The Battle of Tours: The Most Important Battle in World History

Martel.

FORWARD

History, for many, is anything that occurred before we were born. Sadly, for those that think this way, life has some powerful and often-painful punishments in store.

We want to take the reader back some 1400 years into what must seem a dark and distant period, one totally irrelevant to the present time. Of course, we all must, and indeed, have no choice, but to live in our own short span of time. We however, do learn from history even if that history is of only a very few years. As children, we learn that the stove is hot and we learn not to play in the snow without warm clothes. We carry all the lessons of childhood into adulthood. To argue therefore that the lessons of the past are therefore of no benefit in the modern day is dangerous and fallacious in the extreme.

The question is, how far back in history should one go as regards the value of what has gone before. Do we need to know and heed the lessons of the Neanderthal to navigate through modern life? Probably not.

I would argue however, that once man begun collecting in towns and cities and, as early civilizations evolved, especially as one group warred on another, the lessons of these days are of great import and need be learned well. The advice and wisdom of such as Plato and Socrates are obviously of value and, of course, especially to be noted are the rise and fall of the great civilizations and nations.

Man’s history is replete with stories of war and conflict. Only the dullest of the dull would ignore the lessons that have been passed on to us. For one to navigate the perils of modern life and have the acumen to make true and correct judgments as regards the best way forward and, to comprehend the value of things in general, a reasonable knowledge of what has gone before is necessary.

My experience tells me that a beginning at the dawn of recorded history is more than sufficient for one to have the tools and knowledge to make correct judgments. In this book we will tell you about the greatest and most important battle ever fought by western civilization, who fought, why they fought and who won. The very fact that you’re reading this in English is a direct result of the outcome of that battle, further, we will show you that everything of importance in your life today is linked to what happened in those distant days.

We will show you why that battle mattered at that time and explain to you why it matters today. We will show you that the very same enemy who fought against western civilization 40 generations ago remains, until this very day, your most devoted enemy; one who would instantly, given the slightest opportunity, slice the head from your living body, an enemy who lives only to kill you and your entire family, an enemy who is doing everything possible to destroy western civilization.

I hope that these words frighten you and make you think of the consequences should you take the message of this book lightly. The history we are speaking of here is not just a story of something that happened long ago - not a book to be cast onto a distant shelf, to molder on a dim stack in some forgotten library, this is living history. Learn it well and heed the warning, while you still have time.

J.C Scott,

Jamacia, 2011

Chapter 1: THE BATTLE OF TOURS

SETTING THE STAGE FOR ETERNAL HATRED AND WARFARE

Whoever seeks other than Islam as his religion, it will not be accepted from him, and in the hereafter he will be with the losers "Slay the idolaters and non-Muslims wherever ye find them, and take them captive, and besiege them, and prepare for them each ambush. 3:85

Few battles are remembered 1,000 years after they are fought...but the Battle of Poitiers, (Tours) is an exception...Charles Martel turned back a Muslim army that, had it been allowed to continue, might have conquered Gaul. Michael Grant, author of History of Rome, grants the Battle of Tours such importance that he lists it in the macro-historical dates of the Roman era.

Matthew Bennett and his co-authors of Fighting Techniques of the Medieval World, published in 2005

Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi, the Muslim general of the Islamic army that had defiled Europeon lands, awoke in France at dawn on the cold and rainy morning of October tenth in the year 732. He was about five miles from where the city of Tours is situated today. A dozen camp dogs were barking outside his tent, horses were neighing and his Umayyad army* was up and about. Abdul had slept badly this night and was in a surly mood. This was the final day of battle against a dangerous and clever foe, one he had not dared to contemplate.

He had lived forty two years and today was to be his last day on this earth. He washed, said his morning prayers and, rearing his posterior toward the sky while pressing his face into a small prayer rug, asked Allah for victory and begged his indulgence for not killing more of the infidels. Abdul, now refreshed with fanatic zeal, drank his morning tea and, meeting with his commanders, discussed the day ahead.

At eight that morning he ordered four of his guards beheaded for allowing the escape of enemy prisoners. Sometime in the night a band of Infidels had managed to infiltrate past his sentries, slicing the necks of many of his soldiers and releasing over two hundred of their compatriots. This had never happened before. Rahman was beyond furious.

