The Opening Moves

(Source)

Capitaine Joseph Martin walked next to his company Sergent-major, Alphonse Juin. This countryside was so familiar to him, as it should be, he had grown up in this area. His little farm wasn't but two leagues from where he walked with his men.

He wondered if his wife would ever speak to him again? She had been angry when he had left to rejoin his emperor. His father had assured him that she would forgive him, eventually. Provided, of course, he came back alive and in one piece.

The preceding days had passed in a muddle of orders and counter-orders. His unit had sat idly by the road when units from an entirely different corps had begun to pass through their bivouac.

"What is this? Where are you men bound?" He had inquired of another captain on the road.

"Fourth Corps, why haven't you people moved yet? The sun has been up for an hour now."

Martin's Third Corps had indeed received no orders, General Vandamme, the corps' commander, was still asleep in his headquarters when elements of Gérard's Fourth Corps began to pass through his area.

Vandamme had been awakened and had been furious, "What is that fool Soult up to? Why have we received no orders? Damn it, Capitaine Auger, get the men up and moving while I try to figure out what the Hell is going on."

Once things had been straightened out, they were trying to hustle up the roads towards Charleroi to make up for lost time. But one did not try to move 16,000 men along the same routes being clogged up by the men of another corps.

Martin looked over at his men, they seemed happy to be moving forward. 

"Alphonse."

"Oui, mon capitaine?"

"The men are in good spirits, aren't they? They seem to have a spring in their step, an eagerness, don't you think?"

Sergent-major Juin looked at the men, most of them seemed a bit put out for setting out late, and without having had a chance to make breakfast. He rolled his eyes before looking back at this new captain with his silly Belgian accent.

The captain had been assigned to this company in mid-May, Juin hadn't had much of a chance to get a feel for the man yet. But to Juin, he seemed a bit over-eager.

"Yes Sir, the men seem fine. Too bad we couldn't have had breakfast this morning, but the boys will get their cooking pots out at midday I suppose. We'll have time to prepare rations then, right Sir?"

Martin was looking at a windmill in the distance, that had to be near Marchienne he thought. "What's that Sergent-major?"

"Food, Sir. The men are hungry, I know I could use a bit of biscuit or something myself right now."

"I'm sure the Emperor will have thought of that, Juin. For now we march!"

Juin shook his head, "Oui, mon capitaine." 

Privates Will Thomas and Jack MacKenzie had their eyes on a couple of chickens pecking in the dirt near their bivouac. Though they'd eaten breakfast that morning, they were still hungry. Army rations, though good, weren't always plentiful.

Neither man could really remember the hardscrabble existence they'd led before joining the army. All they knew was they were hungry right now, and who knows if they'd be eating again today. Rumor had it that Boney was on the move and that their regiment might be moving up soon.

"Right lads, eyes off the poultry. You do know that looting is a hanging offense, right?"

Captain Morris McGilvery had seemed to emerge from nowhere just as the two lads had convinced themselves that no one would miss one of those chickens.

"Of course, Sir, we was just thinking about it, that's all, Sir. No harm in thinking, is there Sir?" MacKenzie had protested.

"Mind you don't act on those thoughts now. I'd hate to see ya swinging from a tree, don't ye know?"

"Sir, we wouldn't like that either, Sir." Thomas had agreed with his officer.

"Right then laddies, best be getting your kit in shape. I've a feeling we'll be in action soon."

"Really Sir, are the rumors true, Sir?" MacKenzie seemed about to continue on when McGilvery stopped him with a raised hand.

"Don't be listening to rumors, Mac. We just go where the Duke and old Tom Picton tell us to go. No need to gi' yersel a headache with thinking too much. Right laddie?"

"Of course, Sir, right you are!"

After the captain had moved on Thomas looked at MacKenzie, "Maybe them chickens laid some eggs nearby?"

MacKenzie shook his head, "Ye're daft, if I'm to be hanged it'll be for a whole chicken, not just the bleeding eggs!"

Michel Ney approached the Emperor carefully, though he was furious that he had been recalled to the army this late in the game, he was also somewhat nervous. If Napoléon was to fail, he doubted Louis would forgive his changing sides. So they must not fail.

"You sent for me, Sire?"

Napoléon looked up from his maps, he seemed distracted. "Yes Ney, it seems that Gérard and Vandamme have made a muddle of things. But I'll sort that out. The Prussians are here."

As Ney looked at the map and saw where the Emperor was pointing, he spoke, "How can I help, Sire?"

"Yes, yes, yes, now pay attention Ney. I want you to take Reille's corps in hand along with Kellerman's cavalry. Advance along this axis." Napoléon again pointed at the map, Ney noted that the Emperor was pointing at a small crossroads, Quatre Bras from what he could see.

"While I crush the Prussians, I want you to take the crossroads here so that the English won't be a danger to my left flank. I will also give you the corps of d'Erlon. But I expect you to send them down this road, the one leading to Sombreffe, while you drive les Anglais away from the crossroads, d'Erlon will come in behind the Prussians. Is that clear, Ney?"

"Yes, Sire, very clear. Am I to command then, your left wing?"

"Yes, yes, now go. I have to make sure Soult sends out the right orders. He has confused things, but there is still time to make it right!"

Ney hesitated, Napoléon noticed and snapped, "Why are you still here, Ney? Activity, speed, now go, get your troops moving!"

The board is set, the pieces are in play.

The clouds of war gather on the horizon.