Wednesday, March 5, 2025

Of Garbage Disposals ...

The Battle of Lexington
William Barnes Wollen (PD)
'Tis an odd world we live in. For instance, the highlight of my Tuesday was getting a new garbage disposal installed. It was pricey but it was necessary. In other places, people were fighting and dying for things that we can't understand, not really anyway.

I can speak to the garbage disposal though, the rest I'll leave for another day.

I had examined candidate units at the local big box hardware store on Sunday and was leaning towards the company that made my old one. Why? Well, the old one lasted twenty years or so and we had very few problems with it. In fact, I can't remember any time we had problems with it until it simply ceased to function. (The Missus Herself did say that it acted up once or twice, nothing major though. May have popped a breaker when it was over-burdened, so to speak.)

Things wear out as time goes by, that old disposal had a better career than most.

I installed the earlier one, when I popped the doors open under the sink to see what I needed to do to replace this one, I was daunted almost immediately, and somewhat overwhelmed by memories.

Daunted because I knew that it would take me most of the day to install it myself. I also realize that I'm not as spry as I used to be, I couldn't picture myself down on the floor, under the sink, muscling stuff around and trying to keep the work area well lit.

As to the memories, my cats used to "help" with work around the house, mostly supervisory in nature, but they took an interest. As I get older I miss them more and more. Some might say, "Get another," but I can't, not at this juncture. Replacing beings you loved with a certain intensity is not easy. Our last two cats were with us for a very long time. I miss them, they were, in a word, irreplaceable.

I felt better when the two guys showed up to install the new one. First: it was two guys, second: they had the right tools for the job, and third: the new unit had some quirks that the old one didn't. It was different enough that I would have struggled mightily to refrain from unleashing my vocabulary of words not fit for polite company. That vocabulary crosses a number of languages as well. None of which The Missus Herself cares to hear spoken around Chez Sarge.

A question popped into my mind while watching the plumbers do their thing (all told it took them less than an hour from start to finish) - why do United States companies seem to redesign everything periodically? Usually not because of "hey, here's something better" but more likely "hey, we can charge more for this!" Irks me no end it does. (Looking at you Apple and your verdammte power plugs.)

In Germany things weren't constantly being redesigned, of course it's Germany so things are pretty over-engineered to begin with. For instance, the outside door handle on my house in Germany broke. Thinking I could perhaps fix it, I opened it up. Nope, a part inside had actually worn down and snapped from usage over the years.

Thinking that finding the same door handle would be difficult, a neighbor assured me, "Just go to the Mobau¹ and buy one, I bet that design hasn't changed in fifty years. Sure enough, I went there, showed one of the guys the part, he took me to where those were and BINGO! I had a replacement door handle which installed perfectly.

We kinda don't do that here. One of the "mottos" that one of my old employers used to tout was "relentless improvement," I used to call it "relentless tinkering." No one there had ever heard of the timeworn phrase, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

Sigh.

Anyhoo, think I'll watch the President tonight (last night as you read this), no doubt I'll get pissed off/bored/annoyed/frustrated within the first few minutes and go do something else, happens every year.

As to the opening painting, not sure why I chose that one, probably because it's tax season. Or am I too early putting up my Form 1040 decorations? I dunno, it's just that there is much in the world to be aggravated by, seeing someone stand up for themselves is always good.

Or maybe I'm just a curmudgeon, griping about anything and everything. Perhaps I'll go yell at the clouds on Wednesday.

Ciao.



¹ I call it the German Home Depot, very similar in concept.

Tuesday, March 4, 2025

'Tis the Season for Taking

Washington Crossing the Delaware
Emanuel Leutze
Source
Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes. - Benjamin  Franklin, in a letter to Jean-Baptiste Le Roy, 1789

It is that time again, or nearly so - tax season. Many of you will have already done your income tax forms, if you're a denizen of these United States that is. Many others are just now downloading the forms, reading the instructions and giving serious thought to paying someone to do the paperwork for them.

Normally I wait until April to do my taxes, they were, for many years, rather simple. Once I retired from the Air Force they got a little more complicated, mostly due to the fact that I was making a lot more money on "the outside" as some are wont to say.

I would also wait as actually doing the thing would normally take me two days, one for Federal, one for state. It's not that the paperwork is onerous and time consuming, but that I like to take my time and make sure every "i" is dotted and every "t" crossed.

Mind you, those would be two days when I wasn't at work, that's right, I did them on the weekend. Which cut badly into my time for reading, playing, and reading some more.

But now? Well, I have the time for it, don't I?

I also started early as I started drawing Social Security last year which tends to complicate things, tax-wise. Now, much of one's Social Security may or may not be taxable, not all of it is, I can tell you from having done the paperwork. Thing is, when they start paying you, they don't mention a damned thing about taking taxes out. (What? They can do that? Of course they can, how many politicians do you know who aren't willing to tax anything and everything?)

