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Praetorium Honoris

Thursday, July 6, 2023

Aftermath

(Source)
The Emperor sat his horse, stunned, too stunned to move. Eventually Général De la Bédoyère got Napoléon's attention.

"Sire, we must get you away from here."

The Emperor nodded in disbelief, the attack by the Guard should have clinched the issue. Did Ney blunder again? Where was Grouchy? Turning to Maréchal Soult he said, "Still no word from Grouchy?"

"No, Sire, not a word." Soult braced himself for the Emperor's expected outburst. Nothing.

The Emperor looked pale and unsure of himself, for many around him, it was the first time they had seen him in such a mood. Even during the retreat from Russia, Napoléon tried to emanate confidence. Now that was gone.

The Emperor's aides managed to guide and lead him to a square of the Old Guard Grenadiers.


Capitaine Joseph Martin was limping badly as he led his men back across the bridge where he had been hit by a ricochet. The battalion surgeon had examined him and told him that it was probably some mortar or a brick from the bridge which had injured him, "Had it been a ball, you would not have that leg now."

Sergent Louis Malheur was keeping an eye on his captain, the man was too ready to rush headlong into combat. He looked at Caporal Hervé Deschamps who nodded, then yelled out, "Skirmishers, to me!"

Martin was startled as his men rushed past him, he wanted to go forward with them, but knew he couldn't, not on his bad leg.

Word had come down from battalion that the Prussians had pulled back in the night, having their flank turned down towards Limal had unhinged their position along the Dyle. So they had been ordered forward to prevent the Prussians sneaking back in during the small hours of the morning.

Malheur looked at his captain, "Smells like victory, Sir."

Martin saw the Prussian and French corpses strewn along the street, he shook his head, "It smells like something, Sergent."


Generalleutnant Johann von Thielmann watched as his corps fell back to the next defensible position, which in reality would be just to the east of Brussels. At the very least he could rejoin the main army under Blücher.

As he watched the rear guard cavalry charge at a French unit, he heard a commotion behind him. Turning his horse, he snapped at Clausewitz, "What is the meaning of ..." He noticed that Clausewitz was grinning from ear to ear.

"Herr Generalleutnant, a message from the Field Marshal himself, the Corsican Ogre has been defeated, his army flees even as we speak."

Thielmann took the message, read it, then he too began to smile.

"Have the men stop falling back. We stand here. Soon the French will know that their Emperor has been defeated. I will sacrifice no more men today, if I can help it."

Even as he watched, the French pursuit began to slow, then stop, then began to retreat southwards.

"Shall we pursue, Sir?"

"No, let the old man¹ have that honor. We shall proceed in good time."


The men were in a sullen mood as they fell back from Wavre. Martin had no words to boost their morale. With the Emperor defeated, with his wing of the army shattered, there was no hope that he could see.

The Prussians were not pursuing, which was the only good news that day. For the first time in the campaign, Maréchal de Grouchy began to move with decisiveness and alacrity.

All that was left was to withdraw into France, regroup with I and II Corps and the Garde. Perhaps a stand before Paris was likely.

Joseph Martin resolved to leave the army at his first opportunity. Back to his farm, back to his wife and child. The Emperor was ruined.




¹ Generalfeldmarschall von Blücher.

18 comments:

  1. The door has slammed shut and there's only the dead and victors left on the battlefield. Darn good wordsmithing Sarge.

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  2. The reality of the dice throw is that there are winners and losers. The demoralization after such an event must be exactly as you have written, Sarge. Excellent work.

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    1. To come so close, then fail. Heartbreaking that is.

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  3. The emotions put me in mind of the final scene in "The Duellists" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0U42GtADJo8

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    1. I love that movie, the soundtrack, the story, the acting, it's all good. Based loosely on a true story by the way ...

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    2. Fantastic movie. On a shoestring budget.

      https://youtu.be/i_q5uiut1fM

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    3. I've watched it at least five times. Might be time to watch it again.

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  4. A farm, a wife and a child would be looking mighty fine - if you can keep them.
    BG

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  5. Gulp, and it's over. But I wanted ... I haven't thought about the week I was discharged for a half-century. Inspiring writing, Sarge. Get the paperwork all in a row (how fast it was!) and out the main gate gate, blinking at the sun. What now? There's a gap ... Gunny Hill? This is a whole new world.

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    1. I remember that day myself. Twenty-four years and then, "What next?"

      Now I know, and another twenty-four years seems to have passed in an instant. I'm close to the "What next?" question again.

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  6. Well done, Sarge. This brings to mind the words of a great American General, speaking of his profession, and the cost of war, addressing those at the beginning of their careers. It is a moving address to read, and haunting when you listen to the old warrior deliver it in his slow, measured, and reflective tones.

    I have read and listened to this repeatedly over my own time in uniform and since, and highly recommend it to anyone seeking to understand the profession of arms, and the ethos of the best of the American military profession.

    General of the Army Douglas MacArthur at the U.S. Military Academy, May 12, 1962; with both test and audio:
    https://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/douglasmacarthurthayeraward.html

    John Blackshoe

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    1. I remember hearing that as a wee lad, shortly after my 9th birthday. The line I remember most, which has stuck with me for many years is this one -

      In my dreams I hear again the crash of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the battlefield.

      A moving speech.

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  7. Crusty Old TV Tech here. Even though I am not counted amongst the fans of Le Tondu, this final episode brings a sadness, an inelucidable bit of melancholy in the reading. Good writing, invoking the ghost of victories past, and defeats present. And the quote above from Gen McArthur also brings melancholy thoughts, that we no longer have his like amongst us any more, nor Gen's Eisenhower, Bradley, Power, LeMay, "Bomber" Harris...

    In my dreams of late, to paraphrase McArthur, I hear again the shriek of cart starts, the whine of J-57's, the strange, mournful sound of a MITO in progress...and then the dull roaring whine of Oshkosh plows and brooms, clearing the active on another cold Mohawk Valley night. Other nights, it's the dull clatter of a Kleinschmidt machine, the hum of the blowers in the old KWT-6, the squeal of the crypto alarm blaring its messsage of dreary insistence into the night. It's just a dream, wisps of thought separated in time and space from reality. Our once vivid reality, in the Brotherhood of Air Arms.

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    1. I hear some of those same sounds in my dreams, only the engines are J79s.

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