The morning was met with rays of sun peering through a series of thick fogs that rolled into the area. It looked almost like a grey sea as it rolled over the heights. Henri stood atop the heights peering down to no avail. He couldn’t see a thing. He decided to set himself along with his staff down for breakfast, before a rider, along with a squadron of dragoons came riding down the road from the forest. The pickets had alerted Henri of their arrival.

“I’m looking for general Henri Dubois. I bring reinforcements and word from general Eclaire.” Henri stood and looked at the dragoon. He looked to see the silver rose of a major. An impetuous dragoon officer, the type well suited to the lifestyle of a cavalier, a country side squire. Henri went to the man. “Major, the names colonel Henri Dubois. I am not aware of any promotions. I am in command here.”

The dragoon officer handed his reins to his assistant. “The names Major Harry Lauder, in command of the 6th dragoons, 3rd squadron Assigned per general Eclaire to the newly promoted general Henri Dubois.” The major stood inches from Henri, his sly smile that hinted disdain, quickly broke into one of genuine honor. “I heard from some of the stragglers your valiant stand. I am honored to be in your command, sir.” Henri blinked blindly at the major.

He then felt a hand on his shoulder turning to see Charles. “I figured at some point you would be promoted, sir.” Henri still couldn’t believe it. He was promoted to a general of brigade. However, what was usually something of relief felt sour. He was in a perils position. His force outnumbered and outgunned.

The major coughed to bring his attention to a piece of paper in his hand. Henri looked at the major with guarded dread. “The orders, sir.” The major said with a devilish smile. Henri opened the warm paper.

‘To our esteemed Colonel Henri Dubois,

I, with great pleasure, award you the rank of brigadier general.

Thus, I hereby appoint you in command of the newly created brigade attached to the seventh division part of the seventh corps.

Your mission is to retreat in good orders towards the crossroads between Mannberg and Aubsberg. You are to join lieutenant general David York, your new commanding officer. From there you are to receive further orders.

In your best wishes,

General Louis Eclaire’

Folding up the letter he called for a staff meeting. Charles shot a look of puzzlement towards Henri. “We can retreat.” Henri said pointedly. Charles let out a sigh. The major looked at Henri with confusion. “Sir, I must protest this. We had just arrived and I don’t think it prudent for us to retreat. Our position is good. This is good ground. We can further delay the imperials here.”

Harry had pointed a hand to the ground and stomped his foot as if to emphasize how grand his plan was, Henri on the other hand looked at major Lauder with a bit of disdain. “We held this ground yesterday. Major. I am not too sure what you had learned from the stragglers, but we bled here as well. Sure, we stopped them just below the heights and they retreated across the bridge. Yet, let me tell you.” Charles looked at Henri simply because, there was now a simmering rage that was about to boil over. He placed a hand on Henri’s shoulder.

Henri paused looking towards Charles. Who was making a breathing motion. Taking a sigh. He looked towards Harry once again. “Major, we are a simple brigade. We will be pushed back. Now the imperials had amassed at least two of its three brigades and will push us soon enough. So, be quiet and wait for the rest of the commanding officers.”

Harry had a face that wanted to argue, but knew when to cede the point. They waited as colonel Keyes and several of the captains arrived. Henri greeted each man conveying the news of his promotions. Then they all went down to business. They began to plan an organized retreat. Having the more battered regiments begin to retreat immediately. Colonel Keyes realizing that the regiment is still intact knew that he had to be the rearguard.

Due to the nature of the enemy forces. Henri knew that the guns needed to remain near the entrance of the forest to assist in delaying the imperials. They would need to be spiked when the regiment begins a full retreat. However, looking at the incredulous major an idea formed in his mind.

“Major, you wish for your squadron to see action?” The Harry perked up at those words. “We would love to sir.” A question forming on his brow. Henri continued “how good do you think your men can hold?”

The Harry looked to his men. Who were caring for their mounts. The major placed a hand on his curved cavalry saber. Then let out a sigh. “We can hold general.” Henri nodded. Good you will be the rearguard. Colonel Keyes, you are to take command. Major you shall defend the guns. Only when the line has retreated you may spike the guns and fall back at your leisure.”

Henri waited for the rest of the officers to leave only having Charles, Harry, and Francis remained. Henri began to rub his hands along his temple. To suppress a migraine that had begun to form. Francis took a step forward but Henri raised a hand. He didn’t need to be consoled. Instead, he worried about the coming conflict.

