Fighting Marines- Hardy's Challenge

by Perry Comer

  “I fear bad, I can’t feel my legs,” Williams answered.

  A burly man entered the tent and said, “You men leave the tent!”

  They began to disburse. Hardy stayed.

  “Sir, wait outside and allow these men to render aid,” the burly man said.

  “I’ll be near,” Hardy said to Williams and turned. His friend’s eyes were closed.

  The man who ordered everyone from the tent followed Hardy out. “Who are you? I see you are a marine.”

  “Lieutenant Hardy, I was to report to Captain Williams.”

  “Well you’ve done that and more. That was you that drove off the bastards, I’m grateful for your arrival.”

  “They will try again now that you have supplies.”

  “That they will but we are still short of supplies. One wagon didn’t make it but I guess you know that.”

  Hardy half-grinned, “Aye, I know and the wagon is following with wounded men. I buried the supplies. Once we’ve rested, I suggest we take a wagon and fetch the supplies.”

  “I’ll send some of my men with you, they may try to take it from you.”

  “The assistance would be appreciated. What is your name sir?”

  “Ramsey, I’m second in command here. John Macintosh is the commander but he is away to the west.”

  Hardy smiled. “I believe I had the pleasure of meeting your wife at your plantation. She has a servant named Jewel.”

  “Yes, that is Helen. How did you happen to make her acquaintance?”

  “We were sent to capture a wagon with arms for, as you call them, the bastards. We captured the wagon and had a running fight. We sheltered at the plantation to minister to our wounded and to camp for the night. Your woman, Jewel, tended my wounded and I must say that she is quite the healer. It would be better for Captain Williams were she here.”

  Ramsey asked, “Did you dispatch the bastards at my plantation?”

  “No, I sent your wife and her household on to Saint Marys ahead of us and we fought the bastards a couple miles from your home. Your wife has gone with her brother to Charleston, so I was told. But, I can tell you that on our return trip that your house was intact and appeared undisturbed.”

  Ramsey put out his hand, “Sir I thank you for those things and I’m in your debt.”

  Hardy took the offered hand and said, “There are no debts in war only obligations to fulfill. As we have done for you, you would surely have done for us.”

  “Yes, I do agree with that and pray that the occasion does not come that I must rescue you. Now, as to the other supplies, have you a plan?”

  “Aye, I believe it best that we secure those supplies while we have light. I will send Lieutenant Brooks and an escort of twelve men. Perhaps with six of yours.”

  “That is acceptable, is your young man experienced?”

  “Aye, Lieutenant Brooks has nerve as well as common sense, he’s killed his share since serving with me.”

  “Your estimate of him is acceptable, I’ll choose my men.”

  “How many have you here?” Hardy asked.

  “A hundred and twenty two and nine wounded,” Ramsey answered and added, “that does not include your marines.”

  Hardy decided he should phrase his next question carefully. He asked, “And, the enemy, do you have an estimate?”

  “To be fair no, but we’ve not been able to leave this place due to the shortage of supplies. We hoped to hang on long enough for supplies to arrive and now that they have I will organize forays against the bastards. My intention is to drive them south.”

  “Do they have a main camp?”

  Ramsey answered without hesitation, “A mile south there is a river crossing and a trading post. They are based there and Prince Witen the son-in-law of Biassou is there, he commands.”

  Hardy considered the information and the situation. The last order he received was to catch up to Williams and there was nothing beyond that. He was bound here until Williams recovered enough to issue new orders. And should Williams not recover, then he would be under Sevier’s orders. The logical and practical action would to be to remain and aid Ramsey.

  He said to Ramsey, “Your course of action is before you then. I will see to Mister Brooks and start him on his way to secure the supplies. While he is away I will make myself familiar with your defenses.”

  “Do as you will,” Ramsey said and walked away.

  Brooks returned with the wagon of supplies just after dark. Hardy was pleased to see him and that the young marine had accomplished the mission without difficulty.

  To Hardy’s surprise Brooks seemed to have an air of smugness about him. He reported to Hardy, “Once we arrived at the site, I deployed the men in a circular perimeter and set Ramsey’s men to loading the wagon. One man fired a shot at what he thought to be an intruder. Other than that we were unmolested.” Brooks reported.

  “Well done, Mister Brooks,” Hardy complemented.

  “How is Captain Williams?” Brooks asked.

  Hardy was truthful. “Not good, he was wounded eight times. Some minor but others will take him in time. I doubt a surgeon could save him.”

  “He’s a strong man,” Brooks said hopefully.

  “Aye, but I’ve seen strong men die,” Hardy said and answered Brooks’ next question before it was asked. “We will remain here until Captain Williams recovers, or dies. We may receive new orders from Lieutenant Sevier, if so we will follow them.”

  “Aye, sir,” Brooks answered.

  Hardy glanced around to see who might be nearby and then said in a hushed tone, “Until such time as any of those things come to pass we will ally ourselves with Ramsey’s force and pursue the bastards. We will know more about his plans in the morning and need to prepare accordingly. We have two additional corporals and one sergeant named White. Take Lieutenant Nichols with you and locate White. The two of you are to keep your eyes and ears open. Report to me if anything of significance is said or done by Ramsey’s people.”

  “Aye, sir,” Brooks answered and set off in search of Nichols.

  While Brooks ran the errand, Hardy returned to the tent where Williams lay. He ducked under the tent flap and found Williams sleeping soundly. The man tending him was named Cole, one of Ramsey’s slaves.

  Hardy asked, “How is he?”

  Cole answered, “He’s bled a lot and still bleeding some. Fever not come on him yet.”

