This is definitely my favourite military book of this year so far. It's epic in its scope and execution. Written by a 40 year old reenactor and scholar. The author has already had books published in Russian but this is a first for him in English and they have pulled out all the stops and made a top rated study. Pages of colour paintings by N. Zubkov, colour flag pictures, original uniforms, period illustrations and reenactor photographs make this a profusely illustrated work. This is simply the definitive English language book on the Russian army in the Great Northern War. It's a very in-depth book but then the author has been studying the subject for a very long time and it shows. Ships and Galleys as well as Siegecraft are investigated along with many other topics like uniforms and weapons. Definitely a feather in the cap for the publishers Helion as this is a quality item. The publishers have a Swedish companion out later and if it's anything as good as this expect a great surge of interest in the Great Northern War. Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in Russia's army and history.
Phillipsburg 1734 Voltaire wrote a poem about the camp IN CAMP BEFORE PHILIPPSBURG, JULY 3, 1734 by: Voltaire (François Marie Arouet, 1694-1778)
WITHOUT a bed we now sleep sound And take our meals upon the ground; And though the blazing atmosphere Must dreadful to the eye appear, The air though roaring cannons rend While warriors with fierce rage contend, The thoughtless French drink, laugh, and sing, And with their mirth the heavens ring; The walls of Philippsburg shall burn, And all her towers to ashes turn By fifty thousand Alexanders, Who all deserve to be commanders, Though they receive the paltry pay Of only four poor sous a day. Lavish of life, with high delight I see them rushing to the fight; They all appear both gay and jolly, Quite covered o'er with fame and folly. The Phantom, which we Glory name, Spurs them to the pursuit of fame; With threat'ning eye, and front all o'er Bedusted, marching still before, She holds a trumpet in her hand To sound to arms, and cheer the band, And loudly sings, with voice sonorous, Catches, which they repeat in chorus. Oh! people brilliant, gay, and vain, Who drag with patience glory's chain, 'Tis great, an honorable grave To seek, Eugene and death to brave. But what will be your mighty prize? What from your prowess will arise? Regret your blood, in vain you spilt it; At Paris cuckolded, or jilted.