The First Battle of Kofu- Spring 1545
We, the Takeda are famed throughout Japan for our horsemanship, and this fame is rightly deserved. Yet, we are more than this, and as I stare out onto this field I know, within my heart that we are here for a purpose, a purpose that will take our Clan further than any before us, that will take our Daimyo further than his forefathers, his allies and his rivals. We are here to become the rulers, it is our birth right and that it what we shall take. This is the beginning brothers, the Makami are our first, the first of many and they shall fall, like blossom at autumns onset, they shall find their way to their graves. This is the land of brothers, the land of your Daimyo. So let us take it back, now my brothers stand with me against the storm, and we shall find honour in death.
- Takeda Nobushige, spring 1545
A cloud of choking dust rose into the clear spring air, the sun was clouded by the thick haze sent up like smoke from a great beacon by the hooves of horse below. Swiftly the Takeda moved, their footsteps stamped the ground in unison, a pace dictated by the speed of the cavalry who had ridden ahead to assess the lie of the land.
Upon the brow of a hill stood the figure of Nobushige the general of the Takeda force. His face masked behind his helmet, his thoughts privy to none but his closest advisors. He surveyed his amassed force with a sense of pride, this was to be his first battle and his usually composed demeanour was replaced altogether with an almost childlike excitement. Raising a fist, he signalled to his Captains. Understanding the message they brought the men to an abrupt halt and ordered camp to be set and in a orderly fashion a large camp was soon erected by the soldiers.
The next morning dawned and the air was filled with a thick fog, which chilled even the hardiest of Samurai to his very core. The warriors of the Takeda performed almost ritualistically their morning routines and before long they had broken camp and once again set off on the twisting path that would lead them to their foe.
A lone rider approached the head of the column and swiftly made his way to the General. Sweat steamed off the back of his magnificent horse, hot from the mornings ride. He dismounted fluidly and prostrated himself before Nobushige, in his hands lay a message. The general took the paper out of the messengers hands, read it, and nodding to himself, slowly crushed it within his fist. They had struck, the Makami, upon the peaceful village of Kofu, his scouts had seen it with their own eyes, black smoke rising from burning embers, a pyre built for the innocent villagers who had fallen to the hands of the honourless dogs that were the Makami. A look of determination set in Nobushige's face, he stood silent for a moment before turning to his Captains, "I shall not rest until every last one of those traitorous dogs lie dead at my feet, we march now." he stated solemnly, his Captains nodded their heads, they had yet to see this side of their Commander and they were worried, a reckless commander could lead to the death of his own men, a reckless Commander was more of a danger than any enemy, and they prayed he would not always be so.
Over the following days the anger of the man did not diminish in any way, in fact with every mile it soon grew, along with a sense of impatience, where were there enemy? Where were the murderers?
His questions were soon to be answered though; his scouts returned, reporting that over the next hill they would find the force of the enemy. They were prepared, they had waited and now Nobushige had no choice but to fight. He had pushed his men on the march and they were weary, yet now he could not afford to let them rest, for in their rest they would be attacked and slaughtered by the very men they hunted. Nobushige cursed to himself, he had realised that in his quest for vengeance he had made a great mistake, one that could prove fatal. Yet, as always he was determined, and he would prove to all those who ever doubted him that he could, and that he indeed would win. For the honour of his people, himself and above all his clan.
The great battle line crested the brow of another hill, this time however they were met with the sight that they had yet to lay eyes upon. The sight of a foe. The enemy force lay at the head of the valley upon a large rocky outcrop, defiant against the larger Takeda force that came against them. The Front line composed of Yari Ashigaru and Yari Samurai, soon positioned themselves at the head of the column cut off any threat to the vanguard. Behind them stood the archers of the Takeda army, 120 Ashigaru sharpshooters armed with great bows, ready to bleed the life out of the enemy. Protecting the flanks rode the riders of the army, their horses stamping upon the soft ground. Nobushige glanced at the enemy force. They would not move from that hill, he thought to himself, there they have the height advantage and there they shall stay. He soon made up his mind though, raising one paddle he gestured to his horsemen, and waved it in a great ark towards the back of the enemy, and the horsemen complied with his order.