In my case, zero was deducted.

So Uncle Sam is getting a nice check from me this year. As long as the stooges in Congress don't waste it, I have no problem with it.

And to be sure, Congress nevers wastes our money, do they?

If you believe that, can I interest you in a bridge?


Author's Note: The painting of Washington crossing the Delaware is to recall those men back in 1775 who decided that they didn't like the taxes being levied upon them. To be fair, Parliament was within their rights to tax the Colonies. They just were arrogant about it. There's a reason for that motto on Washington DC's license plates. I don't like many of the taxes levied upon me, but hey, I do have representation, in theory. So ...

Monday, March 3, 2025

G'Day to All!

Well, it was a long trip!  Austin to Honolulu, non-stop 10.7 hours in an A330.  Staff on Board was fabulous.  No weather, no problems.  Spent the night at the Hale Koa, brought back a lot of great memories.  Dinner was fabulous, Short Ribs and Parmesan Potatoes.  Nice Argentinian Malbec.  Followed by a decent night's sleep.

As expected, was wide awake at 0300.  Breakfast at 0700 and a bit of waiting around for our afternoon Takeoff.  Interestingly, we had the exact same A330 for the Honolulu to Sydney run.  Takeoff was 1430 and while the planned flight line was only 10 hours and we arrived on time, it sure seemed like quite a longer trip.  Mostly because everybody, including Mrs J in the window seat, put down the blinds.  This former fighter pilot, likes to look out the window when I’m airborne.  EVEN OVER THE OCEAN! 

Alas, twas not to be.  

BORING!

Arrived in Sydney on time, in spite of clearing Customs with a bit of an oops!  Our passports had expired a couple of months ago. (According to Mrs J, they hadn’t technically expired, rather they were inside the 6 month window prior to expiration and could not be used. Sounds like expired to me.). Anyhow...Mrs J being the excellent staff officer she was/is had gone through the process to get new ones.  They arrived a few weeks ago.  She also went through the process of getting new Australian visas for the trip.

All went well, arrived in Sydney, went to baggage claim, got our bags, rendezvoused with our friends and proceeded to go through customs.  Being the acting travel agent for the group,  Mrs J went to the back of the line.  Being the baggage bearer for the gang, I was right behind her.  We get to the electronic "show your passport" kiosk.  All ahead go through,  Mrs J steps up, the machine beeps and directs her to the officer in the manned kiosk.  I step up to the machine, put in my passport and it beeps again, directing me to follow the leader.

We go over there, the officer, types on her computer, it beeps, she directs us to go sit "Over There!"  We follow orders, now is not the time to be belligerent.  About 10 minutes later (with the 6 other members of our group waiting for us in the Australia side of Customs), a customs officers comes by and insists we follow him.  We walk to the other end of the terminal where he directs us to sit down.  I've been sitting for the better part of 24 hours, I don't want to sit down.

However, I realize this is not the time nor place to not follow orders.  I sit down.

About 15 minutes later,  a different officer comes out with our passports.  He says we don't have valid visas.

Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot!

My master arm switch is turned on, AIM-7 selected and locked.  I'm ready to "take action".  Fortunately, Mrs J is WAY smarter than I.  She explains that we have brand new passports, less than a month or so.  She also says the Visa paperwork was presented to the Customs officer.

He agreed that they were shown, however, they did not match the dates that were in their files.  I start to stand up, yet am frozen in my seat by the stare from my wife.  

Yes, Dear!

She explained  that we had new passports and she had gone through the process to get visas and we had used the new passports to get them.  Sounds logical to me.  Our active passports and the visa's matched up with them.  

Sounds logical to me, but I'm not a bureaucrat.

Fortunately, the Aussie officer had a bit of logic also.  He said, he needed to go back and look at the record again, and would we take a seat and wait til he got back.  

Again, Mrs J gave me the silent signal for "Shut up and Color!"

A few minutes later, the officer returns and says "Well, that's strange!"  

I manage to get "How's that?" before Mrs. J can get a word in.

He says, that while our passports were valid, the visa's they had on file were from our last visit to Australia and therefore, didn't match our passport numbers they had on record.   Fortunately, Mrs J had the Visa paperwork handy, which had the issue date (with an issue date of a couple of weeks prior to our trip) on it.  She presented that to the officer.

Fortunately, the officer had a good personality, he let out a "Well, we screwed that up" and apologized for the delay.

The silver liner on this episode was, by the time Mrs. J and I got to Baggage Claim, the rest of the gang had rounded up baggage carts, pulled bags, loaded them on the carts and were waiting at the Baggage Claim exit.  

We walked out the door, our van was there waiting, we loaded up and went about our merry ways.  Managed to find our BnB and I did a front leaning face plant on the bed! 

Australia, we are here!

