Sur la Route¹ ...

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"How is the arm, Sir?"

The lieutenant, who had his injured arm in a sling, glared at his sergeant, "Still bloody hurts, Sarge. That whiskey tasted better than it felt."

"Did you have the regimental surgeon take a look at it?"

"Yes, it's probably why it hurts. He cleaned the wound and wasn't real gentle about it. Called me an idiot for not coming in right away."

"Did he not understand that we were a bit, ya know, busy?"

The lieutenant grinned, then a shadow crossed his face.

"I hated burying Guns out here, no marker, nothing to mark his passing. Nothing to mark his time here on earth. Did he have family?"

"No, he was an enfant de troupe². His father died on campaign when he was thirteen, he never really knew his mother, she died when he was an infant. He was in the army his whole life, knew nothing outside of it. He's on the regimental rolls, that's how he'll be remembered."

"I think we should have put up a marker ..."

"Sir, we invaded this country, if we lose, do you think the inhabitants won't desecrate his grave?"

The lieutenant shook his head, "I know, Sergeant, I know."

The colonel snapped his glass shut, shaking his head in disgust.

"Why is my brigade just sitting here, watching the enemy?"

The division commander understood his subordinate's frustration. The man's brigade had fought well, though it had been roughly handled by the enemy. How could he make the man see that there was more to war than what he could see before him?

"Because the Corps commander wishes it, Colonel. That's all you and I really need to know. While the enemy forces across the way have been drawn down to a minimum, some of them must remain to keep an eye on us. The main fight won't be here, while this road does lead to the capital, it goes through some very inhospitable terrain. Your job here is important, though it doesn't seem like it."

The colonel huffed, "I understand that, Sir, but I don't have to like it."

"No, you do not." the Corps commander said, with a certain degree of ice in his voice.

"I have plenty of battalion commanders, Colonel. Many of them will rise no further, you, on the other hand, have proven you can handle a brigade in combat. Whether or not you advance beyond that remains to be seen."

The colonel's face turned pale, "Sir? Have I not done all that is required of me?"

"You have. You are not a junior officer anymore, surely you must be able to see the bigger picture, the situation beyond your brigade?"

"It's hard, Sir, I take my boys into action, I see them suffer and die. Then we fall back, only to do it over and over again on some other field, in some other battle. Where does it end?"

"When you die, Colonel, only then."

The Corps commander looked across the way, "Ah, finally, they are pulling back their guns, all I see are a few troops of cavalry."

The colonel, feeling somewhat foolish, had to ask, "Unless you have another mission for us, Sir, I'll keep my men here until daybreak. After that, where will you want us?"

The general nodded, then turned to an aide, who handed him a map. Pointing to the map, he said, "When you are satisfied that the enemy is truly gone, march to join us here."

The colonel nodded, "As you wish, my General."

The sergeant turned and watched as another troop of cavalry joined the rear guard behind them. He was glad to be moving away from this place, they had done their jobs. Of course, the cost was too high, as it always was.

"Ah, shit," one of the men in the ranks muttered when the first drops of rain fell.

The sergeant thought to say something, then realized that the troops were going to bitch about anything and everything whether he liked it or not. Though it had been a while, he remembered when he was a private himself, he had been known throughout the regiment as a first-class complainer. Ah well, I guess we all "grow up" some day.

"Sarge?"

He turned, "What is it, Gaston?"

"Where are we going?"

A reasonable question, the sergeant thought, one for which he had no answer.

"Wherever the boss wants us to go, that's where. When he tells me, I'll let you know," he grinned as he said that.

One of the other soldiers quipped, "What? You don't know everything, Sergeant?"

"Far from it, lad, far from it. Now shut up and march. I have the feeling the boss will be making war with our legs tonight, the more distance we can cover, the happier he'll be."

Most of the men near him groaned, though they were used to this, they still didn't like it.

"Would you rather the enemy surrenders to us because we're in his rear? Eating his food, enjoying the fat of his countryside? Or would you prefer to slug it out at musket range?"

No one had an answer to that!

¹ On the road ...

