Historic Anecdotes

[Stybar]

So Sweden and Denmark have been bitch fighting each other countless of times. Seriously. The amount of wars they fought is impressive.
One of those wars was the Kalmar War. And one of the more remarkable battles in that war is the battle of Kringen.

The Danish had conscripted a force of Scottish mercenaries. The exact number is unknown, but it's estimated to have been at least 300 well-armed soldiers. They sailed to Sweden, but were blocked by the Danish navy. Instead, they chose to pass through Norway. It was a decent plan, as previous armies had done the same.

This time, however, the Norse people didn't take it well. The Scots moved through Norway, pillaging, raping and burning everything as they went. Of course, the locals decided to fight back.
The sheriff of that area, Lars Gunnarson Hågå, walked into the church of Dovre during the sermon, and slammed his massive battle ax into the floor, shouting "THE ENEMY HAS COME TO OUR LAND!"

He raised an angry militia of around 400 farmers and peasants, and marched on the Scottish soldiers. They tracked the invading army for a while, before finally ambushing them, between a steep mountain side, and a rapid river.
As the Scottish soldiers marched onto the narrow road, the Norse militia dropped rocks and logs from up on the mountain side, and opened fire with crossbows and muskets. The Scottish leader, George Sinclair, was shot in this initial volley.
Afterwards, the milita stormed the Scottish troops, fighting with old swords, axes, scythes, and other weapons-that-aren't-meant-to-be-weapons.
Almost all of the Scotts died, and those who survived were taken prisoner, and the corpses were thrown into a mass grave, outside of the church grounds.


This battle was immortalized in the poem "Zinklarvisa" by Norwegian poet Edvard Storm, and for some reason it is sung as a traditional folk song on the Faroe Islands.
Personally, I know of this because of the Faroese metal band Tyr, who recorded a version of the song called Sinklar's Visa.

 

[Silvester]

I'll hijack your thread for this one post, Stybar!



Very infamous, however little known in the Balkans is the Battle of Karánsebes/Caransebeș, which happened in Austrian Transylvania during the Austro-Ottoman War in the 18th century. An army of 100.000 was moving from Austrian territories towards the Ottoman frontline. They set up shop at Karánsebes on their way, while the army's vanguard, a contingent of hussars, crossed the nearby river to scout for the presence of the Turks.

There was no sign of the Mahomedans but of a much enticing group. Alles Erdreich ist Österreich untertan, until the real lords of the realm show up: the local gypsy schnapps merchants, who were happy to see a new target market right at their front door. Soon afterwards, the infantry crossed the river: sparking a debate on how the alcohol should be shared between their groups. The hussars refused to share any of their cheap schnapps and while still drunk built up fortifications around the barrels. As the debate got heated, one soldier fired a shot.

Immediately, the hussars and infantry engaged in combat with eachother. Not long after, one of the infantry started shouting "Turci! Turci!". The hussars fled the scene, believing that the Ottomans' attack was imminent. The infantry shortly abandoned the camp as well. Unfortunately, the Austrian army was made up from soldiers of all stocks: northern Italian, German, Hungarian, Slovak, Romanian, leading to a series of misunderstandings that ended in a desperate attempt of one of the Austrian officers to calm the riot.

As he shouted "Halt, Halt!" the riot intensified, as the non-German-speaking officers thought they were hearing Turks shouting the name of Allah. As the cavalry ran through the camps, a corps commander reasoned that it was a cavalry charge by the Ottoman army and ordered artillery fire. Meanwhile, the entire camp awoke at the sound of fire and shortly fled the scene, proving that the French are not the only - even if mistakenly thought - masters of medieval retreat.

The troops were firing at every shadow, believing the Ottomans had surrounded them; in reality, they were shooting their own. The whole army retreated from an imaginary enemy and Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II was pushed off his horse into a small creek.[citation needed]

Two days later, the Ottomans arrived. They discovered dead and wounded soldiers and took Caransebeș without a hitch.

