Napoléon's "Wife"¹

Maréchal Louis-Alexandre Berthier
Source

He was torn, the Emperor had returned. Though he had reconciled himself to the Bourbons, deep inside he couldn't shake his feelings for Napoléon. As much as the Emperor had abused him during their many campaigns together, both understood that together they made a powerful team.

He had decided to pull up stakes and move into Germany, Bamberg to be specific. He had many friends there, not a few enemies as well. But he wanted to put distance between himself and the uproar in Paris. Then he would decide whether or not to keep himself aloof from Napoléon's return, or rejoin the Corsican.

Another factor was his age, after all, he was 61 years of age and was worn out from the campaigns. Particularly Russia, like many in the Army, though he had survived, he had left many friends there, their bodies left to rot under foreign soil. To be honest, he felt as if he'd left a piece of himself there as well.

For a moment he thought of his mistress, his Giuseppa, the love of his life. The Emperor frowned upon that relationship, had even forced him to marry a German princess. Oddly enough, his mistress and his wife became fast friends. Berthier still wondered if his wife knew the whole story behind his Italian lover. Surely she must know.

Berthier sighed, then opened the letter which had been handed to him by the young man waiting patiently behind him some minutes ago. He had recognized the seal instantly, one which he had issued orders under for many a year, the personal seal of the Emperor himself.

Breaking the wax, he opened the letter, wondering if the Emperor had written it himself or if he had dictated it to an aide. He recognized the handwriting, the letter was in the Emperor's own hand.

"Better than any code," he chuckled as he said that.

"Sir?"

"The Emperor's handwriting, I'm one of the few who can actually read it. And interpret its meaning."

The young messenger remained silent at that.

Berthier read the missive, nodding once, then again, as he if agreed with what the Emperor seemed to be saying. Well, one thing was clear, war was coming and Napoléon wanted him back, at headquarters and in the field. Berthier sighed.

"Will you be returning directly to the Emperor?" he inquired of the messenger.

"Only if you continue on into Germany, Sir. Otherwise I am to accompany you back to Paris. There is a squadron of Chasseurs waiting nearby to provide your escort. To protect you."

"Do I need protection?" Berthier turned in his seat, suddenly annoyed.

"Not from the Emperor, but there has been rumor of a plot to murder you."

"Rumor?"

The messenger looked towards the door, then reached into his jacket, producing another message. This one too had a seal, but the seal was broken.

"Someone else's mail?" Berthier scoffed as he took the paper. He saw that the seal was that of the Ministry of Police, the seal of Fouché himself.

He read the letter, then handed it back to the young man. "Has this been verified?"

"Non, monsieur, but every indication we have tends to make us believe it."

"So Fouché thinks to take charge of the government himself ..."

"So the Emperor believes."

"Let us be on our way then."

"To?"

"Why Paris, of course."

¹ The relationship between the Emperor and Berthier, his long time Chief of Staff, was very close. Though Napoléon abused the man at times, he knew that Berthier was the perfect interpreter of the Imperial will. The Emperor's orders were often short, unclear, but Berthier apparently lived in side Napoléon's brain and could issue concise and clear orders. The Emperor's will was often indiscernible, until it went through Berthier. The Army often referred to Berthier as the Emperor's wife.

Initial Moves - A Waterloo What If

Portrait de Napoléon Ier
Robert Lefèvre (PD)

The Emperor ran his hand over the desk, it was covered in dust, it appeared to have been left in the state in which he had last seen it. As if the Bourbons had stayed away from this particular palace, the last home of his Joséphine.

He felt a deep sadness at the thought of her. She had failed to provide him with an heir, so he had divorced her and married an Austrian princess. The Army, particularly the Guard, had been fond of the Empress, many never forgave him for divorcing her. Now, after Elba, it seemed that he might need an heir after all. But the Austrians held his wife and son captive, in Vienna. So ...

He shook his head and looked up as his Mameluke, Ali¹, finished preparing the Emperor's bed.

"Ali!"

His servant jumped at the Emperor's bark, though the man could be abrupt, it was rare for the Emperor to bark at him so. He saved that for his marshals.

"Sire?"