² A "child of the regiment," (literally "child of the troop"). Born to a camp follower or perhaps even the wife of a soldier, raised in the army, sometimes in barracks, often in the field. Many of these boys were orphaned at an early age and became drummers or musicians in the regiments their forebears had been in. Later, when of age, they would be soldiers themselves. The army was the only life they knew.

Out of the Forest

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The armorer and the men given to him came to the edge of the wood, to their right, quite a ways off, they could see cannon firing.

"Ours?" one of the men asked.

"Yes, those are our boys. Question is, where are those fellows meant to flank us?"

"Guns, there are men out there in the long grass, hunkered down. D'ya see 'em?"

"Where away, boyo?"

The private pointed, trying not to be too obvious about it. Though they were back in the trees, anyone out in the field looking in the right direction might notice the movement of a man's arm.

"Right lad, I see 'em. Looks like the enemy flankers are stuck in the open. Probably afraid to attract attention from our batteries."

"What if we open fire on 'em, Guns?"

"There's only six of us lad, what if those bastards figure that out and rush us?"

"Then our artillery might see them and ..."

"Yeah, they 'might' see 'em." One of the other soldiers chimed in.

"We'll sit tight for now. They're not a threat at the moment."

"We can't stay here forever, Cap'n." The light infantry sergeant sounded concerned, with good reason.

The company commander said nothing. When the artillery had started firing, not at them but at their supports, he had ordered his company to ground. The grass was very long here, which provided good concealment from the artillery, but no protection.

Part of him wanted to order his troops into the nearby tree line, but that was a good 200 paces away. Moving would attract undue attention, especially as it seemed the enemy artillery were unopposed. He'd noticed no counter-battery fire nor any attempt by his own army to silence those guns. What the hell was going on back there?

"We can stay here as long as no one notices us, Sergeant. We move, I don't like the odds."

The sergeant was silent, he didn't like being pinned down, but he didn't like being under cannon fire either. For now he'd bear it.

The armorer turned as he heard men moving up behind him, it was the lieutenant and the rest of the company.

"Good to see you, Sir. What's the word?"

"The rest of the division is up, but the army commander has ordered us to hold in place. He doesn't want to bring on a general engagement at this time."

Behind the lieutenant, the armorer saw the sergeant shrug, as if to say, I don't like it either.

"Well Sir, what about those fellows out there?"

"Colonel says drive 'em off."

Turning to look at the company, he could see that the men had all taken up firing positions near the edge of the wood.

"Sergeant."

"Prepare to fire!" The sergeant bellowed in order for all of the men to hear him. "FIRE!"

"Damn it, Sir, we're spotted ..." The rest of the armorer's comment was lost in the blast of musket fire.

The men in the field weren't in any immediate danger, most of them remained unseen, the enemy in the woods were firing at where they thought the enemy was. But one or two balls managed to find a body.

A second volley managed to hit no one, but the threat was there, and the men in the field felt their luck running out.

"Let's get outta here fellas!" One man sprang to his feet and began to run, a ragged volley threw him down into the tall grass, but it had been enough. What was left of the light company began to run.

"Let's get at 'em boys!" One of the men in the woods shouted as he jumped to his feet. In the next instant he was on his butt rubbing his jaw.

"None of that shite, stand and keep firing!"

The sergeant had been stunned to see the lieutenant punch the soldier in the mouth when the  fellow had jumped up and had tried to lead a charge. If the young'un stayed alive, he'd make a great commander some day.

The sergeant got up and began pacing the line, controlling the men's volleys. "Damn that eagerness, Hartschank, load and fire, load and fire. Obey your training boy!"

Eventually the survivors of the enemy light company, much reduced, were out of range.

"Cease fire!" the lieutenant commanded.

As the sergeant turned, he wondered if anyone had been hit, the enemy, though panicked, still had a few men who had calmly halted and returned fire during the retreat. He looked around, things looked good, everyone seemed ...

Damn.

Huddled next to a tree was the armorer, his hands trying to hold his guts in. He was alive but something in his eyes told the sergeant that the man knew his time on this earth was over.

He knelt down next to the armorer, "Guns, we'll get a surgeon up here ... Hang on ..."