* The Umayyad Caliphate (Arabic: ( Banu Umayyah) was the second of the four Islamic caliphates established after the death of Mohammed. It was ruled by the Umayyad dynasty, whose name derives from Umayya ibn Abd Shams, the great-grandfather of the first Umayyad caliph. Although the Umayyad family originally came from the city of Mecca, Damascus was the capital of their Caliphate. Eventually, it would cover more than five million square miles, making it one of the largest empires the world had yet seen, and the fifth largest contiguous empire ever to exist. After the Umayyads were overthrown by the Abbasid Caliphate, they fled across North Africa to Al-Andalus, where they established the Caliphate of Córdoba, ( Spain) which lasted until 1031.

At the outset of the battle Abdul and his advance forces had marched north toward the River Loire having outpaced their supply train and a large part of their army. They had easily destroyed all resistance in that part of what was then called Gaul. Abdul had ordered his army to split off into several raiding parties, while the main body advanced more slowly.

This Umayyad attack into France was late in the year because the men and horses needed to live off the land as they advanced. They were forced to wait until the local peasants wheat harvest was ready and then until a reasonable amount of it had been threshed (slowly by hand with flails) and stored- the further north, the later the harvest. While the men killed farm livestock for food, horses need grain and thirty thousand horses need a lot of grain! Letting them graze each day takes too long, and ‘interrogating’ natives to find where food stores are hidden doesn’t work well because, with their food gone, the people starve.

Abdul’s forage teams however knew a thing or two about how to get the locals to talk. Jean Miserve, a strapping young farmer in his early twenties, was, this frosty morning, not disposed to cooperate with the heathens. Immediately, the unbeliever, was set upon by several Muslims, tied and dragged over rocks and dirt by horseback for several minutes. Sunned and bloody, he was summarily beheaded in front of his family and the rest of the village. His wife was dragged off raped and slaughtered but, not before her two children were sliced open in front of her and the entire village by the murderous Muslims.

The remaining Europeans quickly opened the straw roofed stone buildings where dozens of bags of grain had been hidden. The Muslims brought up carts, loaded the bags and then turned on the locals, killing them to a man, woman and child. This behavior was typical of the Islamic armies when dealing with the un-human, barbaric Infidels. There was no reason to leave them alive; after all, it was a mercy killing. It was too late in the year for another harvest so they would starve anyway.

How did Abdul get to this place? In 730, the Caliph, Hisham ibn Abd al-Malik, appointed Abdul Rahman as emir (governor/commander) of Al Andalus. This was an early name for Spain which at that time have been ruled by the Muslims for about 20 years.

Abdul prepared to invade France, calling for recruits from Yemen and the Levant. Many arrived, and he crossed the Pyrenees range with an army of approximately 60,000 cavalry composed primarily of Arabs and Berbers.

He made his way through Gascony and Aquitaine. According to one unidentified Arab, That army went through all places like a desolating storm, sacking and capturing the city of Bordeaux, after defeating Duke Odo of Aquitaine in battle outside the city, and then again, defeating a second army of Duke Odo’s at the Battle of the River Garonne where the western chroniclers state, God alone knows the number of the slain.

Odo, with his remaining army, fled north to Charles Martel, seeking help. Unlike Toulouse, in 721, a battle Odo had won by achieving complete surprise over the Muslim forces when he saved the city, this time, his forces faced the Muslim cavalry in open battle and were utterly destroyed.

The Muslim forces he had faced earlier at the Battle of Toulouse were primarily light infantry, and, while good fighters were not remotely close to the caliber of the Arab and Berber cavalry brought by Abdul on this invasion. After Al Samh ibn Malik was killed at the Battle of Toulouse by Odo, Abdul took over the command of Eastern Spain. He was briefly relieved of his command, when 'Anbasa ibn Suhaym Al-Kalbi was appointed in 721 however, Anbasa was killed in battle in 726 and Abdul again wound up with the army.

The Frankish General, Charles Martel, had a core of seasoned professional infantry who had campaigned with him for many years. His army of Gauls and Germans numbered approximately 30,000.

The invading Islamic forces, had no reason to believe the Franks were anything more than one of the barbarian tribes that had ravaged Europe after Rome's fall and failed to properly sus out their strength. They also badly misjudged Charles Martel, an intelligent and battle hardened veteran, determined to prevent the expansion of the fanatical, crazed Muslims into the heart of Christian Europe. This failure to know the enemy was a disastrous mistake, which led to the defeat and death of Abdul Rahman.

