the loss of their lord they're meant to protect, or when in the face of certain defeat. Despite the fact that it at first sounds like a coward's way out to kill yourself instead of going down fighting, it was seen as an honourable act. While the Samurai Jack movie is yet to be created, I really hope he chooses the 'fight to the end' option rather than an incredibly depressing seppuku ending.

In the next part of the series, I will discuss how the samurai were used in wars and how they matched up against other civilizations. Mongols, Koreans and Chinese? I'm talking about you!

Terry Fox

There are few things in life so inarguably good that no one person dares to question it. In spite of it all, there are people who - believe it or not - don't like the taste of chocolate, my mother being one of them. I'm sure there are some sick freaks out there that don't like fields of lilacs - likely the allergic or those riddled with agoraphobia. There are even some that dare say Electric Six isn't the greatest band from the late nineties to now, despite the appearances of Surge Joebot, Frank Lloyd Bonaventure and Dr. Blacklips Hoffman throughout their history. Terry Fox, however, is one of such precious few exceptions to this rule. If you have an ounce of Canadian blood in you, his name alone should cause it to stand at attention and salute.

Repeating the basic life story as a beginner summary seems somewhat pointless here considering the vast majority of my admittedly small audience would be Canadian, already familiar with his life. Nevertheless, I'll give you the basics. Fox was diagnosed with cancer at a young age, and decided to run across Canada with one leg to raise money for research against the disease under the name the Marathon of Hope. His determination, selflessness and sheer force of will has been an inspiration, and a point of pride for Canadians as a whole.

Fox struggled with boredom

on his runs as the iPod has not yet

been invented.

Terry Fox's early life reads something akin to a low-budget family channel movie; a child described as short, weak and an overall terrible sportsman shows up to every practice, first to arrive and last to leave. In spite of a lack of inherent physical ability, he becomes a solid basketball player through little more than sheer determination and good ol' fashioned hard work, becoming the captain of his high school team by his grade twelve year. It makes you wonder if this is one of those mythologized aspects of someone's life that is said post-mortem in order to further a message - in this case Terry's unbreakable spirit. The whole story is so gosh darn inspirational you must think he had a perpetual tape of "Gonna Fly Now" playing in his head, living his life through a series of montages.

Fox began to notice a severe pain in his knee (which he had dismissed for quite some time in order to continue playing basketball) which turned out to be cancerous. At the age of eighteen, he had his right leg amputated. Recovering in a ward with a number of children, all struck by cancer themselves, Terry came to the terrible realization that they lacked hope. He then set out to give those children something to root for, deciding he would run across Canada, battered by cancer, his heart damaged by chemotherapy and equipped with a prosthetic leg that forced him to run with a limp that is certainly familiar to the entirety of the country. With the help of a close childhood friend, he began his run with the hope of raising money along the way.

Fox reminds us that no matter what we're
doing, we can always do it with a heck
of a lot more effort.

The beginnings of his race, starting in St. John's, began with minimal media attention and a feeling of futility that would easily have stopped many of those in his position. He travelled through town after town, but lacking public knowledge and organization, he raised very little money - or "scrilla" as my younger readers may be more familiar with. The greatest disappointment in earnings came from (surprise surprise) Quebec, where I can assume a general distaste for contributing to causes not associated with foolish pledges for separatism caused hardly a penny to come Terry's way. You could only imagine the discouragement in the whole ordeal - training tremendously for this event, earning little, and moving a marathon a day with one leg and finding precious little to show for it. People would ask him what he was doing and offering rides (really just a way of showing him they had no idea who he was or what he was doing) and once or twice someone tried to run him off the road, making the person who attempted the act collectively remembered by Canadians as "that nameless lowlife".

