Sunday, April 7, 2024

Just Over There

PxHere
The men were nervous, the sergeant could see that as he walked the line. They were shifting their weight from one foot to the other, looking around nervously, off in the distance could be heard the rattle and thump of enemy drums.

So far no cannon though, for that the sergeant was truly grateful.

As he drew close to the lieutenant, the sergeant could tell that the young officer was also nervous, very nervous, and that was communicating itself to the men.

When he walked up behind the lieutenant, the sergeant leaned in close, "Act bored, Sir. Yer makin' the men nervous."

The lieutenant blinked, the sergeant's voice had been so low, that the officer wasn't sure if he was being spoken to. But the sergeant noticed that the lieutenant nodded, then yawned.

"Sarge, think those bastards will ever get off their asses over there? Or did we skip breakfast for nothing?"

"Well, Sir, probably trying to get the nerve up to come pay us a visit. Always easier to stand and wait then to move forward. Least, that's what I reckon."

A couple of men nearby grinned, one even laughed out loud.

"Are we amusing you, Private?" the sergeant snapped.

The man mumbled, "No Sarge, sorry Sarge." But the smile stayed on his face.

The men relaxed, one or two were still looking a little jumpy but their mates were telling them to calm down. The company settled down nicely, the sergeant thought.

The lieutenant is green, but the boy catches on right quick, he thought to himself as he turned and walked back down to the left flank.


The staff officer's horse slid to a stop, kicking up gravel and dirt onto the waiting column of men. As the colonel stood up to chastise the man, the staff officer barked out, "Artillery took the wrong fork, Colonel. Your brigade has to go in as is."

The colonel shook his head, "No support? Do the fellows across the way have cannon? Or cavalry?"

As the staff officer pulled his mount's head around to head back to the division commander, he shouted out, "Just infantry, we think!" Then he was gone, back the way he came.

"SARN'T MAJOR!" the colonel bellowed.

"SIR!"

"Battalion commanders to me, tell the commander of the lights that I'll want his boys in the lead."

"SIR!"

The colonel shook his head, what had started as a nice, simple advance was quickly turning into a mess.


The sergeant stopped, he could perceive the trembling of the ground, many men on foot were coming this way. The last few days had been wet, so there was no dust being kicked up across the way, nothing to see, only feel.

Many of the men wouldn't notice, the old hands would, but this battalion was newly raised. In his company he was the only man with multiple campaigns under his belt. If this new war hadn't started, he'd probably have retired. But what would he do, soldiering was all he knew. He'd been with the colors since he was twelve years old.

He walked out a good hundred yards from the line, it got him away from the chatter, the men shifting, the gear clattering, the thousand and one sounds of an army waiting to go into action.

It was quieter here, then he saw it, just at the horizon, to the right of a stand of trees. Had to be an officer on horseback, coming forward to take a peek at what was before him. No doubt there was infantry behind him, lots of infantry from the noise which was just becoming perceptible. The clatter of equipment, the barks of the sergeants and officers keeping the troops in position and moving forward. The tramp of footsteps, thousands of them.

Turning, he walked unhurriedly back to the line. The lieutenant came out to meet him, good man.

"I can hear them Sarge, infantry, yes?"

"Yes, Sir. Lots of infantry, I saw a mounted officer, probably taking a look at us and the terrain. But, there is good news."

"There is?" the young officer swallowed nervously as he looked across the field.

"No cannon, no cavalry, they'd be up front if they had them. I think this is their advance guard, probing as it were."

"Anything we should do? If it was up to me, I'd put skirmishers in those trees on the left."

"Well, Sir, your instincts are good. Have a runner go back to brigade and see if we should move up there."

"Us?"

"Well, Sir, you see anybody else? The rest of the division should be up shortly, but for now, it's just us, one company, seventy-eight men."

The lieutenant's eyes glazed over as he stared at the trees. Would that be where he died? Was this his last day?

"Lieutenant?"

"Right!" the officer ran back to the company, scribbled a quick note on a scrap of message pad and handed it to the duty runner.

