The Long March - Where It All Began

(Source)

"Get the troops under canvas tonight, we might be here a couple of days. I want to send out patrols, give the new kids some experience with that. Ya know, hostile environment and all," the Captain mopped his brow, the inside of his cap was soaked with sweat.

The former Corporal, now Sergeant, nodded and asked, "Anything else, boss? Might be a good idea to dig fighting holes around the perimeter, keep those manned while we're here. Also good experience for the kids."

The Major nodded, "Good idea, Top. I'm going to put my head down for a bit, wake me if you need anything."

The Sergeant had taken over the role of sergeant major in the battalion. Regiment had offered one of their superfluous senior non-coms to the Major, he had declined. The man they'd offered had never been in the field, he needed fighters, not paper shufflers. Regiment refused to promote her past sergeant, said she was too young. But the Major called her "Top," for "Top Sergeant" as he considered her the senior non-com in the battalion, and in fact she was.

She looked at her commander, he looked worn and beaten. "Get some sleep, Sir. You look like shit."

The Major offered a sardonic grin, "Thanks Top."

His sleep was fitful. He kept having dreams about the events which led up to his current position, in life, and in the regulars. He awakened in the dead of night.

He sat up, he felt rested, not completely, but enough.

"I might as well get up," he muttered to himself. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice responded.

"Mornin', Sir. Or good evening, I'm not sure."

The Major rubbed his face vigorously before looking at his batman, Joshua.

"Why are you up?" he asked the man. He sometimes forgot that as a commanding officer, a field grade officer at that, he was entitled to his own personal servant. He still wasn't used to it.

"Just cleaning up your kit, Sir. Rubbed down and fed your horse, then fixed my own kit, now I'm finishing up yours."

The Major shook his head, "When do you sleep, man?"

"Here and there, I catch a nap in your wagon when we're on the move. My only job is to assist you, Sir.'

In truth, the army had decided, long ago, that commanding officers had enough on their plates without having to maintain their kit and take care of their own horses. As one general had put it, "Tired officers make mistakes, mistakes kill people. Give them a personal servant, we wouldn't be the first army to do that."

It still bothered the Major that he had a manservant, but it did help him get more rest. Which he appreciated.

Joshua went outside as the Major tried to focus his eyes, he was rested, but damn what he wouldn't give for eight hours in a real bed. As he contemplated that, Joshua came back in, holding a steaming tin cup.

"Like some tea, Sir?"

The Major smiled, "Bless you my boy! Why don't you take a load off, have a cuppa yourself?"

"I couldn't, Sir, I've got to ..."

"If I make it an order?"

"Be right back, Sir."

Joshua went back out and returned with his own tea. The Major gestured at the camp stool next to his field desk, "Sit, you deserve a break."

The two men sat quietly drinking their tea for some time. When the Major was done with his, he got up to go rinse it out.

"I'll do that, Sir."

"Sit, you're not done yet."

The Major rinsed his cup and hung it up on the small cup rack Joshua had rigged outside of the tent. He stood for a moment by the camp fire, the heat felt good. It was still cold at night even though the days were usually warm. Spring in the high country could be a mixed bag, though he was pretty sure the snow was done.

He went back into the tent and sat on his cot, Joshua looked up.

"Sir, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"How the hell did we get here, killing our fellow citizens? It doesn't seem right."

"Well, that's kind of a long story, but we have some time before reveille."

Ten Months Before ...

The Sergeant looked up from his desk as a messenger came running into the barracks. He saw that the man's horse was just outside, lathered, prancing, and tossing its head, the beast had been ridden hard.

He got up and went down the corridor to the Major's office, as he entered the outer office, the Sergeant Major looked up," F**king rioting in the provincial capital, looks like we'll be heading out before sundown. Get your people together, your captain is down at the stables. Let him know what's going on."

Turning on his heel, the Sergeant saw his corporal coming into the building. She had a questioning look on her face.

"Looks like the shit has hit the fan, get the word to our folks, then send word to the other platoons. Muster in 60 minutes, maybe less."

She nodded and headed upstairs where the Sergeant's platoon was quartered. He headed back to his office and grabbed his gear. He had a feeling things were about to get complicated.

The Ruler had been deposed, under rather questionable circumstances, the year before. He had been very popular among the common folk, the new Ruler was not. The elites liked him for the patronage and the sinecures that went with that. They had never been so well-off.

But there was an undercurrent of unrest in the working population, the people who had to get up each day and do the jobs that kept the country going. In order to pay for the wealth flowing to the elites, taxes had been raised, work hours had been increased, and there was talk of lowering wages.

The final insult was when the constabulary in the provincial capital closed down the newspaper for "printing treasonous lies," according to the governor. The people had rioted and two of the constabulary were killed, dozens more were injured. At least fifty of the common folk had been cut down in the street.

Word had come down from the national capital, "Crush the dissenters, get your province in order." The Governor was forced to act, so he did.

Rumor had it that a gathering was taking place in the second largest town in the province, the militia there had been called to arms, not by the government but by the people themselves.

The regulars were called out, the Governor ordered the generals to "seize the town, arrest any who oppose you, and seize all arms." A simmering powder keg was about to erupt.

The Captain was leading his horse, he preferred to be on foot with his men, only mounting to go up to battalion or up to regiment, which was rare.

"Sir, you really should ride, all the other company commanders ride," the Sergeant admonished his commander for at least the third time this day.

"Man's gotta stay fit, Sarge. Riding is fine for the fancy folk, probably don't want to get their boots dirty."

"Sir, you have a batman ..."

"You're right! Ethan! Get over here!"

The Captain's batman hustled over, "Sir?"

"Get on the horse, Ethan. You work your ass off taking care of me, you should ride."

The Sergeant shook his head. Ethan, grinning from ear to ear, mounted the horse, which not being used to him, pranced a bit before settling down.

Ethan raised his arm as if about to give a command, standing up in the stirrups he shouted, "Soldiers!"

His eyes suddenly went blank and he doubled over, toppling from the horse into the road. The crack of a rifle shot echoed through the nearby hills.

The Captain grabbed the reins of his horse, the animal was rolling its eyes and trying to rear up, "Easy boy, easy."

The Sergeant stopped staring at Ethan's corpse long enough to shout, "AMBUSH! Take cover to the right!"

As the platoon scrambled over the edge of the road into a slight ditch, more rifle shots could be heard. The Captain let his horse go, the animal, unused to combat, ran off as the company commander slid into the ditch next to his sergeant.

"Damn it, Ethan was a good kid."

The Sergeant shook his head as he scanned the nearby hillside. Damn, the militia had actually dug an entrenchment. "I know he was, Sir. A lot of good kids are going to die today. Looks like the militia want a war."

The Captain nodded, "Well, they've got one now."