Fortunately, the tide was about to change through the addition of a public relations guy that would move ahead of Terry, hit his destinations and raise some awareness with the help of local news stations and this new fangled technology, the television. Suddenly, and seemingly very quickly, Terry Fox became a renowned name. Donations came in much more freely, there would be people waiting to greet him, invitations to join events, he was told to give speeches, advertisers wanted a piece of him... he was the talk of the country. In a sense, it's what he wanted - the more publicity and public knowledge, the more money that would come rolling in for the cause he was championing. There was, however, a difficulty associated with all this in the form of quite simply the great strain of having to deal with the limelight of sudden celebrity, mixed with the ever present fact that he was still running a tremendous amount daily, surely enough to tire the average man out before the meetings and general public had a chance to even see him. While it weighed heavily on him, and there were times when he genuinely wished he could simply go home, the emotionally ravaged and physically exhausted Terry Fox pressed on.

Terry Fox's entire route. I am suddenly very embarrassed
thinking how proud of myself I am when I run 5km. 

To make matters worse, a newspaper ran a story accusing Terry of driving rather than running through Quebec. Fox became irate, got him on the phone and broke down and cried, yelling at the author and asking him why he would write such an article. The writer was a man named Doug Collins, and naturally I was inclined to feel a deep, seething hatred for the man seeing as how he made damaging accusations against a Canadian hero... but then I read he's a World War II veteran and suddenly my feelings are mixed. Gosh darn it, couldn't he have just been a Nazi or something so I could feel black and white emotions towards him?

While the Marathon of Hope had suddenly come to the nation's attention at a tremendously grand scale, his cancer had come back in full force. Spreading to his lungs, with a tumour the size of a lemon in one and a golf ball in another (but likely neither sour nor labeled as a Titleist) grew and were showing no signs of leaving. In one of the most emotionally charged speeches you're going to see, Terry was forced to abandon his attempt due to the complications from the disease. In recognition for his lion level of courage and a whale's level of heart (they probably have huge hearts), he was the youngest ever to receive the Order of Canada, one of the most prestigious awards a Canadian citizen can achieve.

Terry Fox passed away on June 28th, 1981, but his legacy continues. The Terry Fox Foundation has raised $600 million for cancer research, there is a mountain named in his honour, there are countless statues, streets and buildings in his name, and teachers everywhere rejoice in having the joys of cancelling a half-day of school for the annual Terry Fox Run.

Terry Fox is what every Canadian should aspire to be.

________________________________
The information for this blog was largely taken from ESPN's 30 for 30 on Terry Fox, titled Into the Wind.
________________________________

Famous Historical Figures Say the Darndest Things!

1. "I'm running on one leg. It may not look like I'm running fast, but I'm going as hard as I can."  He is, by definition, a trooper - at least in the Urban Dictionary version.
2. "It took cancer to realize that being self-centred is not the way to live. The answer is to try and help others." Quotes like that helped him beat out Trudeau for CBC's list of the greatest Canadians.
3. "Even if I don't finish, we need others to continue. It's got to keep going without me." 

The Hundred Years' War: Part 4 - Joan of Arc

When I was nineteen years old, I had just finished high school, was busy coasting through the first year of university, and my most important struggle was balancing just enough time to pass my courses while devoting as much time as possible to World of Warcraft. Joan of Arc at the age of nineteen had the somewhat more significant worries of convincing a king her visions of saints were real, rallying the beleaguered forces of France to an unlikely victory, and eventually trying to find a way to avoid being burned at the stake for heresy. Fortunately, now at age 23, I can safely say I've caught up in notoriety as I have now found that balance of video game time and schoolwork.

In case you hadn't read the previous entires, at the point in history when Joan of Arc was born, France was in a tremendous amount of trouble. The Hundred Years' War was drawing to a close with Britain controlling much of northern France and tightening the noose around the southern half. Orleans was one of the last bastions of French power, and if that city were to fall it would have been quite likely the food in France would be changing from baguettes to crumpets.

Joan of Arc, hardly concerned with
her terrible case of helmet-hair.

Fortunately, the saviour of the French people (saving them from generations of terrible English bread) came in an unlikely form - a twelve year old girl who hears voices. Honestly, the whole story sounds so ridiculous if it were a television show instead of cold, historical fact it would be deemed so unbearably ludicrous no one would have any interest. Well, I suppose Joan of Arcadia was created, but from what I can tell from IMDB she didn't lead any armies into battle, and the series finale contained one less stake burning than you would expect.