"Get back to the colonel, quick as you can. Enemy infantry to our front, at least a brigade. I'm going to move the company forward as skirmishers into those trees yonder." he pointed as he said this.

"Now go, man, and quickly. Find us in the woods when you return."

"Sir!"


"Well, damn it! There was infantry there not fifteen minutes ago!"

The colonel swept his glass across the field, there had been infantry there, a battalion maybe. Now they were gone. Had they fallen back? Was he facing a rear guard or was he stumbling into something much bigger? No one at division seemed to have a bloody clue.

"Major!"

The commander of the light infantry battalion turned and walked his mount over to colonel.

"I want your boys in loose order, send a company into that wood lot on the right. The enemy was here, I think they pulled back."

"Sir!"

As the major of light infantry got his battalion in motion, the colonel looked to the rear. His other three battalion commanders were approaching. He had the idea to probe forward with his lights, supported by the line. If he hit anything too big to handle, he'd fall back, otherwise he'd see how things developed.

"Looks like a meeting engagement, eh Colonel?"

"How so, Major?" His senior battalion commander was a bit fussy before the shots began to fly, but he would settle down once the action began.

"I see no formed troops, I think we perhaps bumped into them, doubt they were expecting us. Otherwise there'd be cannon, right?"

"Just so." the colonel nodded then briefed the three commanders on what he wanted.

As they rejoined their units, just now coming onto the field, the colonel heard sporadic gunfire from the wood lot. Sounded like the light boys had found something.

Time to find out where the rest of the army was, things here might ripen quickly depending on how many enemy were nearby.

"Sarn't Major, send a messenger back to division." As he said this he was scribbling on his message pad. When he was done he tore it off, the messenger, mounted, was waiting for it.

"Let them know we have infantry to our front, no cannon or horse that I can see. I am advancing to develop the situation, I'm in contact on my right with what sounds like light infantry skirmishers. Now off with you lad, ride hard!"

"Sir."

The sergeant major's quiet voice was more frightening than his parade ground voice. It certainly got your attention. He looked at the man and followed his arm out to where he was pointing. Men coming back from the woods, some stumbling, a small party was carrying someone.

He spurred his horse in that direction, as he reined in, he saw a bloodied form begin carried in a blanket. It was the commander of his light battalion.

"Bastards waited until we was within spittin' range, Sir. Major didn't stand a chance, him and his horse, went down hard. The Cap'n's leading the fight now, boys are pissed, but we're takin' it in the teeth, Colonel. We need more men."

"Leave the Major here, I'll have the surgeon look at him." Through long experience, the colonel could see that the major was gone, probably never knew what hit him.

"SARN'T MAJOR!"

Turning his mount, he could see that his senior noncom was already bringing up another company of light infantry, at the double. He looked for their officer, a captain, rather old looking fellow.

"Captain! Pitch into that fight up ahead, I'll maneuver another company onto their flank, push them hard, Captain. Do you hear me, hard!"

"Will do." Then the man turned to his company, drawing his sword, "Let's pitch in lads!"

Off they went, into the rising clamor in the woods.

With nothing more to do for the moment, the colonel watched the situation develop. He pulled out his time piece, then checked the angle of the sun, early yet.

"It's gonna be a long day, Sir."

Snapping his time piece shut, he nodded at the sergeant major.

"Indeed Willie, a long day."

It always made the Sergeant Major nervous when the colonel called him by name.

Meant things were serious indeed.



26 comments:

  1. More fiction for an early morning airline stop! Yay!

    We take knowing everything all at once for granted. For most of history, this story is how most things probably seeemed.

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    1. I try to keep things a bit vague and mysterious. That way no one can say, "Ah, I know this battle, I know what happens next."

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  2. My thanks to your Muse Sarge, fine flow today.

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  3. Wellington ordered his officers to 'feign indifference' if they were under fire and Clausewitz said 'survival is a virtue in a private but the officer must provide gallant example, stride the parapet as if unafraid or go down with his ship'.
    Retired

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    1. Sound advice, want the troops to be nervous, act nervous.

