The Bloat
Wolff has found himself back in the colours. With blade and long lance, on fully-caparisoned horse that is not a horse, he sits on a hilltop and gazes into the distance.
And there it is, as Chesterton puts it, 'like a fungus of a leprous white and grey'. It is the Bloat. Wolff remembers when a squad had one leader, and several squads a commander. The Romans had squads of ten men.
But at the Citadel these days are 265 who have been given rank, and of these, 90 have a higher rank. 90 out of 265. It is more than a third. It is as if out of every three, one is a leader.
Wolff shakes his head. He has looked at the banners of the Green Order, and for all their prayer and service, they have only one in four. It is the same elsewhere, perhaps as low as one in five or one in six. But at the Citadel, one in three.
He is reminded of the mighty Parkinson, who pointed out how the Admiralty of old swelled at the top even as the ships became smaller in size and the men became fewer in number. He too was based in Atlantis for a time and knew whereof he spake.
He remembers when the citadel was 1200 soldiers, with 80 knights, and among those, 20 of higher rank, who shared the work and tasks appointed unto all. Now it is 3000 soldiers, with 265 knights amongst which are 90 of higher rank.
How did this perversion come to be? It was all the fault of the Grand Inquisitor, Wolff decides, he who carefully scattered largesse around to secure his place, but not the Order. And hence the general incompetence, for if one needs not prowess at arms to win the prize, why should one aim for prowess?
90 in 265. Wolff laughs. The winnowing will not be a happy one.
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Note: The fictional adventures of Sir Wolff do provide much that is of interest. You can find them linked here. Just ignore the one about earwax. That was an accident.
And there it is, as Chesterton puts it, 'like a fungus of a leprous white and grey'. It is the Bloat. Wolff remembers when a squad had one leader, and several squads a commander. The Romans had squads of ten men.
But at the Citadel these days are 265 who have been given rank, and of these, 90 have a higher rank. 90 out of 265. It is more than a third. It is as if out of every three, one is a leader.
Wolff shakes his head. He has looked at the banners of the Green Order, and for all their prayer and service, they have only one in four. It is the same elsewhere, perhaps as low as one in five or one in six. But at the Citadel, one in three.
He is reminded of the mighty Parkinson, who pointed out how the Admiralty of old swelled at the top even as the ships became smaller in size and the men became fewer in number. He too was based in Atlantis for a time and knew whereof he spake.
He remembers when the citadel was 1200 soldiers, with 80 knights, and among those, 20 of higher rank, who shared the work and tasks appointed unto all. Now it is 3000 soldiers, with 265 knights amongst which are 90 of higher rank.
How did this perversion come to be? It was all the fault of the Grand Inquisitor, Wolff decides, he who carefully scattered largesse around to secure his place, but not the Order. And hence the general incompetence, for if one needs not prowess at arms to win the prize, why should one aim for prowess?
90 in 265. Wolff laughs. The winnowing will not be a happy one.
=====
Note: The fictional adventures of Sir Wolff do provide much that is of interest. You can find them linked here. Just ignore the one about earwax. That was an accident.
Labels: Statistics, Wolff
etched with acid at 9:35:00 am
3 Comments:
Remember, my friend - Iron, Cold Iron is the master of them all!
Good luck with the threshing.
Ah, Sir Albrecht! I have looked at your own order, and it looks fairly lean. 1600 soldiers, 120 knights and 30 of higher rank, roughly. Meanwhile, the Gryphon Order asserts 4500 soldiers on the Jade Mountain, with about 300 knights and 45 of higher rank.
Indeed! Yet, my quarrel with the Green Order is the paucity of members of the Sacred Brotherhood in the ranks of its Knights. Much has been lost, when the Brothers left. Though I must admit, many felt a greater need to serve elsewhere.
Sigh. Here I am, lamenting the loss of 'good ole days' like the miserable ancient that I am : )
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