Short Rounds

Improbable Wars: The Bloodless War, 1634-1635

In 1632 King Gustavus II Adolphus of Sweden  (r. 1611-1632) was killed in action at the Battle of Lutzen,  and was succeeded by his six year old daughter Christina (r. 1632–1654).  By coincidence, Gustavus' cousin Ladislas Vasa had ascended the Polish-Lithuanian throne at about the same time, as King and Grand Duke Ladislas IV (r. 1632-1648). 

Now there were several issues between the two branches of the Vasa clan, notably the fact that Gustavus' father had, in effect, usurped the throne of Sweden in 1599 from Ladislas' own father.  But a more important issue was that Sweden recently had acquired some lands in Prussia and Pomerania that had previously been fiefs of Poland-Lithuania. 

Since Gustavus’ death left Sweden time enmeshed in the Thirty Years' War, and having a hard time of it, Ladislas decided to grab what he could

Ladislas concentrated an army of some 24,000 men on the lower Vistula, and threatened Swedish possessions in Pomerania and Prussia, but did not actually invade these regions.  The Swedes, wisely decided to avoid fighting a two-front war, promptly concluded a 26-year armistice, and shortly began negotiations that resulted in the cessation of some territories to Poland.

An so Ladislas came away the victor in "The Bloodless War."

"What is That For?"

After a long career in the Royal Navy, Commander Edward Whitehead (1908–1978), became a rather noted celebrity, serving as a spokesman for Schweppes, of which he later became president, and for a time during the late 1950s and early 1960s even hosted a program about British art and culture on WQXR radio in New York.  During his hitch on the radio, Whitehead would often tell tales of his travels or his years afloat in His Majesty’s service, which included a tour with the British Pacific Fleet in the final year of the Second World War, and culminated with a hitch as an aide-de-camp to George VI (r. 1936-1952), during which he accompanied the king on a long voyage to and tour of South Africa in 1947.

The first state visit by the royal family since their tour of the United States on the eve of World War II in 1939 (during which F.D.R. had insisted on calling the king and queen "George" and "Elizabeth"), the trip had several goals.  The primary goal was to cement Commonwealth ties, which had a political dimension, since South Africa's Prime Minister Ian Smuts was facing a rising tide of right-wing Boer nationalism that would culminate the following year in the imposition of the apartheid regime that would endure for half-a-century.  Then too, the trip, aboard the new battleship HMS Vanguard, would serve to introduce Princess Elizabeth, then just 21, to some of her future subjects, and would also provide the king with a restful holiday, his health having deteriorated during World War II.

Now George VI was the last of the "Sailor Kings", of six sovereigns who had sat the throne since 1830, with the accession of William IV (r., 1830-1837), only Queen Victoria (r. 1837-1901), and George's brother Edward VIII, who had reigned for less than a year, had not seen serious service in the Royal Navy.  After attending the Royal Navy Colleges at Osbourne and Darmouth, George had been commissioned a midshipman in 1913, saw wartime service with the Grand Fleet in the North Sea, most notably as a turret office in the battleship Collingwood during the Battle of Jutland, before transferring to the Royal Naval Air Service, and later serving in the newly formed Royal Air Force.  So the king knew a thing or two about warships, and greatly enjoyed exploring his newest and mightiest battlewagon; ordered during World War II, Vanguard had not been completed until mid-1946.

One evening, while strolling around the quarterdeck (the stern section of the ship's deck, traditionally the “territory” of the senior officer aboard a ship) with Whitehead at his side, the king chanced to spot a cleat set virtually in middle of the vast expanse of deck.  He turned to Whitehead, and said that despite his years of service in battleships, he had never actually seen that particularly cleat being used for anything.  The two chatted briefly about the cleat, trying to recall what its purpose was.  It was much to light to serve as a hitch for a tow or mooring line, nor, given its position, could it have served to help lower work platforms over the side or raise and lower boats.  They even inquired of some petty officers nearby, to no avail.  No one, it seemed, knew quite what function the cleat served.

King George shrugged it off, continued his stroll, and in due time turned in.

Meanwhile, word of the king's question, and of the inability of anyone present to provide an answer, reached the ship's captain.  During the night, according to Whitehead, the skipper gathered every man in the deck division -- the officers, petty officers, and sailors who actually worked the ship, and asked if anyone knew what the cleat was for.  None did.  Nevertheless, all agreed that the very same cleat had been aboard every other battleship they'd ever served in, and although they had occasionally seen it put to use, no one knew what it actually was intended for

Frustrated, the captain ordered up the rest of the crew.  Each man was shown the cleat and asked if he knew its purpose.  Finally, an old mess cook came up.  When the question was put to him, the man, who had joined the service as a boy of about thirteen, back around 1880, answered quite promptly

"That's where we used to tether the cow."

In the days before refrigeration, livestock had often been carried aboard ship, chickens for example to provide fresh eggs and the occasional fresh bird, pigs for the occasional fresh chops, and goats or even cows for a little fresh milk.  To give them a little air, the larger animals would be tethered to the cleat.  Back in the day, the designers of warships understood the purpose of the cleat, but as the custom of taking a cow to sea waned, what with the advent of better refrigerating methods and pasteurization, which permitted fresh milk to be kept aboard for relatively longer periods, and of canned milk, the purpose of the cleat had been forgotten, though it continued to appear on ships' plans.