 

[Stybar]

Alright, let's get back to it.
Julie d'Aubigny is a more badass bitch than you'll ever be in your sorry ass life. She died at 33, but goddamn if she didn't fill those 3 decades with pure, unadulterated, fun.

She was born as the only daughter of a secretary of the Master Of Horses for King Louis XIV. Basically, she grew up among the pages of the royal court. This meant she was taught all kinds of manly shit, like reading, drawing, dancing (it was France), and most importantly, fencing. She also continuously dressed as a boy, wearing trousers instead of dresses.

But, she was a woman after all, and it being a slightly less woman-friendly era, she was married off to some rich old dude. Old dude moved away to the south of France shortly after the wedding, however, and Julie was left behind in France.

This was not a very smart move, as she almost immediately started messing about with a fencing teacher. He was a real bad boy, having killed a man in an illegal duel on the streets of Paris. The police tried to apprehend him, but he convinced Julie to leave with him, and the two quickly left Paris, and fled to Marseille.

On their way there, they made money by showing off their fencing skills, and singing in taverns. Also of note, is that Julie was so fucking badass, she kept on dressing like a dude, despite not hiding her gender. Pants were more comfortable, I guess.
Julie's singing was so good, that upon arrival in Marseille, she joined the local opera, and started performing under her maiden name.

Eventually, she grew bored of her fencing plaything and his sword, and started liking the sheath more. She got into the lesbian side of life, and started an affair with a young woman in Marseille. The poor girl's parents didn't like their daughter going full lesbo, however, and kicked her into a convent to "repent". Julie didn't take it lightly, and snuck into the convent as well, to get her GF back (how romantic). She took a body of a recently deceased nun, put it in the (probably recently used) bed of her lover, and set fire to the entire fucking building. Their little fling lasted for 3 more months before the lover finally had enough of Julie's awesome ways, and went back to her family (with probably very awkward dinners).

Julie, now enjoying the single life again, made her way back to Paris, earning money with her singing along the way.
She was in Villeperdue, when she was insulted by a young nobleman, probably because she was still wearing men's clothing. Of course, in those days, insulting someone usually ended with a duel, and so she stabbed him in the fucking shoulder.

Now, this is bound to make a man think, and so the guy, who turned out to be Louis-Joseph d'Albert Luynes, son of the Duke of Luynes, sent his apologies to Julie. Julie accepted, went to visit Louis in his room, and they immediately started bangin'. Well, probably not immediately, the dude still had a fucking stab wound (that she gave him), but you never know.

Their fling didn't last long though, as Louis had to go back to active military duty. Julie head on, continuing to Paris. Underway, she hooked up with another singer in Rouen, and together they wanted to join the Paris Opera.
However, because of her shenanigans, she had a bit of an issue with the law: they wanted her to fucking burn.
She contacted her father's old boss, the Master of Horses, who pleaded with the king to grant her pardon. The king agreed, and Julie was allowed to sing with the Opera.

Her time with the Opera was wild. She sang in Paris and in Brussels, her "beautiful voice" drawing people from far and wide. Behind the scenes, however, stuff wasn't all roses. One of the singers, Louis Dumesny, was a bit of a dick, and kept harassing the female singers. Julie didn't take this lightly, and beat the shit out of him. Her lover, who joined the Opera as well, had a sharp tongue, but not sharper than hers. Their battle of wits were the talk of the city. She eventually fell in love with Fanchon Moreau, another female singer at the Opera. Fanchon didn't really like the idea of the whole "gay" stuff, and rejected her. Julie was so distressed, she tried to kill herself.

Her singing career took a bit of a nosedive, after she seduced and kissed a young woman at a ball, and three jealous noblemen all challenged her to a duel. She fucked them all up, breaking the King's decree that made duels in Paris illegal. Having to flee for the law again, she went to Brussels, where she had some affairs and sang in the Opera as well (really, her life was all fuckin', fightin' and singin').

