The Army Marches

Source

Christian was shaving in the yard next to the barn. He had his mirror propped up on a crate and was sitting on one of the camp stools. As he shaved he realized, seeing himself in the mirror, that he looked terrible. Tired and careworn were what crossed his mind. He turned as he heard footsteps.

"Thomas, what is it?"

"It's William, Sir. He's drunk as a Lord, staggering around outside the inn."

Grabbing a towel to get the soap off his face, Christian cleaned himself up as best he could, then donned his jacket. He was wearing the green one, the jackets worn by the Legion's light battalions were identical, which was fortunate. At any rate, he was properly attired, which was more than could be said of a lot of the army.

Different nations now all serving under the Duke had different uniforms, some contingents still wore the same clothing they had worn when serving under the Emperor. He'd heard that some Prussian units were nearly indiscernible from Russian troops. Everyone seemed to be scraping the barrel to fill out the units and clothe them properly.

Thomas pointed ahead and there was William, backed up against a tree at bayonet point. Apparently he'd annoyed someone enough to resort to this.

Christian recognized the bayonet wielder's unit, one of the KGL line units, so he called out to him in German.

"Hey Soldat, schon gut, das ist einer meiner Männer, ein Wagenlenker. Ich werde ihn festnehmen und im Lager bestrafen.¹"

The man turned with a scowl on his face. "One of yours? He doesn't speak a word of German."

"He's an Englishman, I saved his life in the Peninsula. Stopped the bleeding when his arm was shot off. He's been in my employ since the beginning of this campaign."

"Well, Sir, he's been running about, yelling and making a nuisance of himself. So I arrested him and I ..."

Christian had had enough by that point.

"Soldier, you WILL stand at attention when addressing a superior. You WILL NOT question my authority in this matter. Release the man to me otherwise I'll see you flogged!"

The soldier snapped to, "Jawohl, Herr Major. Verzeihen Sie mir bitte.²"

"Quite. Carry on soldier."

The man went off, no doubt grumbling to himself, but one thing Christian knew was that Hanoverian soldiers were well-disciplined and would not hesitate to obey a superior officer. He had taken advantage of that but had felt some shame doing so, the men he was used to leading, riflemen and light infantry, were used to thinking for themselves. So he seldom had to resort to barking at a soldier.

Thomas had William headed back to their camp, Christian shook his head. He'd have to have a word with William about his drinking.

Source

Some five miles south of where the KGL 1st Light had its bivouac, French cavalry were probing northward, all along the frontier from Lille to Maubeuge. Their job was to determine what the Allies and the Prussians had in the way of troops between the border and Brussels.

As May slowly dwindled, Napoléon Bonaparte's attention was fixed to the north. His peace offerings had been rejected and the puppets of the English in Vienna had declared him an outlaw. Fair game for anyone to cut down. If they could get to him.

"A quick victory, Davout, that's what I need." The Emperor barked at the best of his Marshals, Louis-Nicholas Davout.

"Then Belgium is certainly the place to attain it. Our spies indicate that the English cover Brussels to the southwest, maintaining their line of communications back to the Channel at Ostend. The Prussians to the northeast, maintaining their line of communications back to the Rhine. Hit them at this seam," Davout pointed at the map in front of Napoléon, "we can defeat them in detail."

"Ah, but you will be here, in Paris. You're the only man I can trust to keep the capital quiet and compliant. As I told you yesterday, if need be, you may have Tallyrand and Fouché both shot if they look to be assisting the enemy. I trust neither of them, but I need them. For now."

"Understood, Sire."

"Very well, Davout, I leave in three days and hope to be in Brussels within a fortnight."

"So we march?"

"Yes, Thomas, the French are moving, the Prince thinks they will strike the Prussians first as a diversion. So we are to move further east in case the Prussians are the main target for Bonaparte. But not so far that if the Ogre decides to move against the Duke and cut us off from the Channel, we can react to either eventuality."

Christian had gotten out of the habit of calling the French emperor "Napoléon" and now referred to him as most of his German compatriots did, as "Bonaparte," "the Ogre," or "Boney." The troops of the KGL despised the French and their so-called "Emperor." There were still some older soldiers who remembered when the French had overrun Hanover and incorporated it into the so-called "Kingdom of Westphalia" under Bonaparte's younger brother, Jérôme Bonaparte.

There were scores to be settled, most of the men believed, and they were just the men to do it. Thomas waved at him, they were ready to move. As he mounted his horse he had two things on his mind - firstly, the fact that he was not yet clear as to his duties in the battalion, and secondly, Elsbeth. He had forgotten all about her letter until last night.

He had read it reluctantly. There was a war about to start, he was still married, as time went by he realized that he really missed his wife, complaints and all, and of course, she was someone else's wife.

The letter had been warm and friendly, perhaps even a bit flirtatious. His longing for her seemed to increase when he thought about her, knowing full well that there was actually nothing between them. They were friendly towards each other, that was all.

But in the depths of the night, he wondered what it would be like to just run away with her. By morning he realized that that would require abandoning everything he knew and everyone he cared about. Impossible.

"Father! Is it really you?"

Almost asleep in the saddle, Christian had imagined he had heard his son's voice. Then the shout came again and he turned. It was no dream, it was his son Wolfgang.

"Son, what are you ..." that's when Christian noticed the uniform of an ensign in the Hanoverian line.

"You joined the Army, I thought you were at University." He made no pretense at being happy with the fact that his oldest had left college to join the Army.

"And you Father, old enough to know better, here you are as well. You have grandchildren now, why are you in the field? Where is Mother?"

"She is at home, Wolfgang. Forgive my tone, but when I heard Bonaparte had left Elba, I could not stay home. I suppose we are the same in this matter."

"We are Father. I thought you admired Bonaparte?"

"I did, I used to, I don't know, perhaps I still do, but this constant war is his doing. There will be no peace until the man is dead or gone far away."

"Why are you here, by the way?"

"I was delivering dispatches to the Dutch in Nivelles, heard you might be out this way, so I came to see you."

"Heard from who?"

"Why Kurt von Weiding of course, he's a lieutenant colonel now, you know."

"I did not know that, he's still on the Prince's staff, yes?"

"He is, he sends his regards."

"Of course when you return, give him my regards."

"I thought we might spend some time ..."

"No, my boy, you're in the Army now, a staff man. Messages and dispatches don't deliver themselves ya know. I suppose you have a signed receipt for the dispatches you delivered?"

"Well, of course Father ..." Wolfgang von Kaltenweide went pale.

"My commander will no doubt want to know the dispatches were received, I have dispatches for the Prince. Oh, I am neglecting my duties, I must be off."

"Yes son, you must. Be careful out there, all right?"

Turning his horse, Wolfgang shouted back over his shoulder, "I will Father! You take care as well!"

Christian nodded and quietly said to himself, "I will, son. I will." And in a cloud of dust, his oldest child headed back to wherever the Prince of Orange's headquarters was. At least he should be safe there.

¹ Hey soldier, it's alright, that's one of my men. A wagon driver. I'll take him into custody and punish him back at camp.

² Yes Sir, Major. Forgive me please.