Joan began to see visions of saints - Catherine, Margaret and Michael, specifically - who told her she was the only one able to drive the English out of French territory. The dreams must have been convincing as she actually bothered to act on them; I feel with most dreams, you wake up and forget the majority of it and wonder what the heck garden gnomes had to do with any of it. Believing them to be true, she tried to manage safe passage to the soon-to-be French king, but was initially denied. What finally won the army over to let her see the dauphin was an accurate prediction on a British assault. Likely fearing they have nothing to lose if they brought her over, and their eternal souls at stake if they were to deny the will of God if the girl was telling the truth, Joan was on her way to the court of the dauphin.

Somehow she managed to impress the French court. The government gave her armour, and her horse, sword and banner came through donations provided to her through other means. The reason why the French went along with this seemingly asinine plan was they simply may have exhausted all of their non-ridiculous options. With Orleans under siege and pretty much everything going to crap around them, they must have been in the mood for a long-shot.

When appearing on the battlefield, she quickly changed the course of the siege. France had been defending for an exceptionally long time, pretty well allowing the British to step in and begin to attack the city. In all fairness, Orleans was exceptionally well defended, and would have proved to be an incredibly difficult city to overtake. However, defence was not in the cards for Joan's plan, and she decided to take the fight to the British. She hit the outlying areas and small encampments of British that were surrounding the city, effectively stopping the siege itself after only a few days time. The beginning stages of the military campaign of Joan of Arc were off to a resoundingly strong start.

Joan of Arc bringing the dauphin to Reims. She's... in the centre I think.

The dauphin, Charles VII, realized that if Joan of Arc were to lead the military movements, or at the very least be the face of the resistance, it was soon to become a religiously charged war seeing as the visions of Joan's youth were the reason for her taking over. Background checks (I don't know how these were done - I don't think they had computers) were done on Joan's character, which she passed with flying colours. The worry was if she was to succeed, but was not morally sound, the crowning of the king would be as if it was given to him by the devil - false visions from someone of a low moral standing. They had to ensure she was good or else she would be branded a heretic or sorceress, but not the cool kind of spell-casting sorceress in RPG video games.

As for the actual military leadership of Joan of Arc? Well, it's a little up for debate: she never actually had direct command, and she played more of an advisor role more than anything else. She was likely just a standard bearer, carrying around a sword but not one to really charge into battle and lay waste to a bunch of snarling Brits. That being said, she wasn't entirely out of the fighting either; she took an arrow around the neck and shoulder but returned to the fight shortly after. Later she would take another wound, this one a crossbow bolt to the leg, but power through it once again.

Her capture while trying to pass the dreaded Burgundian wallpapered pass.

Regardless of how strong of a role she played, she brought a strong morale boost to the people of France, a gleaming beacon of hope on an otherwise disparaging battlefield. Showing her boldness once again, she planned to charge the English ranks and cut a gap in their defences allowing the French dauphin to march towards Reims for his coronation. This caught the English off-guard, as they expected her to go pretty much anywhere but, and the result was a slaughter of the English and a resounding French victory.

This would be the last great victory for Joan of Arc, as she was captured by the Burgundians (one half of the French civil war that sided with the British) in a battle sometime after. In spite of rescue and escape attempts (she tried jumping seventy feet from the tower she was kept in) she was put on trial for heresy. Now, it sounds a little silly to say she didn't get a fair trial - I mean, she's about as far as friendly to the British as she could be - but the whole thing is actually kind of a mess. She was tried for heresy - that means it was a trial that was taken care of by the church, and should have no secular interference. However, because of the degree of importance in British affairs, there were threats-a-plenty, tampering of evidence, and the jury was all English (presumedly put in place by a medieval-era Johnnie Cochran). Obviously, she was convicted and burned at the stake, showing that if you claim to hear the voices of saints and be under orders of God, you best be able to prove it.

She was later deemed innocent after a retrial (her ashes ecstatic at the verdict) and went on to become a saint. Now, France has to deal with the fact that one of their greatest military leaders was a teenage girl.

The Hundred Years' War: Part 3 - Lancastrian War

A modern depiction of the Dauphin.