"You have something to tell me?" Napoléon's voice was softer, he hadn't meant to startle the man, but he was exhausted, there was much to do and little time to do it in.

"I have heard from a man close to both of us, Roustam² wishes to rejoin your service."

The Emperor winced as a sudden pain flared in his tired brain. When he opened his eyes he looked at Ali and in a quiet voice said ...

"Out of the question, the man betrayed me."

Ali stood up straight, "As did Maréchal Ney, and others I could name, yet you welcome them back into your service as if they had not."

Napoléon's eyes opened wide, then he took a deep breath. "I know, Ali, I know. But I need men who can lead my armies, you do Roustam's job as well as he ever did. So no, let him know that I no longer bear him a great deal of animosity. But he cannot return to my service."

"Very well, Sire. My apologies."

"Accepted, you rogue, now leave me. I must think."

Upon awakening, the Emperor sent for the commander of the day's duty squadron, which that day was the 2nd Squadron of the Chasseurs à Cheval of the Imperial Guard. The man commanding this day had been with him since Marengo.

"You understand what is needed, yes?"

"Yes Sire. Messieurs Fouché and Talleyrand are to be secured, taken to the forests outside of Versailles, and disposed of." The officer didn't even blink, in his own opinion the police minister and the foreign minister should have been disposed of years ago. Things must be desperate for le Tondu³ to take this step.

"Very well, now please ask Maréchal Davout⁴ to come in."

The cavalryman simply banged his heels together and with an abrupt nod, spun on his heel and departed. The jingling of his spurs echoing on the tiled floor.

The Emperor looked away from the door for a moment, when his gaze returned there, the Iron Marshal stood in the doorway. His bald head made him look like a schoolmaster, but the posture, and the glint in the eye said "soldier."

"Sire?"

"I have changed my mind about your posting as Minister of War ..."

Napoléon's hand went up as Davout began to speak, "I need you in the field my Prince. I have spoken with Ney⁵, I cannot trust him, his mind, what he has of it, is quite addled by his service in Russia. The people of France, most of them anyway, want me, need me on the throne. The rest of Europe would rather see me at the end of a rope I think."

"Ney is popular with the troops, Sire."

"You should have seen him at Grenoble, Davout. He had sworn to that fat king that he would return me to Paris in an iron cage. His men submitted to me, to me, I merely had to offer my chest as a target. They flocked to my eagles. Ney is a spent force."

"Who will you leave in Paris when the Army marches? Fouché and Talleyrand are already hedging their bets ..."

"They will not be a factor much longer." The tone of the Emperor's voice made even the Iron Marshal shudder. Now he understood why the Emperor would speak to a squadron commander before one of his marshals. The cavalryman had carried out other missions for the state. Davout would not want to be in Fouché's and Talleyrand's shoes, he suspected that they didn't have long to live.

Napoléon looked at Davout and said, "What think you of Maréchal Soult⁶ as Minister of War?"

"A capable man in the field, but in Paris? I have my doubts. Why not St-Cyr⁷? A good man, perhaps too old for active service, but he is cold, calculating, he'd make a fine man to watch your back while you are in the field."

"The Owl?" The Emperor chuckled at the nickname given the man by his troops, then he grew thoughtful.

"The man will follow orders, Sire. He always has."

"I shall think on it, you will accompany me with the Army."

"When do we march?"

"Soon, my dear Maréchal, soon. There is an opportunity in Belgium, we deal with the shopkeepers and the Prussians, then the rest as they approach the frontiers."

After Davout's departure, the Emperor was up late, studying his maps, reading correspondence from his agents in foreign capitals. He had a chance, barely a chance, but if they moved quickly, he might keep the throne.

Knock the English paymaster from the war, then who would pay to overthrow him then?

He rubbed his eyes, the headache was returning.

¹ Louis-Étienne Saint-Denis was a member of the Mamelukes of the Imperial Guard, leading him to be known in his lifetime as "Mamelouk Ali".

² Roustam Raza, Napoléon's first Mameluke servant, presented to him by the Sheikh of Cairo in 1798. Roustam had served the Emperor for 15 years before abandoning him in 1814.