He looked to Harry who had a dower look as he looked towards the fog. “Major, I apologize if I had seemed angered by your insinuation.” Harry turned to look at Henri the stress from his face disappearing. Harry began to speak slowly. “General, I bare no ill will towards you nor your friend here. Instead, I am honored by your trust in giving me the rearguard.” He then saluted Henri. “I’ll be off to my men. Good day gentleman.”

Francis stood near Henri. “A rightful bastard. He is.” Charles looked towards the fog. “we’ll need him none the less.” Francis coughed at that. “Right, let me be off. Good morning, general.” Francis said with a smile and walked off.

Charles stood beside Henri. “You think they’ll be fine Charles?” Charles groomed his moustache meticulously. “That will be up to them, general.” Henri scoffed “Charles, just call me Henri. You are my second in command. I need the familiarity.” Charles simply smiled. “Very well, Henri. Simply put. There is only one entrance to the forest. As far as I can tell the trees are too thick for them to outflank us. The imperials would have to assault head on. The 17th regiment will hold the bulk. The guns can be placed on the extreme right. They can rake the flanks of assaulting regiments. Then when the infantry begins to fall back. We need to rely on the dragoons to hold long enough to spike the guns and burn the powder. A tall order.”

Henri nodded turning to almost his entire staff. “Send out the orders. All regiments save for the dragoons, artillery, and 17th regiment are to form column and retreat up the road in good order.” He then turns to a corporal. “I need you to inform colonel Keyes to form line a breast in the mouth of the forest. Once the regiments have passed through then to defend the pass for as long as possible. Before falling back in good order.”

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The corporal simply saluted then ran to mount a horse and ride off. Charles sauntered over with a copper mug. “Coffee?” Henri took it and looked forwards again. “Time to do our duties.”

Lieutenant Colonel Francis Scott Keyes looked towards the officer and enlisted men of the 17th Aubsberg regiment. They had been raised less than nine months ago. Raised in the boredom of winter. A thousand men volunteered from the lower eastern districts formed. Armed with the pattern seven Petterson muzzleloader. The regiment under Henri Dubois went through maybe a dozen or so skirmishes and two battles. Sadly, the regiment has over the time lost a tenth of their numbers. The recent fighting has brought that number to just short of three hundred dead or missing.

Francis thought about the friends he made as well as lost. He was in deep thought until he noticed a rider coming down from the ridge. The corporal saluted and passed on Henri’s words.

Francis looked up from the paper to call on Major Horne and Seamus. The two came running from God knows where. Seamus was a seasoned veteran from the days of the imperium. Only attaining the rank of sergeant, he resigned and joined the republic shortly after. He carried his rifle at the breast. Since he claimed that it made it easier to run. Major Horne was a well-known acquaintance coming from the same college as him and Henri. The trio relied on his know how on terrain and in particular the ground they stood on. He came along smoking on his walnut pipe. The smell of tobacco hung in the air as he jogged on over.

The two saluted Francis who simply waved it off. Seamus spoke first. “Colonel, darling, what seems to be the problem?” Horne followed suit in asking. Francis showed them the orders and simply grunted at its contents. “I assume the general seems to have given us the honor, aye, major?” Horne simply took in a breath through his pipe blowing the smoke towards the fog. “You’ll think we’ll survive?” Seamus simply shrugged. “Just as long as we keep firing in good order. The imperials have no hope on even spitting at us.”

Francis raised an eyebrow at Seamus. Spitting is one thing, but shooting. He was pretty sure a lead ball could travel farther than a man’s spittle. Regardless, Francis called for his company officers to form column and begin marching towards the mouth of the forest.

As they reached the mouth of the forest they saw the sea of fog in the little river valley below. Climbing up the hill took the better part of the morning and now they waited. Perpendicular to the forest entrance.

They watched as the brigade fell back in good order. Regiments numbering in the couple of hundreds. A sign of the toll of war. Once clean and fully manned regiments. Lies the battered and dwindling few. The 17th itself now in Francis’ eyes seemed like an oddity in itself. He then saw the newly arrived major Lauder. The ass of a man stood atop a grey mounted charger. The beast itself was something to marvel at. To which in Lauder’s credit meant a lot.

Finally, the last of the stragglers. Passed them. Francis called for the order to wheel left. As if one body the regiment moved as one with the left staggering their steps to cause the whole of the regiment to fall in. Until a thin grey line blocked the road.

