Higgins didn't look particularly thrilled at the news, but he made no protest. He'd barely said a word since the meeting began and Mike announced his decision to leave Higgins and his Hangman Regiment here in Tetschen.

"Any questions, Colonel?" he asked.

Higgins chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds. "I assume Engler and his flying artillery company are still attached to my regiment?"

"Yes. You can figure that's now a pretty permanent situation."

Jeff nodded. "All right. But I'd like some regular artillery as well. Assuming Holk does come ravening up the Elbe"-he said that with a completely straight face; Mike was impressed as well as amused-"having two or three culverins would be handy. Holk will be using flat-bottom barges to haul his supplies, just as we are. Thorsten's volley guns are great against cavalry but they won't do squat to sink a boat." He chewed on his lip for another two or three seconds. "I wouldn't mind some more mortars, either."

Mike looked to Duerr, who served as what an up-time American army would have called the division's G-1 officer, in charge of personnel. "Can we spare anyone, Ulbrecht?"

Unlike the two English staff officers, who were all but rolling their eyes at the absurdity of the whole conversation-culverins to sink non-existent barges, for the love of God, as if the division couldn't find better use for the artillery pieces!-Duerr's expression was placid. He was quite a bit older than Long and Leebrick, and had seen plenty of idiotic command decisions in his long career. You just had to be philosophical about it. Generals were like women. Handy to have around, as a rule, and occasionally delightful; but also given to peculiar moods and whimsies.

"Not too hard," he said. "We've kept up our recruiting even on the march. Having a reputation helps-ha!-which we certainly do after Zwenkau and Zielona Gora. So we're back up to strength and then some. Still short of cavalry, of course."