Part 2 Pavel Ruzika led his small company of pioneers through the foothills of the Böhmerwald. He was nearing forty, a veteran of the Turkish wars. Skilled with sword and musket; besides his native Czech he could speak German, French, Hungarian, Italian and Latin. He had studied theology and law in his youth and had acquired skills in battlefield medicine. His woodcraft was second to none; he could track the spoor of animal or man through the woods. Despite his encroaching middle age, his powers of sight and hearing were undiminished. In short, Captain Ruzika was a reconnaissance man. Pavel had never intended to join the Bohemian rebellion. He had scorned the Protestant propaganda. Those silly woodcuts showing the archetypal Spanish soldier: swarthy, mustachioed and wearing the tall metal helmet; leering at the blond protestant maiden that he has tied to the railroad tracks. Such images had not swayed him; until his own son was locked in a Hussite chapel that had been set ablaze by Spínola's men. So now Pavel had taken up arms again; this time against his former Habsburg masters and joined by his two remaining sons. The Emperor considers his former servant a 'rebel' but Ruzika knows himself to be a true patriot. His company have reached their objective, the rail line between Pilsen and Prague. Two men wedge the keg of gunpowder in place under the railroad bridge while the rest place medium sized stones about the keg. A lookout calls that the train is approaching - unnecessarily in this case as the wind brings the sound of the baroque Austrian locomotive approaching. Pavel strikes his flint and tinder; Jesú be praised! it lights first time. He and his men retire.

Albert of Wallenstein is a Czech and a devout Catholic. He has placed his skills at the disposal of the most powerful coalition of his time. He is, if you like, the equivalent of the 20th century's Madeline Albright, only shorter. But unlike today's post-Harding civil servants, Wally is an entrepreneur. His Imperial Majesty cannot afford to raise another army; General Tilly's force absorbs all of Ferdinand II's revenues as well as the soon-to-be-discontinued subsidies from cousin Philip. Wally has an exciting proposal - he will raise a second Imperial army for free; all he asks in return is title to some captured Protestant lands and Imperial warrant to levy taxes while campaigning on enemy territory. Ferdinand readily agrees. Of course Wally doesn't just covet any lands. What he has his eye on is the lands near the major rail lines. When this lousy war is over and the railways are devoted to civilian use the value of such well-serviced land will go through the roof. Wally's is a cunning plan with only three drawbacks. Firstly, an army is not cheap. To avoid dipping into his own cash reserves, Wally must be careful to always campaign on lands hostile to his Imperial majesty. He must be always offensive. Fortunately this suits the Wallenstein personality. Secondly, even on enemy land he must keep moving. Once lands have been taxed and pillaged they need to be left fallow and fresh pickings found. Lengthy sieges are therefore financially crippling and must be avoided. Enemy cities must be discouraged from putting up prolonged resistance by whatever means necessary. Thirdly and lastly, peace must be avoided in the immediate future. It will take time to raise an army and then march it to enemy lands and then pillage. Until such time as the army gets to the booty they are building up an arrears of pay. An early peace means all start-up costs and no profit. However too long a war means diminishing returns from war-ravaged lands. Wallenstein calculates an optimum duration for the war - around thirty years. Thirty years is also enough time to persuade Vienna to build up an extensive network of 'military' railroads connecting Wallenstein's various estates. [To be continued]