The commander of the Muslims moved northward through Spain using Islamic tactics developed early on by the murderous Prophet Mohammed in his bloody conquering of North Africa and the Persian Empire. Rahman was most certainly too confident, thinking the enemy was made up of disorganized rabble that could not possibly stand in his way. His aim was to destroy all resistance, murder, plunder and enslave his enemies. The destruction of Christianity was a major aim of the Muslim expansion into Europe as it was everywhere they found any faith other than their own distorted flypaper belief system.

However, thank God, Charles Martel was not an ordinary individual. He had carefully studied Muslim tactics and strategy. Martel was a professional soldier and had spent his life learning the arts of war. He understood the value of training and the advantages of having professional soldiers. He paid his men regularly from funds expropriated from the Church.

Martel recruited soldiers who had fought the Muslims in Spain to teach him more about the rampaging barbaric Islamic forces. He understood that the Roman fighting square (phalanx) was a way to defeat mounted forces. He understood the importance of surprise and the advantages of terrain. He planed the killing grounds of Tours carefully, forcing the Muslims to fight him on a place of his choosing.*

In Gallic times the city was important as a crossing point of the Loire. Becoming part of the Roman Empire during the first century AD, the city was named Caesarodunum (Hill of Caesar). The name evolved in the 4th century when the original Gallic name, Turones, became first Civitas Turonum then Tours which name it retains until today. Remarkably, there’s nothing much to mark the spot where all of western civilization was saved- except the small memorial, seen below.

View looking south toward the Muslim positions.

Chapter 2: The Battle Begins

It is not for any Prophet to have captives until he has made slaughter in the land. - 8:67

Rahman was indeed taken by surprise to find a large force opposing his anticipated sack of Tours. He waited for six days, skirmishing with the enemy and summoning all his raiding parties so his army was at its full strength for the battle.

Emir Abdul Rahman did not like the unknown and he particularly didn’t like charging uphill against an unknown number of foes who seemed too well disciplined and too well disposed for battle. The October weather was also a factor. The Germanic Franks, in their wolf and bear pelts, were used to the cold and, despite not having tents, which the Muslims did, were prepared to wait as long as needed; the autumn weather was only growing colder. The typical Frankish soldier was well insulated from the cold, wearing about 75 pounds of leather and wooden armor along with the pelts of animals.

Martel, moving his army over the mountains, had avoided the old Roman roads, and managed to escape detection until positioning his men on a high, wooded plain to the north of the Muslims. For seven days, the two armies skirmished and maneuvered. The Islamic forces had recalled their raiding parties and, by the seventh day, their army was at full size.

Martel also received additional men boosting his forces up to about thirty thousand. Historians agree that he was outnumbered by two to one. The Franks held their formations and repulsed repeated Islamic cavalry charges. The Arabs were slowed, impeded by the terrain and surprised at the ferocity and professionalism of the Franks.

Early European accounts of the battle are, at best, vague. In those days only a very few were literate so, what has survived is somewhat sketchy. The Arab accounts however are fairly detailed in describing how the Franks formed large squares and fought a brilliant defensive battle. Rahman himself had doubts that his men were ready for such a fight but, with the hubris that often infects the minds of religious zealots, decided to trust his horsemen. In those days, it was thought impossible for infantry of that age to withstand a truly inspired armored cavalry. Martel however had trained his men to stand firm against a force, which vastly outnumbered them. This was to be one of the rare instances where medieval infantry stood up against cavalry charges.

Martel’s forces were, as we mentioned, arranged in fighting squares called a phalanx. The field of battle was on the order of a mile east to west. The Franks formed into units, each numbering approximately five hundred men. The Frankish lines consisted of sixty of these squares, each forming a frontal line of about three hundred feet, allowing each man to defend each adjacent man with three feet of separation. Overall, Martel’s army extended from east to west almost two thousand feet with each square protecting the next.

The Franks, in the first two lines, held fifteen-foot metal tipped javelins, the butts planted into the ground. In the middle of each phalanx’s were two hundred archers firing long heavy metal tipped arrows. Each man also carried a broad sword and dagger and all had large metal shields. Each fighting square had a Captain and several junior and non-commissioned officers. There were runners assigned to each fighting group and each had a series of signal and unit flags for identification and communication. All were in close contact with the generals and Martel. Military operations in these days were well organized and carefully planned.