³ Literally "the shorn one." The Imperial Guard kept their hair in the old style, long and tied back in a queue. As the Emperor kept his hair short. The Guard had a number of nicknames for their Emperor.

⁴ Louis-Nicolas Davout, Prince of Eckmühl, Duke of Auerstadt, Marshal of the Empire.

⁵ Michel Ney, Prince de la Moskowa, Duke of Elchingen, Marshal of the Empire.

⁶ Jean-de-Dieu Soult, Duke of Dalmatia, Marshal of the Empire.

⁷ Laurent de Gouvion Saint-Cyr, Marquis of Gouvion-Saint-Cyr, Marshal of the Empire.

The Cost

Bivouac après le combat du Bourget, 21 décembre 1870
Alphonse de Neuville (PD)

Alright, first things first - I'm not quite ready to climb back into the saddle (as in posting every day) just yet. Sloth is a bad habit to break, while I've not been completely idle, as far as writing goes, I have been completely idle. So it's going to take some time to break the not writing habit.

Another factor is that I am at a loss as to what to write about. War is my "thing" and I've told many a war-related story since the inception of this here blog. But I grow tired of it. War is a horrid thing, nothing to be celebrated and only to be engaged in as necessary.

People die, stuff gets destroyed, lives are changed forever and to what end? So some group of powerful assholes gets their say over something. Or they get to claim something which isn't theirs.

Sometimes war will start as one thing, then become something else. For instance, when, in 1789, the French dumped their king, and later executed him AND his queen, most European monarchies saw that as a very bad thing. Not because the Bourbons were necessarily wonderful rulers but hey, we don't want our own peasants and bourgeoisie getting the wrong ideas. As in, "Hey, we don't like how things are being done, so we're throwing you out and putting someone else in charge."

So they invaded France to put Louis back on the throne, and once he was dead, to put a different, though related, Louis, back on the throne. What all those European crowned heads didn't count on was the French people fighting back, en masse. Not with some uniformed properly trained professional army, but with common folks, semi-trained and armed, in large numbers.

In essence, in order to set back the clock, those royal armies seeking to do so would have to kill a lot of Frenchmen, and armies are expensive dontcha know. Keeping them fed and in the field for long periods of time drains treasuries. And a drained treasury is what the French Revolution was caused by (in part).

What was worse is that a very talented guy, Napoléon Bonaparte, took over the French armies in Italy, drove the Austrians out, then went back to France and essentially drove the French Revolutionary government out.

Now Napoléon was a big believer in a good offense is the best defense. Go to the enemy's home country and kick his ass there, rather than wait for him to come to your country. But one thing led to another and before you know it, the French were bleeding troops and cash in Spain and then Napoléon went into Russia and got his ass kicked by the Russian people and the Russian weather.

So it took a number of years to restore the Bourbons to the French throne. The French rather resented all that. Some years later, Napoléon's nephew made himself Emperor and went to war again. The cycle continued ...

Now as I read about the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, I read of destroyed villages, people uprooted from their homes and killed, if not as a direct effect of battle in their towns, then as a result of the disruption of everyday life.

I looked out my window one day after reading an account of a particularly nasty battle and imagined what my neighborhood would look like if a battle had been fought there. Well, for the most part it would be pretty much gone.

Buildings knocked down or in flames (or both), dead bodies everywhere. Not a pretty sight by any measure, and imagine the stench. Yes, dear readers, battlefields stink. Blood, voided bowels, the stench of expended explosives, the soil itself ripped and torn. Only an idiot would wish to see such a sight.

And there are people out there, people who have no clue as to what reality is, who clamor for just such a thing. Of course, they don't see themselves as actually having to participate. Someone else, the peasantry, the plebians, you know, the riffraff, will do the actual killing and dying. Not them, oh heavens no.

Those who desire war to seize property or to shove an ideology down someone's throat should be avoided. It would be nice to hand them a weapon and say, "You first." Though I don't see that happening anytime soon.

You can vote yourself into a socialist hell, but you can't really vote your way out. (Looking at you NYC.)

Think before you choose, remember, someone else might show up on your doorstep and shove a gun in your face to make you do something.

Anyhoo, war sucks and I tire of writing about it.