And...... *

 


* Apparently the owner of the BnB we're staying in has a similar sense of humor as I do.  Mrs J was "doing her business" when the roll of toilet paper ran out.  This was on the remaining tube.  She started laughing loud enough for me to need to investigate.  Both of us got a good laugh.  Gotta love the Aussies!

Sunday, March 2, 2025

December 1812: Mentir Comme un Bulletin¹

Napoleon in Smorgonia
Zygmunt Rozwadowski (PD)
"That is it then." Napoléon stood, shoulders slumped, his hands clasped behind his back, as he stared at the fire his aides had built.

Berthier cleared his throat, "Sire, you must return to Paris at once, we can convey what is left of the army to Poland. The reports of Malet's coup are confirmed. The coup was suppressed and those responsible shot, but rumors that you have died here in Russia persist."

The phrase "what is left of the army" drew a sharp look from the Emperor, but he said nothing for a long moment, then ...

"Murat!" Napoléon looked to the commander of the army's cavalry.

"Sire?" Murat looked pale and sick. Many people in the army blamed him for having run the cavalry ragged in the summer and his bad leadership for the current weakness of that arm.

"You shall command, get my army to safety while I secure the government. You have all seen the 29th Bulletin which I have dispatched?" His eyes scanned the room, falling on each marshal in turn.

"Yes Sire, we have. You should make haste." Berthier spoke for them all.

The campaign to force Alexander to adhere to the Continental System had been a complete disaster.

Marshal Ney Supporting the Rear Guard during the Retreat from Moscow
Adolphe Yvon (PD)
Supplies had reached the army from Vilna, the survivors of the 57th ate quietly, each lost in his thoughts. Lecerf looked at the men, they looked far older than their actual years. Especially André Leavitt, he had joined the army at the age of twenty, now he looked fifty.

Marais cleared his throat and raised his cup, filled with Polish beer, "To those who won't be going home."

Most of the men present nodded as they drank, no one spoke, the memories were far too painful. Many wondered if those horrors they had seen would ever fade. Marais knew that he wouldn't, couldn't, forget what he had experienced.

Lecerf stood up, "Gentlemen, I am going to post the sentries. Have you read the latest bulletin?"

Leavitt spoke up, "Yes Sir. I wonder how many will believe it?"

Lecerf shook his head, "Who cares, I thank God that it's over."

Muttered "amens" followed him out the door.


29ème Bulletin
Molodetschino, 3 Décembre 1812
 
To the 6th of November the weather was fine, and the movement of the army executed with the greatest success. The cold weather began on the 7th; from that moment every night we lost several hundred horses, in consequence of bivouacking. Arrived at Smolensk, we had already lost many cavalry and artillery horses.

The Russian army, from Volhynia, was opposed to our right: our right left the Minsk line of operations, and took for the pivot of its operations the Warsaw line. On the 9th, the Emperor was informed, at Smolensk, of this change in the line of operations, and conceived what the enemy would do. However hard it appeared to him to put himself in movement during so cruel a season, the new state of things demanded it. He expected to arrive at Minsk, or at least upon the Beresina, before the enemy; on the 13th, he quitted Smolensk; on the 16th, he slept at Krasnoi.

The cold, which began on the 7th, suddenly increased; and on the 14th, 15th, and 16th, the thermometer was sixteen and eighteen degrees below the freezing point.

The roads were covered with ice; the cavalry, artillery, and baggage horses, perished every night, not only by hundreds, but by thousands, particularly the German and French horses.

In a few days, more than 30,000 horses perished; our cavalry was on foot; our artillery and our baggage were without conveyance. It was necessary to abandon and destroy a good part of our cannon, ammunition, and provisions.

This army, so fine on the 6th, was very different on the 14th, almost without cavalry, without artillery, and without transports. Without cavalry, we could not reconnoiter a quarter of a league's distance; without artillery, we could not risk a battle, and firmly await it: it was requisite to march, in order not to be constrained to a battle, which the want of ammunition prevented us from desiring; it was requisite to occupy a certain space, not to be turned, and that too without cavalry, which led and connected the columns. This difficulty, joined to a cold that suddenly came on, rendered our situation miserable. Those men, whom nature had not sufficiently steeled to be above all the chances of fate and fortune, appeared shook, lost their gaiety - their good humor, and dreamed but of misfortunes and catastrophes; those whom she has created superior to everything, preserved their gaiety, and their ordinary manners, and saw fresh glory in the different difficulties to be surmounted.

The enemy, whom saw upon the roads traces of that frightful calamity which had overtaken the French army, endeavored to take advantage of it. He surrounded all the columns with his Cossacks, who carried off, like the Arabs of the desert, the trains and carriages that separated. This contemptible cavalry, that only make noise, and are not capable of penetrating through a company of voltigeurs, rendered themselves formidable by favor of circumstances. Nevertheless, the enemy had to repent of all the serious attempts which he wished to undertake: they were overthrown by the Viceroy, before whom they were placed, and lost many men.