Eventually she was able to get back into Paris, where she didn't get into any real trouble anymore. She beat up her landlord though, and helped her buddy Louis hide after he killed a man in an illegal duel as well (Julie had a thing for men who killed, I guess). She kept on singing in the Paris Opera, even performing at Versailles.

In her final years, she fell in love with a noblewoman, and they lived in a happy relationship for 3 years. Unfortunately, her love died in 1705, after which Julie was inconsolable. She finally went in a convent (probably not mentioning the whole convent she previously burned to the ground), where she died at the age of 33.

So there you have it. At the age of 33, Julie moved twice, got married (well, forced, but still), and started more affairs and fights than most of us do in our entire lives. She was an amazing singer, a pretty good swordswoman, and clearly, a damn good lover.

 

[Mave]

Some people claim Ferdinand swatted the explosive aside himself, others claim it simply bounced off the car, without detonating.

Leaning more towards the latter.

In a last attempt to kill himself, he jumped into the river to drown himself, but he managed to jump in a part of the river which was only 20cm deep...

Talk about bad luck..

Small problem though: his car didn't have a reverse gear... So they started pushing the car backwards through the narrow street, slowly.

Had no idea some old cars didn't have a reverse gear. Nowadays only really high performance race cars lack one.

However, on the street they were turning in, there was a small bakery. A bakery that was visited by... Gavrilo Princip.

They really should make a new, good movie about this.

 

[Stybar]

Alright, the story of the 77th division, AKA The Liberty division, or "The Lost Battalion"

The 77th were called The Liberty division because of their shoulder patch, which featured the Statue of Liberty. They are called The Lost Battalion because they got royally fucked during WWI.

Their job was pretty simple: they were to push back the German forces, with the aid of another US division on their right flank, and French forces on their left. It started out pretty good, but then their allied units on their flanks got stalled. And news of this never reached the 77th.
Still believing they had allied support on their flanks, they pushed further into enemy lines, which caused them to suddenly be completely surrounded by German troops. They dug in, and for the next 6 days, they fought off German attacks, while suffering heavy losses.
Food was scarce. Water was scarce. Ammo was running out. And to top it all off, they were bombarded not only by the German artillery, but also their own. Supplies were dropped for them, but the Germans sneakily replicated the target the Allied pilots were aiming for. So, the supplies meant for the 77th, were dropped upon the German troops, who happily accepted the drops.

Their only way of communicating was with carrier pigeons. They tried to use runners, but all of them got captured or shot by the German forces. One infamous incident was on the 4th of October. Wrong coordinates were given to their support, who started firing immediately - on their own troops. Eventually, they managed to send another pigeon, called Cher Ami, with the message:

WE ARE ALONG THE ROAD PARALLEL 276.4. OUR ARTILLERY IS DROPPING A BARRAGE DIRECTLY ON US. FOR HEAVENS SAKE STOP IT.

Despite all of this, they managed to keep fighting for 6 days, causing enough of a distraction that other Allied forces were able to move in and break through the enemy lines, rescuing the 77th. This rescue maneuver including the legendary "Big Red One", the 1st Infantry Division.
But while the US command was determined to save the 77th, the German command was determined to break it. They send in elite battalion of Storm Troopers, equipped with flame throwers, to wipe them out, but the 77th held strong, and defended its position. This, combined with the now advancing Allied forces eager to save their lost brothers, caused the rescue of The Lost Battalion.

Of the 500 men who marched into the forest, 194 came back. Others were either killed, captured, or wounded. Their commanding officer, Major Charles Whittlesey, was promptly promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, and given a Medal of Honor.

 

[Mave]

because they got royally fucked during WWI.

Meh, how bad can it be?

They send in elite battalion of Storm Troopers, equipped with flame throwers

Oh dear God.