If you have found this blog by chance, saw the word 'Lancastrian' and read it as 'Lannister', I apologize but you are about to be sorely disappointed. This blog is about the third instalment of The Hundred Years' War, detailing the Lancastrian period in which we see such delightful characters as Joan of Arc (later represented by Lisa Simpson), the King of France (later represented by Milhouse Van Houten) and the King of England (later represented by a great number of boring and aesthetically displeasing paintings made during or after that century). The previous section of the war reminds us that history is no cohesive story, meant to entertain and follow a beginning, middle and end style narrative with a thrilling climax brought to us by Gerard Butler in slow motion. It's simply a retelling of events as they happen - in this case, the middle section (the Caroline war) was simply a number of battles and exchanges of territory, spicier than peacetime but not being altogether all that groundbreaking. I guess the burning and pillaging of the French countryside and the Fabian tactics to defeat the British were pretty cool, but.. I don't know. The addition of some interesting subplots (the king of England is secretly a woman! or every single battle turns into an underdog/last stand story in which the outnumbered win in a surprise victory!) would certainly have made it a little better. Fortunately, this one has a little more substance.

But anyways...

A civil war had started in France between the Armagnacs party and the Burgundians - two rivals in south and northern France, respectively. The first battle in the Lancastrian War went soundly to the British, the Battle of Agincourt being a strong victory for the English over the Armagnacs. Henry V, the king, continued on to win fight after fight and take greater levels of territory all the while spilling all sorts of French blood, not to be confused with wine, despite the high blood/alcohol level. At this point the French king, Charles VI, started to get a little weary of all this death and destruction rampaging across his homeland which would be more than a little bit of a downer. Fearing the worst, he was forced into a treaty with the British, stating that Henry was to marry his daughter (whoring out your daughters was socially acceptable back then, when women were pretty much political currency for alliance purposes). Anyone who was to marry the French princess would then be the one to take the French throne - this of course meaning that the Dauphin (which I have just now learned means the eldest son of the king of France - you're welcome for saving you a google search) no longer has a legitimate claim to the throne. We can only imagine that upon hearing that news the poor lad would be rather peeved.

Both sides quickly learn that arrows are not the only
form of weaponry that can be fired at unnecessarily
close range.

Henry V died sometime afterwards, as the French king followed suit. In the wake of the British king's death, his infant sone took what I can only imagine to be an adorable baby sized crown and made an alliance with the Burgundians who backed the young one. The Armagnacs, on the other hand, continued to support the French side of things and held out in the southern half of France.

Despite already losing a great number of battles and men, things continued to go downhill for France when at this point they thought the drop couldn't get much steeper. A French and Scottish army lost 16,000 men, the Scots being surrounded and destroyed along with their commanders, marking the last time major reinforcements would come to France from Scotland. Losing allies, fighting a civil war and the British, their leaders killed and their ranks scattered or dead as well, France was looking like they were on the brink of annihilation. In fact, Britain thought so too - they began to lay siege to the exceptionally well defended Armagnac capital of Orleans. Taking that would be a crippling blow to France.

Joan of Arc, nicknamed "The Maid of
Orleans"; she was the original French Maid.
Oh la la.

Like most great battles of history, the tides turned when one teenage girl started hearing voices in her head. Joan of Arc, after apparently having visions of God instructing her to defeat the British, convinces the Dauphin to send her to the siege. She then steps up to the plate, inspiring the troops through medieval pump-up music and paintings of montages, and rallies the broken French armies into a powerful fighting force. Hitting the small groups surrounding the city, she frees it from the siege and continues on to break the lines of English troops. This allows the Dauphin to march through to Reims and be crowned officially.

After leading a number of minor victories, Joan of Arc was eventually captured and burned at the stake as a witch, the British simply blaming the fact that they got out maneuvered by a girl on nothing short of magic. Regardless of her progress, the English still thought they would be able to maintain control of France and eventually succeed in the takeover. What was the real nail in the coffin for them was Burgundy eventually removing themselves as an ally, leaving them without adequate support to take over such a large territory with such a high number of people.

Thus ends the Hundred Years' War. Over a century of incredible battles summed up in three crappy, poorly informed blog posts.