So yeah, I'm running out of stuff to write about.

We'll see how this goes ...

Ciao!

There and Back, Again x 3

First day
OAFS Photo

So for the third year in a row we spent a week at a lovely place on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay. As you might guess by the title, this year's trip is in the history books. It's over, we're back at our base in Maryland, contemplating a return to Little Rhody after Independence Day. While it's a big parade in the old home town, we've "been there, done that." The parade (America's Oldest) doesn't change much from year to year and once you've seen one, you've seen most of 'em.

Yes, there are new marching bands from one year to the next but hey, it's all the same to me. While it's a pretty big deal in town, it attracts thousands of tourists. It also attract lots of traffic, parking issues, and noise. In my dotage, I prefer a quiet 4th of July. As I can see the fireworks from my deck, I don't need to go into town to see those. Yes, I still enjoy a good simulation of cannon fire and the rocket's red glare, but I can sit at home, adult beverage in hand, and watch it in comfort.

The trip to the beach house was, again, spectacular. The weather, for the most part, was cooperative and the water was just right, not too warm, not too cool. We did get a couple of impressive storms, one of which my granddaughter and I watched come in from the west and provide some incredible lightning shows from well to the south and well up to the north. According to the radar the storm stretched from North Carolina up to Delaware.

The family surveying the aftermath ...
OAFS Photo

We strolled down to the beach to see the waves first hand, the photo doesn't do them justice ...

OAFS Video

Wind was gusting up to about 30 mph after the storm, a steady 20 mph in the video. It was pretty wild. The temperature stayed reasonable throughout.

Don't know if you can tell, but the beach is private. My grandson Roberto thinks the whole world lives this way. Why disillusion him now?

We even had a kayak this year, I talked to the maintenance guy, Carl, on Sunday last as we were loading up to leave, he said the kayaks blew ashore from further up the Bay from a rental place. There were four of them, three back in the dunes, one right on "our" beach. So we availed ourselves of that, grandkids loved it!

Carl did let the owner know where his kayaks were, seems the fellow hadn't found the time to come collect his property yet, he lost them over a month ago! Oh well ...

Anyhoo, the beach vacation is done, the Maryland vacation continues. I'll let juvat continue to regale you with his MoH series (which I'm enjoying) and I'll be back on board in a bit. We'll see. Being idle is a joy all to itself!

Last day
OAFS Photo

Until next year!
OAFS Photo

Ciao!

Col John R. Kane MOH

 

When I started research on this man's story, I thought this was going to be another Ploesti story.  While Ploesti was a significant episode in his career, it's not the only high heart rate mission he had flown.  So, we'll get started.

Source

He received his commission and wings in the early 1930's and in 1940 commanded a squadron in my neck of the woods, Lackland AFB San Antonio.  Many of you readers may have stories to tell about your time there.

Anyhow....After the WWII started he was sent to the Mediterranean Theater of Operation.  He flew 43 combat sorties for a total of 250 combat hours, commanding the 98th Bombardment Group, a B-24 unit.  That's a lot of combat. An intercepted German message reported to him that the Germans had nicknamed him "Killer Kane".  For some reason, he accepted that with gratitude.

He received a Distinguished Flying Cross after leading a mission to Naples in 1942 where he and his unit sank a Cruiser and a Battleship.  He later received a Silver Star while leading his unit on a mission.  He was attacked by a BF-110.

Source

Though his tail and top turrets were inoperative (my source does not say why) he as able to avoid hits by the fighter until it ran out of ammunition after 8 passes his bomber and it returned to its base.  Upon returning to Col Kane's base, an inspection of his aircraft had little appreciable damage.

Pretty darn good flying, I'd say!

But the mission which earned him the Medal of Honor was dubbed Operation Tidal Wave. This was the low level bombing raid on the oil plants at Ploiești Romania. As many of you history buffs will remember this was a disastrous raid with 53 aircraft and 500 men were lost for little damage to the target.  It was back up and running within a few weeks.

Col Kane led his squadron on this mission, and elected to circle the target area helping other bombers get oriented.  Evidently there was a lot of smoke obscuring it.

Source

 See what I mean?

