On to Vienna

Le maréchal Davout sur le champ de bataille.
Jacques Onfroy de Bréville
(Source)

When the 2nd battalion of the 33ème Régiment d'lnfanterie de Ligne debouched from the rolling hills north of the Danube, most of the men were ready for a rest. But as they got closer to the river, there was their Maréchal, sitting his horse with his staff nearby. They knew that rest was not forthcoming, no doubt they would be marching farther before the day was done.

Sergent Alexandre Bataille and Caporal Gautier Poulin were marching at the front of the company column, just behind Lieutenant Lemoine. With the Lieutenant were the company's two drummers. Capitaine Gérôme Deschanel and Sergent-major Jean-Pierre Lecomte weren't marching with their company at the moment, they were near the head of the column with Chef-de-bataillon¹ Didier Pierlot.

For the moment Lemoine was commanding the company, something he aspired to one day. He had a smile on his face which Bataille noticed, and commented on.

"You seem very content mon Lieutenant, is there a reason?"

"Why yes, my dear Sergent Bataille, the sun is shining and the day is mild. Though we have been marching for a solid ten hours, the company isn't straggling. I am very content."

"And the Chef isn't here to complain ..."

Lemoine turned to give Bataille a look, "There are times, Bataille, when you overstep the proper bounds of military discipline."

"Ah yes Lieutenant, this is one of those days. My apologies, but as you say, the sun is shining and the day is mild. And as far as I can see, there is no possibility of enemy contact today. Unless the Austrians are hiding in the Danube itself."

Lemoine shook his head, Bataille loved to get his goat, he was also very good at it. At least the man had the common sense to keep it light-hearted. When he was newly-commissioned he had had a sergent who had been on him constantly.

At first he had resented it, then the Sergent-major at the time had taken him aside and explained, "Don't take it personally young Sir, Montagne's last two officers were shot down in front of him. He has resolved never to lose another lieutenant. So he rides you, to keep you alive."

That sergent, Yves Montagne, had died at Marengo, when an Austrian cannon ball had taken his head. Though he had died, the lessons he had passed along to Lemoine had kept the lieutenant alive. Now he was resolved to pass those lessons along to his own men. Bataille, though something of an odd character, was helping him in that task.

French Infantry Company Organization
(Source)

Maréchal Louis-Nicholas Davout watched as another of his battalions came down onto the riverine plain. He for one was glad to be out of those damned wooded hills.

Taking his spectacles off, he carefully cleaned them before putting them away. He knew the Emperor didn't like him wearing them during battle, but he liked to examine his units on the march, the spectacles helped him see the details more clearly. He firmly believed that strict discipline would keep his men alive. Even if they did occasionally chafe under his leadership.

"Friant, is that the 33rd coming up?"

Général de Division Louis Friant thought briefly that if the man had left his spectacles on long enough, he would have been able to tell for himself which regiment was marching up. But he knew better than to irk Davout. The man seemed to have no sense of humor at all. He also seemed particularly distracted today.

"Yes Sir, that is the 33rd."

"Have they fixed their desertion problem?" Davout forgot nothing when it came to the care and maintenance of III Corps.

"They haven't lost a man since you had two of them shot."

"Good."

As the 33rd drew near, Davout recognized the commander of the regiment's 1st Battalion.

"Pierlot! I trust you have your rascals in line!"

Chef-de-bataillon Pierlot looked up with some embarrassment, it did not do much for one's career for the corps commander to point out one's unit's weaknesses.

"Yes Maréchal, my lads are in fine fettle!" Taking a chance, Pierlot continued.

"Where are we bound, Sir? Will the white mice ever stop to fight?"

Davout smiled briefly, "On to Vienna, if the Austrians won't fight, I'm sure the Russians will. I'm told they're moving this way. Does that satisfy your damned curiosity Pierlot?"

"Yes Sir, it does." Turning to his battalion, Pierlot had the men raise a cheer. Expecting the usual 'Vive L'Empereur,' he was startled to hear the men bellow out ...

"Vive le Maréchal Davout! Vive L'Empereur! En avant!! Vive la France!!"

Davout nodded, he was confident of these men, they would march hard and fight harder.

(Source)
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¹ Battalion commander, a position title and a rank, equivalent to Major.