The Arab Horses naturally shied away from these frightening defenses. Training a horse to attack such a defense is difficult as the animal’s natural reaction is to shy away at the last minute, generally tossing his rider. Those few who crashed into the Frankish lines were impaled and their riders slaughtered by Frankish swords. The Franks were professional soldiers and veterans of many campaigns. Man for man, the Franks were comparatively large, rough and strong men easily able to bodily pick up and throw the smaller Muslims soldiers. The Frankish broadswords, swung by these powerful men, easily sliced through Muslim amour.

The fanatical Muslims attacked and skirmished repeatedly along Martel’s lines of defense but, nowhere were they successful. Abdul was testing the Frankish lines and was amazed that they were so powerful and steadfast.

Fighting in these days was very much a personal thing. The enemy was eye to eye when you either killed him or were killed. The screaming of the wounded and the anger of the fighters was horrible. This cacophony, augmented by the pounding and thundering hooves of the Arab horses created a very different battlefield from those of modern warfare. In 732, guns were not yet in use. It would be another seven hundred years before gunpowder was introduced into warfare in Europe.

The sight of thirty thousand determined huge men covered in fur and armor standing fast with huge metal tipped spears was frightening to the Islamic fighters. They were used to opposing forces running in fear where they could easily ride them down- such was not the case at Tours.

The Franks were furiously and voraciously yelling and jeering, calling the Muslims cowards, rag-heads and insulting their precious Allah in the most profane ways. The Arabs didn’t understand the words but most certainly got the message. These fierce men were not frightened of them at all. The Frankish language in 732 was a form of Low German that managed to survive in Gaul (France) until about the middle of the 7th century A.D. before being slowly replaced by old French.

The Frankish soldiers were, on average, twenty to thirty years of age. Most were about five and a half feet tall but a few were over six feet. They had powerful physiques, large arms and thick strong wrists. They could easily pick up two hundred pounds in either hand and march for days on their muscled legs. The men of the 7th century had no cars, bicycles or busses, wherever they wanted to go they walked, ran or, a lucky few, rode horses.

Compared to men of today, these guys were stronger with far greater endurance. Most had been fighting professionally for ten or more years. Many had been wounded and understood the risks and pain of battle. They had all killed many times and knew well the smell of blood and the look in the eyes of defeated and dying enemies. There were few rear elechion personnel in the medieval armies, what in Vietnam were called REMF’s. (rear elechion mother-fuckers)

Two of Martel’s men had fought together for many years. John Hacard and Jacque Berthar. John was over six feet tall and 200 pounds while Jacque, who was the same height, was heaver at 250 pounds. Both men were stocky and well muscled with wide shoulders and thick necks. They both had the ruddy complexions of outdoor men and shaggy blonde hair almost bleached white by exposure.

Today, near the top of the rise where the battle was fought, one can see a smooth time worn rock marred by the many initials of children. There too, if one looks closely, one might find (JB), the initials of Jacque Berthar, scratched there so many centuries ago. Like many of his day, he wrote in runes. With time heavy on his hands he had inscribed his initials, to leave his mark, saying to all who might see them, that I was here, therefore I was, even though, after a long time there may be nobody left who especially cares whether I was or was not.

On this, the last day of the battle, Jacque and John Hacard were, as usual, found paired in the front lines armed, as all one hundred men in the first two lines, with the forty pound fifteen foot metal tipped lances. It was the seventh day, and, as it was to turn out, the last day of the battle. The sun was rising over the eastern tree line and they could hear the rattling and snorting of the Arab horsemen assembling below their

position, readying for a charge.

Hacard and Jacque were standing on the crest of a hill that dropped gently some three hundred feet to the floor of the valley below. The position, where they had been fighting for the past six days, was in the middle of Martel’s formations. They could see the fifteen squares of five hundred men to each side making up the thirty thousand man Frankish army. Martel himself was in their square as his flag and banner announced to the world.

The fanatical Muslims had been attacking Martel’s formation relentlessly since the battle began the preceding week. These small brown men attacked with precision swinging their curved swords and yelling with wild-eyed maniacal rage.

John and Jacque had spent the night resting in position, trying to find dry ground amidst the blood and gore from the previous days fighting. All of the squares had moved rearward a few feet to get off the bloody mud. The fighting squares were organized so that the man next to you slept while you remained awake and visa versa. Each man, by this method, got about four hours of rest.