Reaching one bloody hand out, the armorer grabbed the sergeant's sleeve. "Nah, Sarge, I'm a goner, damned ball tore off a sliver from yon tree and drove it into my belly. Gutted like a fish I am. I ..."

"Don't talk, Guns, let me ..."

"In my vest pocket is my flask, some damn fine whiskey in it. Take it and use some of it to clean the lieutenant's wound, it's a bit worse than the boy would admit to. Then you two can drink to my memory, it's been a fine time, Sarge, a fine time."

The armorer stopped talking for a moment, the sergeant thought the man had slipped away, but no.

"Sarge?"

"Yeah, Guns."

"Bury me right here, would ya? 'Tis a lovely spot. A fellow could do worse ..."

"Guns?"

The man was gone.

"Nice job, Colonel."

The colonel commanding the shattered lead brigade looked up at his division commander. The general looked very regal in the light of a spring day.

"Sir? My brigade is ruined, my light company has 60% casualties and my line brigades have been badly handled by yon artillery. How is that a 'nice job'? Sir."

"There's an entire corps over there, your boys made them deploy and gave us time to come up. They may be pushing down other roads into our country, but not this one."

"So it's a full on invasion, Sir?"

"They declared war late last night, so yes, it's a full on invasion."

The colonel looked across the field towards where his brigade had met the enemy. "Lot of my boys are still out there, Sir."

The general looked sternly at the colonel, "Don't dwell on it, Colonel. It will drive you mad." Then he spurred his horse and rode off, trailed by his staff.

"Let's get you something to eat, Colonel."

He turned on his heel, and there was his sergeant major, his uniform torn and filthy, his cap missing, but still alive.

"You're still alive Sarn't Major ..."

"Aye Sir, don't sound so surprised, ye'll not be rid of me that easy."

In the Woods

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The sergeant was trying to pay attention to everything - how the men were moving into the trees, how the lieutenant was doing, and, most importantly, the enemy. To his satisfaction, the men weren't bunching up, the lieutenant appeared to have shaken his earlier jitters, and, again most importantly, the enemy wasn't in sight yet.

As he moved up to his officer to tell him that this was a good place to set up, the young man  surprised him, calling out to the line of troops, "All right boys, settle in, mark your firing lanes, this is as good a spot as any to begin the battle."

Indeed it was a good spot, there was cover and concealment to the front, the company was in a natural depression running through the small forest. It put the men below the general level of the ground and provided good visibility to their front. This young officer was turning out to have a good eye for terrain.

"Good enough, Sergeant?"

"No Sir ... It's perfect. Do you want me on the other end of the line?"

"See that darker line to our front, where the brush is thicker?" the officer asked him.

"I see it sir, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"If you're thinking open fire when the enemy pops out of that, then yes. We're on the same page, Sarn't."

"Great, I'll pass the word as I head to the flank."

"Carry on."

The major was growing concerned as the underbrush continued to thicken as his men moved into the trees. He was giving some thought to dismounting, perhaps rejoining the remainder of his battalion, his lead company commander was more than capable of handling things here.

Just as he decided to head back to the battalion, the underbrush cleared and his horse moved freely, she even seemed to be happy to be out of that mess of brambles and shrubs. He sat his mount and watched as the remainder of the company emerged into the more open part of the wood. His troops were quickly reordering themselves, he was proud of his boys, they ...

He heard the shout to his front, before his brain really registered what it had heard, billowing clouds of powder smoke issued along a line to his front, he perceived the flashes within the smoke an instant before he felt three distinct blows in succession.

One ball pierced his upper thigh and slammed into his horse, the second tore through his abdomen, winding him, the third ball hit his upper arm, then slanted up further when it hit bone. He didn't feel it when that ball smashed into his skull.

The major was dead before he hit the ground, his horse fell on top of him, thrashing briefly before it too died.

The captain saw his commander's mount topple an instant before he himself was hit. The ball spun him around hard enough that he fell. He could hear the screams of his men as they were being hit and driven back into the underbrush. Before losing consciousness he could hear his men returning fire, good boys he thought, good boys.

"Hold your fire!"