Anyhow, this decision used up his reserve fuel and he was forced to land on Cyprus. 8 Days later he was awarded the Medal of Honor.

Yeah, I'd say he's a warrior!

Source 

 

He continued his Air Force career and commanded several bases.  He retired in 1954 and passed away in 1996 at 89. 

 

Source

Rest in Peace, Warrior! 

Citation for the Award of the Medal of Honor to Col John R. Kane

For conspicuous gallantry in action and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty on 1 Aug 1943. On this date he led the third element of heavy bombardment aircraft in a mass low-level bombing attack against the vitally important enemy target of the Ploesti oil refineries. En route to the target, which necessitated a round-trip flight of over 2,400 miles, Col. Kane’s element became separated from the leading portion of the massed formation in avoiding dense and dangerous cumulous cloud conditions over mountainous terrain. Rather than turn back from such a vital mission he elected to proceed to his target. Upon arrival at the target area it was discovered that another group had apparently missed its target and had previously attacked and damaged the target assigned to Col. Kane’s element. Despite the thoroughly warned defenses, the intensive antiaircraft fire, enemy fighter airplanes, extreme hazards on a low-level attack of exploding delayed action bombs from the previous element, of oil fires and explosions and dense smoke over the target area, Col. Kane elected to lead his formation into the attack. By his gallant courage, brilliant leadership, and superior flying skill, he and the formation under his command successfully attacked this vast refinery so essential to our enemies’ war effort. Through his conspicuous gallantry in this most hazardous action against the enemy, and by his intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty, Col. Kane personally contributed vitally to the success of this daring mission and thereby rendered most distinguished service in the furtherance of the defeat of our enemies.

 

Sources

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_R._Kane

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ploie%C8%99ti 

https://theaviationgeekclub.com/operation-tidal-wave-why-the-1943-raid-on-ploesti-oilfields-failed-to-diminish-the-supply-of-fuel-to-germany-and-its-allies/ 

https://www.thisdayinaviation.com/tag/colonel-john-r-kane/ 

 

 

 

 

Captain James P. Fleming MOH

 

Source

Well...as one may surmise, this Medal of Honor recipient survived the engagement where he earned the Medal.  He deserved it as you will come to realize.  Wikipedia has an excellent summary of that mission.  Much more detail than in this posting.

Source

During his 30 year military career, Colonel Fleming had also been awarded the Silver Star, Distinguished Flying Cross and eight Air Medals. The missions for these are summarized here.

Source

 

He was born in 1943.  Wikipedia says his age is 83 which means this hero is still with us.
 

 Citation for the Award of the Medal of Honor to Captain James P. Fleming

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Capt. Fleming (then 1st Lt.) distinguished himself as the Aircraft Commander of a UH-1F transport Helicopter. Capt. Fleming went to the aid of a 6-man special forces long range reconnaissance patrol that was in danger of being overrun by a large, heavily armed hostile force. Despite the knowledge that 1 helicopter had been downed by intense hostile fire, Capt. Fleming descended, and balanced his helicopter on a river bank with the tail boom hanging over open water. The patrol could not penetrate to the landing site and he was forced to withdraw. Dangerously low on fuel, Capt. Fleming repeated his original landing maneuver. Disregarding his own safety, he remained in this exposed position. Hostile fire crashed through his windscreen as the patrol boarded his helicopter. Capt. Fleming made a successful takeoff through a barrage of hostile fire and recovered safely at a forward base. Capt. Fleming's profound concern for his fellowmen, and at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty are in keeping with the highest traditions of the U.S. Air Force and reflect great credit upon himself and the Armed Forces of his country. 

 

Sources

1) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_P._Fleming 

2) https://www.thisdayinaviation.com/26-november-1968/ 

3) https://valor.militarytimes.com/recipient/recipient-1626/   (3 separate rescue operations under heavy fire)

Lt Edward Michael MOH

 

Ok, I found a lot of good information on this MOH Recipient.  The author did an outstanding job of summarizing the mission on which the Medal of Honor was earned by Lt Edward S Michael.  I'm not going to summarize it,  too much detail would be lost, so go ahead and read it.  I'll be here when you get back. 