The Duke of Elchingen (Marshal Ney), with 3,000 men, had blown up the ramparts of Smolensk: he was surrounded, and found himself in a critical position, but he extricated himself from it with that intrepidity by which he is distinguished. After having kept the enemy at a distance from him during the whole of the 18th, and constantly repulsed him, at night, he made a movement on the right, passed the Borysthenes, and deceived all the calculations of the enemy.

On the 19th, the army passed the Borysthenes at Orza; and the Russian army being fatigued, and having lost a great number of men, ceased from its attempts.

The army of Volhynia had inclined on the 16th, upon Minsk, and marched upon Borisow. General Dombrowski defended the bridgehead of Borisow with 3,000 men. On the 23rd, he was forced, and obliged to evacuate this position.

The enemy then passed the Beresina, marching upon Bobr; the Division Lambert formed the advance guard.

The 2nd Corps, commanded by the Duke of Reggio (Marshal Oudinot), which was at Tacherein, had received orders to march upon Borisow, to secure to the army the passage of the Beresina.

On the 24th, the Duke of Reggio met the Division Lambert, four leagues from Borisow, attacked and defeated it, took 2,000 prisoners, six pieces of cannon, 500 baggage wagons of the army of Volhynia, and threw the enemy on the right bank of the Beresina.

General Berkeim, with the 4th Cuirassiers, distinguished himself by a fine charge. The enemy could only secure his safety by burning the bridge, which is more than 300 toises in length. Nevertheless, they occupied all the passages of the Beresina: this river is forty toises wide, and had much floating ice on it, but its banks are covered with marshes 300 toises long, which present great obstacles in clearing it. The enemy's General had placed his four divisions at the different debouches, where he presumed the French army would pass.

On the 26th, at break of day, the Emperor, after having deceived the enemy by different movements made during the day of the 25th, marched upon the village of Studzeanea, and caused, in spite of the enemy's division, and in its presence, two bridges to be thrown over the river. The Duke of Reggio passed, attacked the enemy, and led him, fighting two hours. The enemy retired upon the tête-du-pont of Borisow. General Legrand, an officer of the first rate merit, was badly, but not dangerously, wounded. During the whole of the 26th and 27th, the army passed.

The Duke of Belluno (Marshal Victor), commanding the 9th Corps, had received orders to follow the movement of the Duke of Reggio, to form the rear-guard, and keep in check the Russian army from the Dwina, which followed him. Partonneaux's division formed the rear-guard of this corps.

On the 27th, at noon, the Duke of Belluno arrived with two divisions at the bridge of Studzeanea.

Partonneaux's division set out at night from Borisow. A brigade of this division, formed the rear-guard and charged with burning the bridge, marched at seven in the evening and arrived between ten and eleven o'clock; it sought its first brigade and its General, who had departed two hours before, and which it had not met with in its route. Its efforts were in vain. Some uneasiness was then conceived. All we have since been able to learn is, that the first brigade set out at five o'clock, lost its way at six, went to the right instead of proceeding to the left, and marched two or three leagues in this direction; that, during the night, the benumbed with cold, it rallied at seeing the enemy's fires, that it mistook for those of the French army. Thus surrounded, it was taken. This cruel mistake must have caused us a loss of 2,000 infantry, 300 cavalry, and three pieces of artillery. Reports state, that the General of Division was not with his column, and had marched alone.

All the army having passed, on the morning of the 28th the Duke of Belluno guarded the tête-du-pont upon the left bank: the Duke of Reggio, and behind him all the army, was upon the right bank. Borisow having been evacuated, the armies of the Dwina and Volhynia communicated; they planned an attack on the 28th, at break of day. The Duke of Reggio caused the Emperor to be informed that he was on the left bank. The Duke of Elchingen immediately followed the Duke of Reggio, and the Duke of Treviso the Duke of Elchingen. General Doumere, commanding the Fifth Division of Cuirassiers, that made part of the Second Corps that remained on the Dwina, ordered a charge by the Fourth and Fifth Regiments of Cuirassiers, at the moment when the Legion of the Vistula was engaged in the woods, to pierce the enemy's center. The enemy was defeated and put to the rout, together with his cavalry, that came to the assistance of his infantry. Six thousand prisoners, two standards, and six pieces of cannon fell into our hands.

On his side, the Duke of Belluno vigorously charged the enemy, defeated him, took from five to six hundred prisoners, and did not suffer him to advance within reach of the cannon of the bridge. General Fournier made a fine cavalry charge.

In the battle of the Beresina, the army of Volhynia suffered much. The Duke of Reggio was wounded, but his wound is not dangerous. He received a ball in his side.