The enemy were falling back through the underbrush they had come out of, what was left of them anyway. A number of bodies could be seen on the ground, some still moving. The sergeant saw a party of men trying to pull a man out from under his horse. Though tempted to take them under fire, something inside of him stopped him. The other men on the line seemed to feel the same.

Heading back down the line to his lieutenant, he felt a moment of panic when he saw the man's bloody sleeve.

"Sir, are you hit?"

"Ball just grazed the skin, ruined my damned jacket though."

"Let me have a look ..."

"I fixed him up, Sarge. Bit more than a graze, but he'll live. Might want to see the surgeon."

The company armorer said that as he handed the lieutenant a canteen. "Drink that, Sir, it'll take the edge off. Sarge, can we talk?"

Looking puzzled, the sergeant nodded then followed the armorer back a few paces from the line, "What's up, Guns?"

"The boys fired off an awful lot of ammo, we need a resupply, soon. Also, I was out on the flank to see if the rest of the battalion had come up yet."

"And?"

"They have not, but there's an enemy light company moving up on our right, if our guys don't come up soon, they'll be in our rear."

"Why didn't you want the Lieutenant to hear that?"

"I wanted to let him settle down a bit before dumping a new problem in his lap. Kid's good, but he's young, didn't want to rattle him."

"What's in the canteen? Medicinal spirits?"

"Something like that," the armorer grinned.

The sergeant major had managed to rally the remnants of the light company which had gone into the woods. The senior surviving man was a very young lance corporal. He took him aside.

"What happened in there, Corp?"

"We come out of a thicket like, the forest kind of opened up once you got past the edge. As we're forming up we took a volley, then another. The lads were getting ready to return fire when someone noticed that the Major was down. Captain got the boys settled down, then he got hit, bad. Don't know what happened to 'im."

Looking around, the sergeant major counted maybe twenty-two or twenty-three survivors milling about. These boys were out of it for now.

"Corp, it's your company for now, form 'em up and march them to the rear. You'll be in reserve. Get your boys under control, have 'em eat something unless they've gobbled their rations down already, Ill try and scare something up when I get the chance, but we're a little busy right now."

The young lance corporal took a deep breath, for a moment it almost looked as if he was going to cry, but he composed himself. "Will do, Sergeant Major."

"THIRD COMPANY! ON ME!"

Though his voice cracked at the end of that command, the men of the shattered company fell in as ordered.

Turning back to the front to find his colonel, he heard a whistling overhead. He turned to see a solid shot plow into the ground then bounce back up and slam into the reformed Third Company, Those men flung their weapons down and ran.

Damn it, they've brought up their guns!

The lieutenant had nodded his head, then gave the armorer five men. "Head out to where you saw the enemy coming up on the flank, take 'em under fire, that'll give them pause. If they come on, run back and let me know. We'll have to fall back."

"Sir!"

He saw his sergeant watching him, "Something on your mind, Sarge?"

"The boys could use more ammo. We shot off a lot of rounds in that first attack. We weren't even carrying a full load."

"Well, if needs be, have the lads take care with their shots, we're stuck here until relieved, or overrun."

At that moment, both men heard the thump of artillery firing. It was hard to tell what direction it was from in the woods, but the sergeant was pretty sure it was to their right rear, where they had been initially positioned.

"Ours?" the lieutenant asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Might be."

The colonel saw his initial attack breaking up in the face of the enemy artillery, one battery already in action, two more being brought up. Before he could order his light battalion to fall back, their officer, the senior surviving captain, had already used his initiative to order that movement.

"Sir!"

"I know, Sergeant Major, I know. I'm falling back too. Damn it, but those fellows got their guns into action quickly."

"Yessir, right smartly handled they are. We should send ..."

"I've sent a galloper back to find our division and ask for orders. We'll pull back just past that small rise," gesturing at the small ridge they'd crossed earlier, "and wait to see what happens. At least there we'll be out of that fellow's line of fire."

"Three batteries, he has to have at least a division up ..." the sergeant major's remarks were punctuated by an enemy ball screaming overhead.

"And we need to make ourselves less conspicuous!"

Turning their horses, the two men galloped to the rear.

Just Over There

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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 his 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.