 

[Stybar]

I realize I made it sound like Darth fucking Vader and some of his goons roll up to blast these poor souls to death, but no, no Imperial March played on the battlefield.
German Storm Troopers (Stoßtruppen) were highly trained, highly armored forces, designed to rush in, and shock the enemy with incredible firepower. They were the answer to the increasingly tedious (and agonizing) trench warfare.

 

[Mave]

I realize I made it sound like Darth fucking Vader and some of his goons roll up to blast these poor souls to death, but no, no Imperial March played on the battlefield.
German Storm Troopers (Stoßtruppen) were highly trained, highly armored forces, designed to rush in, and shock the enemy with incredible firepower. They were the answer to the increasingly tedious (and agonizing) trench warfare.

And here are some photos since I had to see what they looked like:

 

[Stybar]

A quicky, from recent history!

In 1970, in the town of Florence, Oregon, a tragedy occured. A massive sperm whale carcass washed up on the local beach, which was quite the attraction for the inhabitants of the sleepy town. There was, however, a problem. The carcass was starting to rot, and it stank. Like, really, really badly. So, the government stepped in, with a plan to remove this massive pile of smelly, decaying flesh.

They had a few ideas. First would be to let nature run its course, and let the carcass be eaten by scavengers, like gulls and crabs and the like. But, a whale carcass is big. Seriously, look up "whalefall", it's a phenomenon where when a whale dies, its corpse can feed a complete ecosystem for decades. Obviously, letting a few tons of rotting meat lying around on a nice beach is bound to be bad for tourism.

The second idea was to cut up the remains, and to bury each part individually. This would help most of the issues the locals had, namely the aforementioned stench, while it could still be easily eaten by scavengers. However, this would be a pretty gruesome task, and finding a crew to do this would not be easy, nor pleasant.

So, they went with option number 3: blow it the fuck up. The logic behind it is solid: blow the remains up, so it can spread across a wider area in smaller chunks. Thus, scavengers can more easily eat the remains, which would result in a quicker, more efficient cleanup.

So, they called in a crew certified to work with explosives: a company usually tasked with building... highways. They rolled up, under charge of George Thornton. They took note of the situation, and then came back with HALF A TONNE OF DYNAMITE. For people who don't know how much this is, this is equivalent to a fucking Tomahawk cruise missile. It's a lot of kaboom.
Experts immediately started criticizing this decision, most of them saying 2 or 3 strategically placed sticks would be enough. But nope. George knew better, and he was bent on using 500Kg of the stuff.

A few days later, the day of reckoning was there. A group of onlookers arrived, about 75 people came to see the final moments of one of the ocean's gentle giants. Or its remains, anyway. However, it became quickly apparent that this would not only be a spectacle for the eyes, but for the nose as well.
I said that experts claimed that 500kg was way to much dynamite, right? Well, whaddaya know, they were right! As the crew detonated the carcass, bits of whale where flung as far as half a kilometer away. And I'm talking big chunks, too. One chunk even managed to land on a car parked nearby, completely crushing it. The rest... Well, the onlooking crowd were completely covered in remains. The smell was horrible. People fled to their homes, unable to escape the wretched stench.

The end result? Instead of a whale neatly blown into smaller bits that gulls and crabs could eat, they now had a beach that was covered in whale. Better yet, the main part of the carcass was still intact: the explosion had only managed to blow a massive hole, so to speak, but the largest part was still in its original place. Their plan to let the carcass be eaten failed miserably, and in the end, they still had to cut it up, take the individual pieces of whale, and bury them.

It really needs to be seen to know how fucking horrible it was. This video is not a clip directly, but instead it's a show about the reporter who was covering the event. It does, however, have all the original footage.

 

[Mave]

I missed these! Interesting story, I had to Google whalefall.

equivalent to a fucking Tomahawk cruise missile

The beginning video credits made me laugh as well: BROUGHT TO YOU BY THEEXPLODINGWHALE.COM
And then the explosion happens and it's all one giant red mist. Damn.

Great story Sty, thanks for sharing!