The next day (the 29th) we remained on the field of battle. We had to make our choice between two routes - that of Minsk, and that to Wilna. The road to Minsk led through the middle of a forest, and of uncultivated marshes, where it was impossible for the army to feed itself. On the other hand the road to Wilna led through a very fine country. The army being without cavalry, deficient in ammunition, and horribly fatigued by fifty days' march, carrying in its train all the sick and wounded of so many battles, stood greatly in need of getting to its magazines.

On the 30th, the headquarters was at Plechnitsi; on the 1st of December at Slaike; on the 3rd at Molodetschino, where the army received the first convoys from Wilna.

All the wounded officers and soldiers, and whatever else could be of embarrassment, with the baggage, etc., were sent off to Wilna.

To say that the army stands in need of re-establishing its discipline, of refreshing itself, of remounting its cavalry, completing its artillery, and its materiel, - this is the result of the exposé that has just been made. Its repose is of the first necessity. The materiel and the horses are coming in; General Boureier has already more than 20,000 remount horses in different depots.

The artillery has already repaired its losses. The Generals, officers, and soldiers, have suffered greatly from want. Numbers have lost their baggage by the loss of their horses, and several by the effect of the Cossacks' ambushes. The Cossacks have taken numbers of isolated persons, of geographical engineers who were taking positions, and of wounded officers who were marching without precaution, preferring running the risk, to marching slowly, and going with the convoy.

The reports of the General Officers, commanding the different corps, will make known what officers and soldiers have chiefly distinguished themselves, and the details of these memorable events.

In all movements the Emperor has been continually marching in the middle of his guards - the cavalry commanded by the Duke of Istria (Marshal Bessieres), and the infantry commanded by the Duke of Dantzic (Marshal Lefebvre).

His majesty has been well pleased with the fine spirit shown by his guards. They have always been ready to show themselves wherever their presence was needful; but circumstances have always been such that their appearance alone was sufficient, and that they never were in a situation which required them to charge.

The Prince of Neuchatel (Marshal Berthier), the Grand Marshal (Duroc), the Grand Equerry (Caulaincourt), and all the aides-de-camp and military officers of the household, have always accompanied his Majesty.

Our cavalry was dismounted to such a degree, that it was necessary to collect the officers who had still a horse remaining, in order to form four companies of 150 men each.

The Generals there performed the functions of captains, and the colonels of subalterns. This sacred squadron, commanded by General Grouchy, and under the orders of the King of Naples (Murat), did not lose sight of the Emperor in all these movements. The health of his Majesty was never better. (Source)
Click to enlarge
Source


¹ To lie like a bulletin. This was a phrase used by soldiers of the Grande Armée to refer to what they felt was the lack of truth evident in many of Napoléon's dispatches transmitted to the French people via his bulletins. To finish out this series I have included the full (translated) text of the Emperor's 29th Bulletin, issued on the 3rd of December 1812. Napoléon left the army to return to Paris on the 5th of December.

Saturday, March 1, 2025

November 1812: Berezina, La Traversée

Napoleon's Forces Crossing the Berezina
Wojciech Kossak and Julian Fałat (PD)
Lecerf had the men up and moving before the sun came up. Much of the army seemed to be in no hurry, but Davout had rousted them out and harried them into moving. Victor's forces were still holding off Wittgenstein, but just barely.

What was left of I Corps was across the river fairly quickly, the men, used to marching in step, were in need of constant reminders not to do so, the rhythmic tread of a body of troops could start a dangerous vibration in the bridge structure.

"Walk like civilians! Come on, pretend you're on a boulevard in Paris! We're looking for a nice café for our morning repast!" Sergeant Blanchard was tireless, going up and down the column, and nearly being shoved into the frigid waters for his troubles.

"Sergeant, stay on this bank. I appreciate your efforts but I don't want to try fishing you out of this soup!" Marais gestured at the Berezina, choked with small ice floes and, increasingly, the bodies of men who had drowned. Many had tried to ford the river and had died in the trying.

"Very well, Sir. Look! There's Lieutenant Leavitt, that's the last of our boys then."

Marais looked, sure enough, it was the erstwhile commander of the ragged survivors of the 57th, hustling the last few men over the bridge. There was another infantry regiment close on their heels.

Lecerf saw this and shouted out, "What regiment?!"

Upon hearing the number, he realized that what was left of I Corps were across. The men behind his brigade belonged to the Viceroy. Italians he supposed, there couldn't be many of them left. They'd been cut off at the Battle of Krasnoi but had fought their way out, leaving many of their number behind.

"Tough bastards there." Marais offered.

"Yes, damned fine men, the sort of men Caesar would be proud of. Get our boys formed up, looks like we've got company!"


The Emperor snapped his glass closed and barked, "Oudinot! Ney!"

"Yes Sire?" The two answered as one.

"Looks like Chichagov has decided to contest the crossing. Can you hold him here while we get the remainder of the army across?"

