As soon as he arrived in the port of Halifax, bustling with ropes, men, countless crates, and heavy oak barrels, Adam was greeted as a hero by his fellow captains, as if he had just returned from a perilous mission deep in enemy territory.
Albert, André, and the young Martin were all eager to hear about his ceremony and his feelings about this significant promotion. Unfortunately, he had no time to chat, as he now commanded a company of men.
Each soldier was his responsibility. His duty was to train them and ensure they were capable of carrying out various tasks, from building a camp to capturing an enemy-held position.
On the journey back, Adam had begun to grasp the magnitude of the task entrusted to him. Just a few months ago, all these young men lining up on the docks of Halifax had been small merchants, laborers, or peasants.
Now, it was up to him to transform these recruits into soldiers worthy of the name.
"Captain," said Lieutenant Marais, "the men are in position."
"Good. Take a step back behind me and follow."
"At your command!"
Adam, wearing his golden epaulet, sash, and fine powdered wig with dignity, stepped forward resolutely, his expression so stern it might have seemed an unforgivable crime had been committed.
He passed in front of the first row of the small formation and stopped at the center. Then, he stood silently, observing the recruits with such intensity that several of them flinched.
"Soldiers, we are now in Halifax. This city and port are under our authority; however, you must remember we are not the only ones here. There are many civilians here, most of whom were once subjects of the King of England. They are now under the protection of His Majesty and Marshal de Richelieu. Anyone causing trouble will face the consequences."
Adam could hear several recruits swallow nervously. There was no need to go into details; their imaginations were enough to make them understand the severity of their actions if they committed serious offenses.
"That’s not all. You will also see many Indians. These lands once belonged to them, and the very existence of this town was the subject of negotiations. Significant concessions were made to ensure we could continue using it. If you think you have the right to disrespect them just because you wear a uniform or because your skin is lighter, you are gravely mistaken. Similarly, just as you will be severely disciplined by your officers in case of conflict with the locals, you will also be punished if you jeopardize the agreements made with the Mi'kmaq or any other tribe."
He saw several heads nod, but he wasn’t sure he had been clear enough.
"Let me repeat: I will not tolerate any discrimination against the Indians or any other people simply because they are not white. If you do so, you will answer to me—not because it’s the law, but because I will not tolerate racism. Treat everyone you encounter with the same respect you expect to receive. Otherwise, I will not hold back. Am I clear?"
"Y-yes, Captain!"
"I can’t hear you! Am I clear?"
"Yes, Captain!"
Adam nodded with satisfaction and turned to his two lieutenants, who had shown no reaction to his provocative words.
The hierarchy of races, or even the mere concept of their existence, was the norm in this century, no matter the continent. Such dangerous ideas even existed in Africa—a fact not taught in modern French schools.
Adam was unaware of this, but he refused to tolerate such views, which he deemed intolerable and hateful. Here, treating foreigners differently, especially when their skin color wasn’t the same as one’s own, was considered normal.
However, something was slowly beginning to change, thanks to the great European philosophers, starting with the French.
Contrary to the norms of this century, new schools of thought were emerging and gradually spreading, though it was far too early for them to become the new standard. It would take two more centuries of effort for the very concept of race within the human species to be abolished in France.
For the locals, including Lieutenants Marais and Laroche, asking soldiers to treat everyone equally was excessive. One did not treat a nobleman the same way as a peasant, and yet they were being told to treat a French colonist and a Black slave equally?
It was too progressive to be well-received, yet neither lieutenant voiced complaints or remarks—especially not in front of the new recruits. To do so would be to challenge their captain’s authority.
"As agreed, we will leave the town to conduct training in peace. Inform the colonel, Mr. Laroche."
"At your command."
Once the colonel had been informed, the company headed south, following the river until they reached a spot across from a small islet known as George Island.
The area was less wooded here than anywhere else around Halifax. It seemed as though this small town, freshly risen from the earth, had been placed here by a higher power in the midst of Nova Scotia’s wilderness.
This small clearing was ideal for the exercises Adam had planned for his men. He brought them to a stop at the center, amidst dense grass weighed down by the frequent rains of the season.
"Company, halt!"
The men froze, adjusting their ranks slightly. Each soldier could feel the piercing gaze of their officer, a man of similar age to their own.