Lt Michael 

Source

 

 

 

A B-17 in trouble, talk about cojones! These guys had them and they clanked when they walked! 

Source

 

 The B-17 was a tough aircraft.  Below is a picture of  Lt Michael's actual aircraft, needless to say she never flew again, but she had done her duty.

 

Source

This is the epitome of “Never Give Up, Never Surrender”.  While that's a line from "Galaxy Quest" a comedy movie, there's a lot of truth in it.  I believe the Lieutenant would have agreed. He followed that statement to the max.

 For that effort, he was awarded the Medal of Honor and received it from President Roosevelt.

Source

 

Citation

The President of the United States of America, in the name of Congress, takes pleasure in presenting the Medal of Honor to First Lieutenant (Air Corps) Edward Stanley Michael, United States Army Air Forces, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving as Pilot of a B-17 aircraft with the 364th Bombardment Squadron, 305th Bombardment Group (H), Eighth Air Force, on a heavy-bombardment mission to Stettin, Germany, 11 April 1944. The group in which First Lieutenant Michael was flying was attacked by a swarm of fighters. His plane was singled out and the fighters pressed their attacks home recklessly, completely disregarding the Allied fighter escort and their own intense flak. His plane was riddled from nose to tail with exploding cannon shells and knocked out of formation, with a large number of fighters following it down, blasting it with cannon fire as it descended. A cannon shell exploded in the cockpit, wounded the copilot, wrecked the instruments, and blew out the side window. First Lieutenant Michael was seriously and painfully wounded in the right thigh. Hydraulic fluid filmed over the windshield making visibility impossible, and smoke filled the cockpit. The controls failed to respond and 3,000 feet were lost before he succeeded in leveling off. The radio operator informed him that the whole bomb bay was in flames as a result of the explosion of three cannon shells, which had ignited the incendiaries. With a full load of incendiaries in the bomb bay and a considerable gas load in the tanks, the danger of fire enveloping the plane and the tanks exploding seemed imminent. When the emergency release lever failed to function, First Lieutenant Michael at once gave the order to bail out and seven of the crew left the plane. Seeing the bombardier firing the navigator’s gun at the enemy planes, First Lieutenant Michael ordered him to bail out as the plane was liable to explode any minute. When the bombardier looked for his parachute he found that it had been riddled with 20-mm. fragments and was useless. First Lieutenant Michael, seeing the ruined parachute, realized that if the plane was abandoned the bombardier would perish and decided that the only chance would be a crash landing. Completely disregarding his own painful and profusely bleeding wounds, but thinking only of the safety of the remaining crewmembers, he gallantly evaded the enemy, using violent evasive action despite the battered condition of his plane. After the plane had been under sustained enemy attack for fully 45 minutes, First Lieutenant Michael finally lost the persistent fighters in a cloud bank. Upon emerging, an accurate barrage of flak caused him to come down to treetop level where flak towers poured a continuous rain of fire on the plane. He continued into France, realizing that at any moment a crash landing might have to be attempted, but trying to get as far as possible to increase the escape possibilities if a safe landing could be achieved. First Lieutenant Michael flew the plane until he became exhausted from the loss of blood, which had formed on the floor in pools, and he lost consciousness. The copilot succeeded in reaching England and sighted an RAF field near the coast. First Lieutenant Michael finally regained consciousness and insisted upon taking over the controls to land the plane. The undercarriage was useless; the bomb bay doors were jammed open; the hydraulic system and altimeter were shot out. In addition, there was no airspeed indicator, the ball turret was jammed with the guns pointing downward, and the flaps would not respond. Despite these apparently insurmountable obstacles, he landed the plane without mishap. 

 A lot more good information can be found here.  On the wings of angels!

 

References

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_S._Michael 

https://valor.militarytimes.com/recipient/recipient-765/ 

https://www.thisdayinaviation.com/tag/edward-stanley-michael/

https://www.cmohs.org/recipients/edward-s-michael 

https://homeofheroes.com/heroes-story/edward-s-michael/ 

https://www.thisdayinaviation.com/11-april-1944/  

By US government/DoD/USAF - https://www.thisdayinaviation.com/tag/edward-stanley-michael/, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=89218343