"Certainly, Sire," Ney answered as the senior of the two, "I don't think he's serious, he has no batteries in position."

"Very well," turning in his saddle he looked to Berthier, "Orders to Eugène, Davout, and Junot, they are to act as a reserve for Ney and Oudinot. As soon as Victor is across, we shall continue the retreat."

Berthier began to write, Napoléon spoke again. "When Victor is across, burn the bridges, let us keep Monsieur Kutuzov off our backs for as long as possible."

The staff sat their horses quietly, one man, Rapp, finally spoke, "Sire, there are forty thousand on the wrong side of the river still."

"Stragglers, camp followers, rabble who have left their Eagles. Let them fend for themselves!" The Emperor nudged his horse into motion, he wanted to check the lines. And he was tired of the staff's constant second guessing.

Davout moved closer to Berthier, "I shall send word across the river, let them have the night to come across. We can burn the bridges on the morrow, the Russians will not advance."

Berthier nodded, "Be quick about it, if the Emperor asks, I shall feign ignorance."

Crossing the Berezina River on 29 November 1812
Peter von
Hess (PD)
"Lecerf, take your men forward, Ney needs help!" Maréchal Davout looked ready to fall from his horse. No one had had much rest, but Davout had had less than most.

"The 57th will advance!" Lecerf barked out.

The rapidly diminishing brigade moved forward in column, Davout watched them march off, he raised his hat to them as they went, "Vive le Terrible!"

The men answered with "Vive l'Empereur! Vive Davout!"

Marais' eyes glistened, it felt as though Davout was bidding them farewell. But as their sole surviving drummer tapped out his rhythm, he felt a spring in his step. At least they were advancing, and not running like whipped dogs.

Crossing of the Berezina
Felician Myrbach (PD)
The Russians had advanced a few skirmishers, but nothing serious. Maréchal Ney came up to Lecerf and informed him that the 57th would fight with him. The rest of Davout's survivors had already marched off.

Oudinot's troops filed to the rear, Ney's men stepping back carefully, their faces to the Russians who seemed to still be abed as the sun rose.

Lecerf kept the men in formation, some had died in the night of exposure. He believed he had less than 250 effectives still with the Eagle. But these were the hard core, the kind who wouldn't quit, they would stay with the Eagle until death. He heard a voice in the ranks.

"Dear God, the bridges are burning."

Lecerf looked to the river, the bridges were fully alight by now, one had already collapsed. The silent mob who had stayed on the enemy bank only now began to stir, seeing that their path to relative safety was falling into the river.

There was a rush to cross, some ran onto the bridges, only to die either in the flames or in the icy waters of the Berezina. Many were screaming that they were betrayed and cursed the Emperor. Some tried to swim across, they were swept away in the current, screaming for help that would not, could not, come.

"Lazy dogs could have crossed last night, instead they decided to cozy up to their fires and spend the night carousing. Stupid bastards." Sergeant Blanchard spat in their direction.

"Why did they not cross?" Leavitt asked, genuinely puzzled.

Marais answered, "No one to make them, they've all decided to quit. They shall rue that decision, I'm sure."

"If they live long enough," Blanchard said, spitting again.

He had crossed over the night before, he knew of at least ten men of the 57th who had fallen out and decided to try and make it on their own. They had discarded their weapons and shot, many still had the odd souvenir which they hoped to sell once they returned to France.

"You should cross now," he had argued, "you'll find plenty of discarded weapons and ammunition between here and the 57th's bivouac."

"You're a fool Sergeant, we will be in a Russian prison camp while your corpse freezes under the snow. There is no hope comrade, stay with us."

Blanchard had shaken his head and went back. He would not argue with men who thought they were doing the right thing but were, in reality, condemning themselves to death. The Russians would not be taking prisoners, they had no time for that. The stragglers would be left where they had stopped. Perhaps the Cossacks might make sport of them. If they were lucky they would die right there.

Marching back to the east as a prisoner was unlikely, most would die of exposure long before reaching imprisonment.

"Fools," Blanchard hissed as he regained the French bank of the river.



Friday, February 28, 2025

November 1812: Berezina, La Glace s'est Brisée¹

The Berezina in Winter
Source
"The Russians are in Borizov?" Napoléon asked, looking at his map spread on the floor of the small peasant hut. The Emperor, as was his custom, was on his hands and knees to closely study the large scale map.

"Yes, Sire. But there is worse news." The scout stood at attention, he was very nervous.

Napoléon looked up, "At ease, my son."

The cavalryman, one of the Guard Chasseurs à Cheval visibly relaxed.

Grinning, the Emperor asked, "What could possibly be worse than a contested river crossing in the dead of winter?"

"The bridge is down, Sire, and the ice, the ice on the river, has broken. The Berezina is flowing."

Napoléon got to his feet, closed his eyes, and wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes, that is worse. Much worse."