Francis looked to his far left to see the guns placed in the tree lines pointing their copper guns along the road towards the forest. He could see the grey-green jackets lurking alongside the artillery crew.

Francis felt uneasy and read his orders once again. When he heard the beating of drums come across the river. Francis readied the men. He called orders for the first rank to kneel. He went along the line leaving the color guard near the center. He moved along the line. Noticing small details here and there.

He saw the McClain brothers standing near each other. “You boys should spread yourselves apart. Don’t want to have to write to your mother.” The pair simply smiled and nodded before choosing amongst themselves to move down the line. He spotted good old Cooper. The former butcher turned sergeant. He was piling some wood in front of him. “Pile it higher. So, the imperials would need to shoot better rather than faster.” At his words others started to move branches to cover the road. Some got a fallen tree and used it as cover.

Francis looked out towards the fog. The thumping of the drums beginning to beckon louder. Then like something from the scriptures that sat in his pocket. The sun’s rays cut through the fog. Showing the vanguard of the imperials.

Like a start of a symphony the four cannons fired. Launching not the solid balls that would rip through and plow the earth but instead the small canister of musket balls. The ground erupted in a muddy shower as the balls hit the ground ricocheting into the leading imperials.

Cooper turned to Francis looking the colonel in the eye. “We’ll hold ‘em, sir. Please head back to the center.” Francis simply nodded going for a brisk walk towards the center. Some of the captains and sergeant saluted him before turning back and barking orders.

Francis passed Company D and their captain who gave the order to fire in mass. Which entailed for the entire company consisting of a hundred men or so to fire at once. Now Francis paused to stare as the company, which had the third most veterans in the regiment, fired a neat and crisp volley into the imperials aiming at chest height. Which in itself went against manual drilling which called for aiming at the head.

Francis saw as mists of blood came forth from the imperial vanguard that advanced on the company. The command to load was called and in a fluid motion the men loaded in their time. Taking an estimated twenty seconds. The order to fire in time was called and the men fired at will. A cold nagging feeling like a scythe pulled around his neck. Which caused Francis to begin jogging towards the center.

When a cannonball ripped through the line. Now the ball had only struck two people, but the violence it enacted upon them was horrific. The poor private that saw the ball coming only had a moment to scream before being abruptly silenced. The lieutenant that stood behind him was dragged with the ball leaving a trail of guts and viscera in behind.

The men surrounding them stood in silence before going through the routines drilled into their skulls. Firing back even harder to avoid the fates of the two men. He reached the center of the formation spying his color sergeant and private who carried the regimental and national colors. Both had their revolvers out and colors planted.

Francis standing at the center to be met by a lieutenant. “Colonel, Major Horne had been struck, in the thigh. However, he has refused to retire. He shall continue to hold the right.” Francis dismissed the lieutenant when a private came running from the right. The private saluted him with a simple horizontal hand placement to his chest. “Sir, captain Richard has fallen. Lieutenant Daniles has taken command of Company D.” Francis simply nodded.

Francis had checked upon his time piece. Ten minutes had passed. However, the imperials were gaining ground. The sounds of bugles began to erupt from the imperial vanguards. Many veterans from the time of the revolution knew what that meant. A charge. He looked at the company that was in front of him. The men began to load frantically. Almost forgetting crucial steps. The sergeants and corporals chiming in to keep the men in step with the drills. When the last of the men had finished loading the first imperials had reached spitting range. The entire regiment had begun firing at point blank range.

The acrid smoke burned Francis’ nose as the smoke blinded his vision. The orders for bayonets had been issued. Yet, that was too late. Francis cocked his revolver firing into a charging imperial. Two rounds erupted from his piece as they bore through the charging imperial. He looked towards the colors seeing the pair of color-bearers firing their pieces in an ever-growing pile of the fallen challengers.

He looked towards the cannons where the dragoons with sabers drawn and carbine raised fought as well in a loose semi-circle. All the while the cannoneers prepare one last bombardment. He turned to feel the world be kicked up under him. He found himself staring at the bright blue sky that had begun to be enveloped by the grey smoke.

He tried to sit up; however, a pain had shot up from his left leg. “Dear goddess” he thought. A solider watching the colonel fall leapt towards him. “Colonel, sir! Are you alright?” The young soldier, who Francis couldn’t recall his name, lifted Francis. However, his vision began to fade to darkness.