The men were allowed to relieve themselves but only if accompanied by a few of their fellow soldiers. Men with water and food moved through the ranks throughout the night. The water boys remained during the day circulating through the ranks with great animal skins of cool water. One of the lesser-known facts of combat is that it tends to make the combatants terribly thirsty. No one has put forward a good reason for this but, there it is.

Jacque and Hacard could see the enemy perhaps a half-mile below. Their tents numbered in the tens of thousands and the smoke and smells from hundreds of campfires, along with the sounds of men and animals were carried on the morning breeze. To their rear was a heavy dense forest of hardwoods which kept the enemy from attacking from that direction.

The day before, a horse had broken past the first line by galloping up the hill and then across at an angle and jumping, at great speed, over the lances. The Islamic rider was ripped from his saddle and disappeared under the boots of the soldiers before he could do any harm. His horse was led, luckily without injury, to the rear of the square and handed over to the message runners. Jacque, stepping over the mangled corpse, grabbed its legs to toss it down the hill when he saw something shinning under the corpse’s clothing. He grabbed it, salvaging a remarkable jeweled dagger and scabbard which he stuck into his belt.

The grassy slope in front of them was wet with blood, long gray strands of guts, heads and other and body parts. The wounded Arabs had been ‘silenced’ in the night so nothing lived between the remaining Arab army and the fighting squares. Martel had brought several pigs from a neighboring villages to chow down on the dead and, after cooking up a few of swine for the morning meal, had soaked the men’s arrows, spears, and swords in pig blood while making announcements to the Muslims below, letting them see clearly what he was doing. He had learned long ago that the Muslims thought swine unclean and were mightily fearful of being tainted by their blood.

John Hacard and Jacque Bethar, along with many of the men in the squares, were chomping on large bloody pig parts and yelling epithets at the Arabs as they mounted their horses and readied for the first charge of the day. Between mouthfuls, John said, Jacque, do you see the big white horse under the fancy banner, I think that’s Rahman himself? If he heads my way, I’m going to get him. Ja, Jacque said, John that’s him himself. If you don’t get him I will.

The Muslims were terrified of these men. Abdul and his officers tired unsuccessfully for several days to encourage their men to press the attack. Time after time, the Muslims charged the Frankish lines, each time they were repulsed with heavy casualties. Many of the survivors rode back with the long arrows buried in their backs, arms, legs and horses.

In the middle of one of the attacks an Arab horse reared up with a dead Muslim still in the saddle. He had been shot through the head, with the arrow sticking through his eye and protruding two feet from the back of his skull. The horse was wheeling, whinnying and rearing in mad circles as the dead Arab fell back hauling the reins. The battle came to a halt while both sides watched this macabre spectacle. Finally, the confused horse managed to throw the dead wretch and galloped back to the Muslim lines.

That same day, groups of Arab horseman attacked the Frankish flanks, thinking that they wouldn’t face the long lances but, immediately, the phalanx shifted and the terrible pikes appeared like magic. The Franks had long practiced this method of warfare, learning it from the Roman legions hundreds of years before.

Killing in those days was a bloody mess, slicing off an arm or hand was common, as was severing the heads of the enemy. The amount of human blood pouring and pumping from these terrible wounds was astounding, covering and soaking both killer and killed, pooling on the cold ground, making slippery footing for defenders and attackers alike. Horses skidding in this wet pudding were unable to regain their footing, slamming their thousand pounds into the Frankish lines where the long lances penetrated them from end to end. Maddened and pain-crazed horses with broken spears buried in their bodies crashed and thrashed about the Arab lines disrupting the attacks.

On one occasion, a large grey Arab steed, with an entire lance piercing his neck, wheeled riderless and, screaming in pain, charged back into the advancing Arabs, the fifteen-foot lance knocking many from their horses.

On the day of the main battle, believing that their loot was being stolen, a large contingent of Rahman's forces broke away from battle. Rahman, who had been leading his men, as was the custom, was left exposed to superior Frankish forces.