The Chasseur snapped to attention, "Apologies, mon Empereur."

Grasping the sleeve of the man's jacket with his left hand, he placed the right on the Chasseur's shoulder, "It isn't your fault lad, return to your squadron, you have my thanks. And ..." he turned to Berthier.

"A gold Napoléon for our intrepid scout." He noticed a look pass over the Chasseur's face.

"You'd rather something else?" There was a hint of disappointment in Napoléon's voice.

"Nothing to buy out here, Sire," nodding towards a small table near the door, he continued, "that heel of bread would be better, begging your pardon, Sire."

The Emperor nodded, smiling he said, "Take the entire loaf, I'm sure your messmates will appreciate it as well."

"Yes Sire, thank you."

After the man left, Napoléon turned to his generals, "Well gentlemen, it seems we are in the shit. What next?"


Lecerf nodded after reading the message from Maréchal Davout, "Thank you, tell the Maréchal we shall move at once."

Turning to his two remaining officers, he sighed, "Well boys, looks like the Russians have destroyed the bridge over the river."

"Can't we cross on the ice?" Leavitt asked.

Marais shook his head, the air had felt warmer that morning, "F**king ice is gone, isn't it?"

Lecerf nodded again, spat in the snow, then said, "The river ice has broken up, there will be no crossing over on the ice. Worse yet, we'd have to throw up a bridge under fire, with drift ice fighting the engineers all the way."

Marais spoke again, "We left the bridging trains behind, didn't we?"

Lecerf looked around, "Yes, we did. But right now, Davout wants us to move further up the river, to Studienka. Apparently we will cross there."

Source
"Eblé, just how do you intend to bridge the Berezina?" Napoléon hoped that Jean Baptiste Eblé had some trick up his sleeve. He had ordered the man to destroy the bridging train and especially the mobile field forges the Grande Armée used. There was no sense to letting that technology fall into Russian hands.

"We can tear down the village of Studienka for the necessary materials, I," here Eblé hesitated, "I still have my tools and forges, Sire. I deliberately disobeyed your order to destroy them. I assumed that there would be time enough to do so, if needed."

Napoléon stared at Eblé for a moment, his engineer paled under his gaze.

Then he spoke, "And thank God that you did. Get to work."

Anno 1812. Kapitein Benthien aan de Beresina²
Lawrence Alma-Tadema (PD)
Marais harried the tale of the column, cannon fire could be heard in the distance. He'd been told that three Russian forces were closing on the survivors of the Grande Armée.

"We need to get up to Studienka and screen the engineers. If they don't get a bridge across the river, we're all going to die here. March lads! Your lives certainly depend on it!"

The men left were the tough ones, the ones who refused to die. They didn't complain, they soldiered on with a grim resolve. Marais saw one man stumble, his comrades helped him up.

"I'm not dead yet, you bastards. I'll be back in Paris before the spring. I'll say hello to your girlfriends and tell them how bravely you all died!" the soldier yelled out as he resumed his place in the column. Several of the men near him simply nodded, there was no quit in these soldiers.

Marais ran his sleeve over his eyes, he blinked and thought to himself, "The Emperor doesn't deserve these men."

Dutch Soldiers at the Battle of the Berezina
Jan Hoynck van Papendrecht (PD)
The army was beginning to move. Eblé's men had built two bridges, a number of his men had been swept away during the construction, but the bridges were in, the army was crossing.

Russian forces under Wittgenstein were pressing Victor's men hard. But they stood and fought like lions. Many of the troops covering the crossing were Dutchmen, they seemed to fight all the harder knowing that their countrymen were the ones who had built the bridges.

They fought and they died, less than a third would survive the battle.



¹ The ice has broken. (French)
² Year 1812 Captain Benthien on the Berezina (Dutch) Général Eblé's men were mostly Dutch. He had taken untrained men, for the most part, and during the campaign turned them into very good bridging engineers. These men suffered badly from working in the icy water. Eblé himself would die in December from being in that water with his men. Well Seasoned Fool would know men like this!

Thursday, February 27, 2025

November 1812: Le Sauvé¹

Retreat from Moscow
Franciszek Kostrzewski
Lecerf let the pony make its own pace, he was satisfied to keep the column in sight and keep the animal going in that direction. He was wary of his surroundings, where there had been one Cossack, there were probably others.

He had taken the Cossack's furry, and very verminous, cap for his own. It was made of some sort of sheepskin, as near as he could tell, it was that filthy. But it kept his head warm and with the lady's scarf he had "liberated" from a corpse, his face was now protected as well.

He had taken the Cossack's pistol and shot, as he had no more ammunition for the one he had taken from the dead lancer. He had also appropriated the Cossack's saber. Though the man's garments had been filthy, his weapons were well taken care of.

He had a bag of fodder for the pony, the Cossacks were well known for taking care of their mounts, and a stale crust of bread, also taken from the dead Cossack.