"Soldiers, you have received training before coming under my command, but it is not enough for you to be considered true soldiers. Do you want to survive? Do you want to earn respect? Do you want to achieve glory and honor? Do you want to make a fortune? All of that is possible, but it will demand tremendous effort!"
The recruits, who had initially lost confidence and hope after hearing their officer’s harsh words, gradually began to lift their heads, their hearts suddenly swelling with courage. The very words that had driven them to enlist had just been spoken.
“You may not know this, but I started out just like you, as an ordinary soldier. I thought I would die countless times, and there were moments during drills and long marches when I wished someone would put me out of my misery. But look at me now! I’m a captain! You, too, can achieve this. The army is an extraordinary place where an ordinary person can rise to positions they couldn’t reach or even dream of reaching elsewhere. You have the opportunity to become someone; all you have to do is seize it and fight! Fight! Be hard on yourselves! Push your limits, and nothing will stop you!”
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In the recruits’ eyes, the small spark that had been there transformed into a fierce blaze. It made their blood boil and filled them with an urge to shout.
Adam felt that, in their current state, they were capable of declaring war on every country in the world.
“But,” Adam continued, pausing deliberately to let his men calm down, “you have a long way to go, and you’re far behind the other companies. Your comrades, whether in this regiment or elsewhere, have much more experience than you. They’ve faced trials you can’t even imagine. Soon, you’ll be like them, because make no mistake, you’ll soon be on the front lines, facing the formidable redcoats. That moment is coming soon, so you must be ready! With Lieutenants Laroche and Marais, I will turn you into real soldiers! Follow me, and this company’s name will soon become the most renowned in the New World!”
Unable to hold back any longer, the soldiers erupted into cheers, not caring if their enthusiasm attracted the curious gazes of their comrades. Their energy was so intense that even the veterans in Captain Gilbert’s company were surprised.
However, despite this impressive energy, it lacked strength. If this loud cheer were compared to a dog’s bark, it was that of a puppy. Not bad, but much work remained to turn it into a roar that could strike fear into an enemy troop.
“Good! Then, without further ado, let’s start training! A soldier must first have endurance if he wants to reach the battlefield without exhausting himself or slowing down the rest of the army! He must also be able to charge! You will run until you drop! Go!”
Adam had skillfully manipulated his recruits. He had fired them up, and now they were overflowing with energy. With this single command, he intended to push them to their limits.
The entire company began running in circles around the clearing, with the captain and his two lieutenants standing at the center atop a small hill.
Then, once Adam saw they were in full stride, he signaled to his two subordinates to join the exercise, setting an example and ensuring they stayed in shape.
Whether captains or ordinary soldiers, the king needed men in good health.
The recruits quickly noticed their commander running alongside them, which greatly surprised them. They certainly hadn’t expected the captain, so proud in his uniform and with his fine sword at his side, to join them in this exercise.
This encouraged them to keep pace, and they naturally adjusted their speed to match his.
After several laps, Adam noticed that he had taken the lead, as his young recruits were starting to tire. Soon, their numbers dwindled until only the veterans and the most stubborn among them remained.
Let’s see, there are only twelve of us left. Seven of us are from Gilbert’s company, so that leaves five recruits still running. Not bad, but they look like they’re suffering.
Adam’s forehead was covered in sweat, but his breathing was steady, as he had carefully paced himself and avoided taking overly long strides. His rhythm was as regular as it had been at the start. Behind him, however, about ten or twelve meters back, the remaining recruits seemed ready to collapse.
All right, I think we can call it a day—for the running, at least.
“Company, form up in three ranks!”
The sudden order caught the soldiers off guard, both those who had collapsed and those who had endured to the end.
“Are you deaf?! Form up in three ranks—now!” Adam thundered as if personally insulted.
The soldiers scrambled to comply, but their coordination left much to be desired.
After what felt like an eternity, the ranks were finally formed.
“Soldiers, when an order is given, you obey it immediately. Look at yourselves! Is this what you call a formation? Adjust your positions. Soldier, one of your buttons is undone. You there, you’re too far to the right. Close the gap with your comrade. Your tricorne is crooked. That’s better. Hold your muskets firmly! They are more than your weapons; they are your partners!”
Adam let out a deep sigh.
“Well, this is an acceptable formation. Next time, I want you to look like this and take less time to get there. The longer I wait, the more ridiculous you appear—remember that! Understood?”
“Yes, Captain!”
“First rank, step forward. Third rank, step back.”
The soldiers obeyed.
