****
"I'm getting my Brownie," Johan said. Unlike the time he'd tried to build a radio, Johan had read the instructions that came with the Brownie camera. It used chemically-treated paper on a roll. Twenty-four exposures per roll and then you sent the roll back to the factory to be developed. And they sent you the pictures. The camera cost twenty-five dollars, the rolls two dollars each and the developing ten dollars a roll.
It was really weird what went through your head when you were scared. Johan had buck fever and he knew it. He had a number of exposed but undeveloped rolls, and two precious un-exposed rolls. They could afford the rolls, but not the developing. He had realized that they were stuck on the edge of a battle and it occurred to him that he might actually be able to sell pictures of the battle.
"What!" Pastor Althus hissed again.
"I'll be with you in just a minute." Johan slipped back to the camp and grabbed his pack. Then rushed back to the river. "I can take pictures of the battle and maybe we can sell them!"
The pastor was hissing again, but Johan ignored him as he made his way across the creek and snuggled down behind a tree with a good view of the battlefield. He was just in time to see what looked to be about a third of one of the armies change direction and head what seemed right for them. They would learn later that it was General Stearns' Third Division.
Battles take a long time. It took a while for the Third Division to march out ahead of the rest of the USE Army, and even longer for the Saxon army to respond. Long before the Saxon army had started to move, Marie had joined him behind the tree and was hissing at him
Pastor Althus was annoyed with him, she informed him and apparently Marie was royally pissed. Johan wasn't sure why but, oddly, it seemed a good sign. He pointed the camera at a group of officers riding out ahead of the troops that had moved toward them. He waited for the officers to stop riding around in front of the army, and then snapped a couple of shots, figuring that they must be important.
"Pastor Althus wants you to come back where it's safe," Marie insisted.
"You go. I'm getting some really good shots here."
"You come back right now!"
"All right. All right."
They crawled back into the trees then waded across the little creek.
It took Johan several minutes to explain to Pastor Althus what he was doing and more time to convince the pastor that he was just as safe in the trees on the far side of the river as in these trees. Then Marie had to jump in and claim that if he was just as safe on the other side of the river, so was she.
He tried to argue that Pastor Althus needed her to take care of him and for a moment it looked like that might work. But Pastor Althus said that if it was really just as safe, then he would be fine here by himself.
That brought Johan up short. Was it really as safe if Marie was with him? He almost gave up on the whole deal then. But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that it really was as safe there as here. Not that either place was safe but, really, a stray round was as likely here as there.
Johan and Marie got back into position in time for the charge of the Polish hussars. Actually, it was the charge of the Saxon cavalry including a small contingent of Polish hussars. But Polish hussars are . . . extravagant. The wings on their horses are attention-getting. Johan took three pictures of the Saxon cavalry charge, all of them centered on the Polish hussars even though they were nowhere near the middle of the cavalry. They had missed the advance of the Count of Narnia's flying artillery and wouldn't have recognized it even if they had seen it. The sound of the volley guns came as a shock. The Saxon cavalry and the Polish hussars were still moving slowly when Johan and Marie heard the unusual sound and looked back at the USE Army.
There they were, fronted with white smoke but still quite visible from their angle. Johan snapped a shot centered on the horseman commanding the guns. Then another as the billowing smoke started to obscure them a little, adding an unreal, ghostly tinge to the scene. When he finally saw that picture he would be amazed because, by some trick of fate, the only truly clear bit of the image was Thorsten Engler pointing at the Polish hussars, surrounded by mist and shadowy volley guns. Johan turned back and snapped another shot of the hussars. That one would prove to be so blurred as to be useless.
They stayed at their little nest though the battle. They saw the infantry under Captain Jeff Higgins, the famous husband of the even more famous Gretchen Richter. But, though they took several pictures of the infantry firing, they never got a recognizable shot of Jeff. Which was a shame. It would have brought a pretty price. They got a couple of shots of the APCs bringing the Saxon cavalry to rout, and used up every bit of film Johan had left, but every picture of the APCs came out blurry. Two of them sold because the APCs were still recognizable, but they didn't get paid nearly as much for them.
****
The battle was over. Johan and Marie had retreated back across the little creek and were talking about what they had seen, the horror and glory of a battle, when the soldiers arrived. The USE Army had left a part of its supply train to police up the battlefield. The wounded needed treatment. Dead bodies had to be buried, dropped equipment and supplies had to be collected. And in the process of doing that, troops that hadn't had time to look for them during the battle, now saw them and wondered what they were doing there.
"Ahem."
They spun.
"And what brings you folks to the battlefield?"
Pastor Althus explained their situation. The soldiers in USE uniform listened politely but took them into custody. Just in case.
"Well, Pastor, I think we can help you out. Considering you were going to Grantville anyway."
That was how they ended up taking river barges upriver to the TacRail head and were given a free ride on TacRail from Penig to Gera. Where they caught a train to Jena and on to Grantville.
At least they let Pastor Althus ride on one of the wounded wagons. They were taken to Tollwitz, which took till after dark, even though it was high summer. The next day they were ferried across the Saale River to Wengelsdorf, where they caught the train for Grantville. All while under the eye of a polite young soldier whose job, as best Johan could tell, was to make sure they really were who they said they were.
****
"Well, all right, the houses are different," Marie said. "The buildings don't look as sturdy, though."
Grantville was a bit of a disappointment in some ways. Marie had imagined tall buildings, gleaming metal, golden streets.
That wasn't what she got. Instead, there were gray and black streets and, good grief, the place was crowded. There were some buildings that were tall, but not so tall as the cathedral in Dresden. And plain. Many of the buildings were hopelessly plain.
But the people were nice, mostly. The prices were outrageous, and they had no idea of where to stay. The Higgins Hotel was a bit intimidating.
"There it is," Pastor Althus said. "The Abrabanel Bank. Just where we should go, as near as I can tell. They're down-timers, just like us. Even if they are Jews."
****
"That's where I need to go," Johan said. He pointed to the sign, which said Grantville Free Press, then to another that said Grantville Times. "I wonder if I can get a bidding war going?"
"Or at least get them to develop all the pictures," Marie said. "Or sell some photos to each of them."
It worked out very nicely, actually. Johan got a very nice price for the photos of the battle from both newspapers, since they could both have different photos. There was an article on the battle that discussed the tactics and along with the pictures they sold their eyewitness account. The Count of Narnia picture made the cover of the Free Press and a blown-up, blurry, and touched up picture of General Stearns and his staff made the cover of the Times.