Lecerf ached all over, when the cannonade had struck the brigade he had been caught up in the general retreat. He had tried to stop the men from panicking to no avail. He had been knocked down in the retreat and trod upon by more than one man, desperate to live.

He looked up, the tail of the  column he was chasing was nearly at the horizon, in a few moments they would be over the small rise and lost in the terrain and the swirling snow. He nudged the pony to go just a bit faster. As he did so, he heard a shout behind him.

More Cossacks!


Marais was with the rear guard, he was determined to bring the survivors of the 57th out of Russia, but the cold and the exhaustion of the men was defeating his efforts.

"Martin! Get on your feet lad, one foot in front of the other! Come on now!"

As he reached the man who had collapsed, he saw that all of his exhortations would be futile, Martin had collapsed and died. Just as his will had given out, so had his body.

"Damn it!" he snapped at no one, at nothing.

"Lieutenant, we are being pursued." The calm voice of Sergeant Christophe Blanchard made him look down the track, littered with French corpses.

Not far off, perhaps at twice a musket shot was a man on one of those tough little Cossack ponies. Further beyond, at 12-pounder range², was a party of perhaps a score of Cossacks. Marais wondered why the single horseman was so far in front of his comrades.

"Sergeant."

"Sir?"

"Muster me a firing party."

"Sir!"

As Blanchard selected the men he would need, all still armed, all still ready to fight, Marais saw a puff of smoke from the larger party. Why would they be firing at one of their ...

"Stand by Sergeant, the man in front is French, the others are Russians."

"How can you tell?"

"Well, the larger party fired on the single man, he's either one of ours or a deserter."


Lecerf heard the ball whistle past his ear before he heard the pop of the Cossack's carbine to his rear. He dug his heels into the pony's flanks and the shaggy beast sped up.

To his front he saw that he had been noticed, a ragged line of men was forming, muskets at the present. Good Lord, was he to be shot by his own army?

He started screaming at the top of his lungs, "Vive l'Empereur!" and he continued to scream as he drew within musket range.


"That's no Cossack, Lieutenant. He rides like an infantryman!"

Marais watched as the pursuing Cossacks drew their sabers and began to scream "Oorah!" as they got closer to the lone man ahead of them. They scented blood and had no fear of the ragged column from Napoléon's wrecked army.

"Steady lads, the one in front is one of ours. Be ready to take that second bunch under fire. Steady lads ..."

The lone horseman knew his business, veering his mount at the last second to avoid the line of soldiers, their muskets now at the ready.

"FIRE!!"

The lead Cossacks tried to rein in their mounts, they hadn't expected to be fired upon. Nevertheless, five ponies crashed to the earth and two other saddles were emptied by the close range volley.


Lecerf's pony collapsed as he reined up in the midst of a number of angry looking soldiers. With a bayonet in his face, he stood up. Having seen one man's shako plate with the "57" upon it, he threw off the Cossack's filthy cap and roared ...

"So you'd bayonet your own commander?!!"

The man who had been about to skewer him went pale, "Chef de Bataillon Lecerf? Is it you?"

"No, you simpering ape from the slums of Marseilles, it is my f**king ghost!"

Then he looked towards the horse which had saved his life, "No ..."

The men were already butchering the dying animal.


Marais looked with concern at his battalion commander, "That nose needs to be looked at, Sir. It is white as the snow, I see red patches forming. Sir, you have frostbite."

Lecerf touched his nose, it felt like ice. He began to try and rub it to get his circulation going. "Where is the Brigade surgeon, I'm ugly enough without losing my nose."

Marais shrugged, "He is back in Krasnoi, perhaps he made it out, we haven't seen him since the cannonade."

"What is the holdup here?" a very perturbed Lieutenant Leavitt had arrived, his face went pale as he saw Lecerf.

Lecerf chuckled, "So you have the battalion now, André?"

"No Sir, I have the brigade, well, now I guess you do. We have three hundred or so left." Leavitt glanced at Marais.

"We've lost ten or so in the last hour, but three hundred is close enough. We should get moving again."

Lecerf nodded, "Lead the way, André. You command the rear, Pierre?"

"I do, Sir."

"Very well, let's get moving. We have a river to cross if I'm not mistaken."

As Lecerf and Leavitt moved off, Sergeant Blanchard asked Marais, "The Berezina?"

"Yes Christophe, we're close. Pray for it to be frozen."

Blanchard shook his head, "We're all freezing to death and I'm to pray for ice?"

Then a thought struck him, a frozen river wouldn't require a bridge, they could march across if the ice was thick enough.

"Ice it is then." Looking to the heavens, he crossed himself and prayed for ice.



¹ The Saved One
² Twice musket shot would be roughly two hundred yards, Marais would think in terms of the effective range. At 12-pounder range would be roughly 850 yards.