Without warning the cavalry veered off to the right, charging into the undergrowth, out of sight of both friend and foe, they carefully cut through the thick forest and galloped through the thick foliage. Branches whipped the faces of the cavalry yet they rode hard and were soon in position, behind the enemies flank, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Nobushige waited until he could postpone no more, raising his paddle again he swiftly ordered his army forward and with a silent professionalism they marched forth. They kept a steady line through the valley, the archers notched arrows into their bows as they walked forwards and with keen eyes looked for the mark that would tell them whether they were in range or not. Suddenly the line stopped a captain held his hand high in the air before gesturing to an archer who stood in the front rank, the Captain stared at the enemies line for a moment before nodding to the archer who swiftly held his bow high, drew the string and unleashed an arrow into the spring air. The arrow was in flight for what seemed like hours, but was really only moments, it arched through the air, before plummeting towards the amassed ranks of the enemies, suddenly a cry rang out, the arrow had pierced the chest of an enemy archer. Silence fell upon the battlefield, then suddenly all hell broke loose, the infantry charged forward, Yari held expertly within their hands, bravely towards the enemy they plummeted in a headlong rush, no man concerned for his wellbeing, everyman prepared to die for his honour. The archers started to rain arrows upon the heads of their enemies, most reached the target and holes appeared in the enemy ranks however some fell short, and every so often among the tall grass that covered the crest of the hill the body of a man dressed in the clothes of a soldier of the Takeda could be seen, a Spear in his hands, a cry of war on his lips, and an arrow embedded in his back.
With a sharp cry the enemy then responded, their soldiers who up til recently had stood stoically against the advance of the Takeda force and under the onslaught of arrows now took their turn to unleash havoc, as one their Bow Ashigaru, notched arrows into their bows and let forth stream after stream of missiles into the oncoming enemy charge, Takeda soldiers ran into their death, propelling themselves forward into the oncoming arrows, which sent many of them to crumpling into the ground.
The Samurai moved faster than the ashigaru, their rapid advance soon brought them into contact with the first of the enemy Yari Ahsigaru, their spears thrust into the bodies of the enemy, ending their lives in a spray of blood and a cry of pain.
Soon after the Takeda Ashigaru arrived bringing with them the numbers which the Takeda would need to win this battle. A vicious fight ensued, neither side conceded ground yet holes soon appeared in the Makami force, there General, in a moment of madness charged forth into the fray, his cavalry force bravely smashed into the enemy sending many a man flying into the air before jolting into the ground with a sickening thud, however there charge was short-lived and soon the spears of the Takeda had brought down many a horse. The Takeda, they were master horsemen, they were the best at dealing with horses and that experience lead them to know best how to kill horses. The poor beasts driven forward by their masters soon fell under an onslaught of spears. Soon the cavalry of the enemy was decimated, the ground became a churned mass of blood and gore, and soldiers slipped and never arose their mistake proving fatal, as the enemy force took advantage of their fall, spearing them where they lay.
From amongst the great battle rode two men, the enemy commander, a coward he charged back through his own archers, all that was left of the fated charge.
The enemy Ashigaru were proving no match for the numbers and superiority of the Takeda force, the Infantry fought bravely on though their cause was lost, a testament to themselves, many met an honourable death upon that field, their archers however still proved to be great marksman, Samurai and Ashigaru both friend and foe fell to the barrage that emitted from these archers, they did not care what the hit, as long as they hit something. Then the most famous of all Takedas's force struck, the Cavalry, in position behind the enemy line since the start of the battle now charged out. They galloped flat out the short distance between the tree line and the raging battle, and, before the archers had time to prepare, they smashed into their rear, sending men flying through the air, their spears pounded into the enemies backs, impaling them, instantly killing.
As one the archers turned and fled, they were beaten, but the cavalry were not finished with them yet. As the archers charged into the undergrowth, the cavalry charged after them, some turned to make a final honourable stand and were slain cleanly; others chose to run on hopelessly and were mown down, under the hooves of the horses, crushed into the thick grass.
The battle had reached its finale, even now the last of the enemy Yari ashigaru, stood their ground, weary and blood stained, one by one they fell.
Yet no man ran, no man routed, no man lost his honour, he stood like a man, and faced his death square in the eye, they took many a brave Takeda with them, but they would not surrender, and the Takeda would give no quarter anyway. Soon the last man emitted a final breath, and fell to his knees, blood poured from a wound in his stomach, and he knelt their swaying slowly, before collapsing into a crumpled heap. Silence fell, the sky turned red, the Sun set across the land and the Takeda had won, they were on their way to their goal and they had proven themselves to be worthy of such an ambition. |
A Red Sun Rising
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