John and Jacque Berthar, along with the entire five hundred men of their square, seeing that the frontal attack by the Arabs had failed, dropped their lances and bows and rushed forward with swords and hammers. Charles Martel, himself, riding a white magnificent captured Arab horse, charged into the fray, yelling in his distinctive basso profundo voice, NO QUARTER, NO QUARTER! KILL THEM ALL, KILL THEM ALL! Berthar, seeing Rahman on his horse directly in front of him, leapt up and, grabbing his belt, dragged the lighter man completely out of his saddle.

Rahman fell heavily smashing onto the cold ground, the air knocked completely out of him. Bethar, filled with killing rage and screaming Germanic war cries, brought his heavy hammer down on Rahman’s head with the full force of his 250-pound body and mighty right arm. The twenty-pound weapon smashed through Abdul’s helmet and head where it remained imbedded in the bones of his shoulder. So devastating was the blow, Abdul died instantly without a single final thought. He never made a sound. Jacque and John left him where he fell, continually pressing the counter attack killing many of the Arabs as they seemed dazed and disorganized after the death of their leader.

The battle was effectively over when Rahman fell. His forces began a confused retreat, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. It was past six that evening when the Franks finished smashing the heads of those still living Muslims scattered about the broad field. Many were playing possum, hoping to slither off after dark. No chance. The Frankish soldiers knew all about that ploy. They methodically speared each and every body, decapitating any who were still squirming or moaning.

Finished with that grisly task, having stripped each and every dead Muslim and carrying their booty, they reformed into their phalanx, resting through the night, thinking the battle would resume the following day. Instead, the Muslims were gone, stealing away in the night, leaving their tents and much of their equipment.

John and Jacque Berthar woke on the morning of the 11th of October, a quiet Saturday morning. The sun was shining and a warm breeze caressed the grisly field of death and destruction. Dead men and horses littered the area and the smells and flies were terrible.

The battle was over. The Arabs had left. Martel gave the order to pursue the retreating Muslims and to kill them all- leave not one to return. For the next three months, the Franks did just that, leaving the Muslim bones to lie in the fields and roads where they fell, Martel said, These are unclean Muslim pigs and they shall not be buried. Leave them for the dogs and vultures to gnaw and let all those who pass this way know these are Frankish lands…These are Christian lands!

Chapter 3: Analysis of the battle

The unbelievers are impure and their abode is hell. (another source: ) Humiliate the non-Muslims to such an extent that they surrender and pay tribute. 9:29

October 10, 732 AD marked the conclusion of the Battle of Tours, arguably one of the most important battles in all of history.

One reason for the defeat of the Muslim army was their concern for booty ripped from the dead hands and homes of the Frankish people they murdered as they made their bloody way north. Another problem was the squabbles between various ethnic and tribal factions, which led to the surviving generals being unable to agree on a single commander to take Abdul Rahman's place, (he alone had a Fatwa from the Caliph, and thus, absolute authority over the faithful under arms).

Because of deep political factions, rivalries and personality clashes, the varied nationalities and ethnicities present in Rahman’s army were unable to agree on a commander to lead on the following day. The effect of the death of Abdul Rahman on both Islamic and world history was to prove profound.

The inability to agree on anyone to lead contributed to the retreat of an army that, by numbers alone, could have and should have defeated the Franks. Reasons for this critical Muslim defeat are credited to Charles Martel. He trained his men to fight in a large square, similar to the ancient Greek phalanx formation so as to withstand the Muslim heavy cavalry. The Frankish leader chose the battlefield. He had the high ground and was able to hold it throughout the seven-day battle.

This was the most significant victory against the Muslims. Martel had stopped the tide of the fanatic Muslims from penetrating further into Europe. At Tours, Charles earned the sobriquet The Hammer for the merciless way he hammered the Muslims. He well understood what was at stake. He knew what the Muslims were all about and what their goals were. The stories from North Africa describing the treatment of infidels had reached the ears of the Franks long before the Islamic armies attacked Spain. The people of what was to become France were Christians, they knew well their fate if the Islamic hordes were to overrun their country. Martel prevailed because he understood that the future of Christianity was on the table. Losing was not an option!

Out of the thirty thousand odd Frankish soldiers, some two thousand had been wounded with over a thousand dying outright. The doctors did what they could for the casualties but, their worst enemy was infection and, in the end, many succumbed, most developing gas gangrene for which there was (and is today) no cure. The military surgeons of those days were quick to amputate limbs before the infections could advance. (Amputation remained the only option for battlefield surgeons through the American Civil war in 1860’s