      No doubt that is why Lord Nelson wore all his decorations at Trafalgar, to set an example.

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    2. All decorations won in battle to be worn in battle.
      Retired

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    3. And Francis Drake on being informed of the sighting of the Spanish Armada when playing bowls. 'Plenty of time to finish the game".

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    4. (Don McCollor) (as was the previous 'Anonymous'). [The site is being difficult]. It was ebb tide, and the English Fleet could not put to sea for a couple hours anyway. No need to appear excited or panicked.

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  4. Good story! I can feel it...
    Have a good Sunday...

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  5. Message pads? What is the history of those? My impression was that even in the Civil War, most tactical communications were basically relayed verbally, not in written form. But, formal message pads- maybe not until WW1period? Enquiring minds want to know.

    Take a message for the Muse- "Tell Sarge he must be feeling better. Continue on present mission. Readers approve. Consider future options carefully before engaging. Be sure you are right then press ahead."
    John Blackshoe

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    1. Second your last paragraph, JB! Though selfishly, I'm OK with Sarge rushing headlong if his blood is up. Charlie Mike, Sarge.
      As for message pads, dunno when they came in, about the same time as telegraphs? Semaphore? Those mirror devices used like flashing light?
      We have mounted officers drawing swords but that could go all the way to the end of the 19th century, perhaps even later. Arty and Cav, but no mention of Infantry weapons save a lack of machine guns. Hmmmm...
      Boat Guy

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    2. One note; I have seen message "flimsy's" from WWI.
      BG.

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    3. JB - Now adding "formal" to the phrase might make it an anachronism, don't think standard message formats and the like. It's simply a pad of paper used to write out messages. Preferred form was to write it out then tell the messenger your intent. The guy on the other end, in combat and probably excited, might not understand the writing (or maybe can't read it) and want clarification from the messenger. Also you'd want to send more than one guy, that one if one doesn't make it ...

      Also, light cavalrymen were used as messengers for obvious reasons. They typically carried a sabretache (starting in the early 18th Century) which started as a simple pouch but grew more formalized. The later versions could be used much like a clipboard, a flat surface upon which one could write. One of their functions was to hold messages.

      At Waterloo, the Duke of Wellington sent a message written on lambskin (as I recall) to the Colonel commanding the troops garrisoning Hougoumont detailing what the Duke could see and his intentions for the holding of that place.

      Verbal messages were only used if that was the only way possible, too easily forgotten, scrambled, even completely forgotten in the heat of battle.

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    4. BG - Careful now, using terms like semaphore and telegraph mean different things in different eras. Napoléon had the Chappe telegraph which was a mechanical device which used the positioning of its "arms" to send messages across many miles given good weather and visibility. Semaphore can be flashing lights or a guy waving flags.

      A pad need not be a formal thing.

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    5. BG - Yes, message flimsy, a very British thing as I recall. Not just a piece of paper but one with blocks to be filled out in a particular way, for standardization.

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  6. I see historians say that "messages" were passed in our Revolution. (And dropped from aircraft in WW1.) Your Muse seems to have been awakened, to good result.

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    1. Messages have been passed in the military probably since paper was invented.

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  7. Look up "The Dropped Orders" aka Special Order 191. Simple orders, say to a battalion or company might not have been written down, More complex orders, say to regimental or larger, e.g. "Have 2 of your battalions form on the left of the center, refuse one on the left flank, and hold one in reserve, ready to support either your flank or the center" might well be written down for clarity. Also, given the distances involved in that type of warfare, some division or regimental commanders might not be at a meeting, and so orders would have to be passed.

    I'll be switched if i can find it now, but there was a site that sold reproductions of order/dispatch pads for reenactors.

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    1. Most armies had their own system for sending and receiving messages and dispatches. Battlefield orders, within the sound of the commander's voice, or the sound of the drums, wouldn't be written down. But reports as to what was going on back to higher echelons should indeed be written down.

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  8. Very interesting. OAFS is teasing us again with not giving info on much equipment so we have to guess who, what, where...

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