Adam turned to his two lieutenants and instructed them to take positions within the ranks to assist the recruits during the next exercise.
“A soldier is nothing without his weapon, but the weapon itself is useless if you don’t know how to handle it properly. You’ve been taught the functions of its various parts, but that’s not enough! I want you to become so familiar with your muskets that you can load them and fix bayonets in complete darkness! Soldiers, fix bayonets!”
The soldiers, unsurprised, drew their blades from their sheaths.
As during the ceremony, there were a few missteps, but thankfully no major incidents like the time a soldier had nearly injured himself while attaching his bayonet to the end of his musket. This progress was encouraging, but it hadn’t come easily—these recruits had spent the past two weeks training.
Two weeks of practice, and they’re still this slow! The fastest ones are fine, but the rest… I feel like crying. It’s as if they were dragged here against their will.
“Stop! Lieutenant, how much time?”
"One minute and two seconds," he replied in a cold, serious voice after consulting a small pocket watch.
"One minute and two seconds. Did you hear that, soldiers? That's bad, very bad! You should only need twenty to thirty seconds! Even loading your weapon shouldn’t take that long! Sheathe your bayonets now, come on!"
The soldiers obeyed and detached their blades, but one of them was so clumsy he nearly stabbed the man standing in front of him. It would have happened if Adam hadn't increased the spacing between the ranks.
"Soldier Tournier! Have you lost your mind?!"
"I—I… No, Lieutenant…" stammered a soldier, pale as a sheet.
"I wasn’t expecting an answer!" barked Lieutenant Marais, his face red with fury. "Do you hate Soldier Perrin so much that you’d try to kill him with your bayonet?! Step out of the ranks!"
Adam watched as his lieutenant pulled one of the soldiers from the formation—a man who had already made an impression on the first day. He was none other than the one who had nearly sliced open his hand during the inspection in Quebec.
"I did not permit you to move!" the young captain barked, noticing his men turning their heads to see what was happening behind them. "Hold formation! Bayonets on the barrels!"
The officers, including Lieutenant Marais, who had returned to the third rank he was overseeing, observed the soldiers with utmost attention.
Their hands trembled under the pressure, which they found ridiculous given that they weren’t under threat from enemy bullets or cannonballs. Their current conditions were far better than what they’d face later on the battlefield.
"Stop! Lieutenant Marais?"
"Fifty-four seconds, Captain."
"That’s better, but you can do much better! You’re no less capable than your comrades or our enemies, so prove it! Show me that you truly want to hit your targets! Prove to me that you want to be better than this! Sheathe your bayonets! Soldier Tournier, you too! No, do not rejoin the ranks! You’ll be allowed back when you’re no longer a danger to your comrades! For now, you’re as dangerous as those damned redcoats!"
Adam saw a few soldiers smile discreetly as they busied themselves with securing their blades in their scabbards on the opposite side of their cartridge boxes.
"Bayonets on the barrels!"
Adam noticed clear improvement among most of the soldiers. His men were drawing their bayonets more naturally and better understood how to attach them correctly. It wasn’t enough for the bayonet to simply be on the end of the barrel; it had to stay there even after a shock.
"Stop!"
"Forty-two seconds, thanks to Mr. Tournier," said Lieutenant Marais, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the soldier, whose face was gradually turning beet red. "The others are at thirty-three seconds."
"Thirty-three seconds. Did you hear that? That’s better! See? You can do it! Soldier Tournier, you can too! Keep practicing! Return to your place. Now, load your weapons as if in combat!"
The exercise lasted for many hours, testing the nerves of the new recruits. Unfortunately for them, they had no idea that this was nothing compared to the plans Adam and his officers had in store for them.
They had based their drills on the grueling program of Captain Gilbert and the commander of France’s fearsome grenadiers.
Adam wasn’t content to merely lead a company—he wanted to command the best line infantry company.
He even planned to introduce them to physical exercises common in the 21st century but unheard of at the time. However, he regretted not knowing what training modern elite soldiers underwent.
I probably won’t be able to turn them into elite soldiers, but I can certainly make an excellent company that will allow me to stand out. All I need is time.
His eyes turned to the partly cloudy sky where a few seabirds were flying.
But I fear we don’t have much of it—probably barely enough to teach them the basics.
He couldn’t help but grimace as he imagined the most likely outcome for his men if they were sent to the front now.
No matter. I will do everything in my power to give them a chance to come back alive.