  “You learned from Jewel?” Hardy asked.

  Cole smiled and said, “What little I know, she taught me. She a good woman with the sick and hurt.”

  Hardy nodded and said, “Aye, a good woman. Send for me if the Captain wakes.”

  “Yes sir, I send for you,” Cole answered.

  Nichols, Brooks and White strode up to Hardy. White was a powerfully built man. Hardy remembered him from the Washington barracks.

  Hardy got to business. “See that all the men wash their uniforms, I do not want them mistaken for bastards when we are in a fight. I think it would serve us well to be as armed as possible for as we have experienced, the fighting is close quarters. Mister Brooks have the jenny unloaded and see that each of our men has at least one pistol. Sergeant White you will inspect all the men and see that their bayonets are free of rust and serviceable. In this heat they rust quickly and a dull blade can cost a man his life. I will inspect the men after breakfast. We will operate as two divisions, Lieutenant Brooks and Sergeant White over one and Lieutenant Nichols and I over the other. Divide the corporals equally between the two divisions. Mister Books and Mister Nichols will set the watches, two men every two hours. Understood?”

  “Aye,” they each answered.

  White asked, “What of the Captain?”

  “In a bad way, what can be done is being done. The man with him is trustworthy but he is neither a doctor nor a surgeon.”

  “Are we to remain then?” White asked.

  “Aye, I intend to stay until Lieutenant Sevier sends new orders,” Hardy stated.

  He pau
sed and said, “Mister Ramsey intends to attack Prince Witen’s camp so we will attend him in support. After that, I do not know.”

  The night passed without incident. One of Ramsey’s slaves had taken Hardy’s uniform during the night to mend and wash. He dressed and went into see Williams. There was no change. He left the tent with a deep sadness.

  Brooks and Nichols had the men turned out after breakfast just as the sun rose. The men were in two divisions and each had two corporals. They stood at attention waiting for Hardy to inspect.

  He moved between the four ranks of men making mental notes of deficiencies. Some had taken great effort to be parade ground presentable and others had done little more than rinse the mud off their uniforms.

  “Sergeant White!” Hardy called.

  “Aye,” White answered and saluted.

  “I count eight men in filthy uniforms. Two with rusty bayonets and three who stink of rum or worse. Set them to rights!”

  “Aye, sir,” White answered.

  “Mister Brooks, dismiss the company!” Hardy said and walked away.

  Ramsey approached Hardy. “I watched your inspection, surely in these conditions you can’t expect them to maintain the standards of the barracks?”

  Hardy smiled. “Sometimes standards serve as a reminder of who we are and what we are about. If orders are not followed in camp then I can expect orders to be ignored in a fight. These men need to know I have expectations of them and that if they do not meet my expectations then there will be consequences. This wilderness may be far from our barracks but the barracks should not be far from the men.”

  “I understand your point, I trust they do,” Ramsey said. He rubbed his chin and said, “I see they have pistols as well as muskets, those pistols are not standard issue.”

  “No,” Hardy said and added, “having two shots is better than having only one, don’t you agree?”

  Ramsey laughed.

  “I see you understand,” Hardy said. “I choose to win a fight rather than lose a fight. Rules be damn, winning is living and losing is dying. A man who chooses to lose for no good reason deserves what he gets. I’d have them armed with three pistols if I could just so they have their enemies at a disadvantage.”

  “And you are so armed?” Ramsey asked.

  Rather than answer, Hardy opened his tunic to show the two four-barreled pistols.

  “I’ve not seen the like!” Ramsey said with awe.

  Hardy pulled one of the pistol and handed it butt first to Ramsey.

  “Heavy and awkward,” Ramsey said.

  “Aye, but four shots are better than one. The barrels rotate and each has a pan. I’ve two as you see and that is eight shots.”

  “You don’t intend to lose do you?”

  Hardy said firmly, “No.”

  They were interrupted by one of Ramsey’s men. “Sir the scout has returned, he’s wounded.”

  “I’ll come,” Ramsey said.

  Hardy followed.

  The scout was wounded in the leg, not seriously but enough so that he needed aid. Ramsey asked him, “What is their disposition?”

  The scout winced in pain as his britches were pulled down. Catching his breath he said, “I counted sixty-three in the camp, I don’t know how many in the trading post. It would be a good time to hit them while the rest of them are someplace else.”

  “That someplace could be circling around to attack us,” Ramsey mused.

  The scout said, “I think not sir, I was circling back from the river to see if they were planning to come around us when I got shot. There was two up them and I got one but the other managed to hit me.”

  “Where was this?” Ramsey asked.

  “On the road, I was looking for where a large party might have crossed but there were no fresh tracks. So I figure half the bastards have gone off someplace else.”

  Ramsey turned to Hardy, “What do you think?”

  Hardy was thoughtful a moment before answering. He chose to ask, “Do you think this chap Witen is wily enough to lay a trap, one you could not refuse?”

  There was surprise on Ramsey’s face. He was slow to answer, “Yes, he is as cunning as the devil.”

  Hardy nodded and said, “He will know you have supplies and that we have joined the fight. He will also know you have scouts watching him just as he has scouts watching this camp. I would advise waiting at least a day.”

  Indecision played on Ramsey’s face.

  “I’ll not send marines into a trap,” Hardy stated just to sway Ramsey’s thoughts.

  Ramsey nodded and said simply, “Prudent!” and walked away.

  Hardy called after him, “Mister Ramsey, he will be curious as to why we have not taken the bait.”

  Ramsey stopped and spun around. “Bait?”

  Hardy had judged the man rightly and said, “Aye, bait. His camp laid bare, bait and nothing more. Once you enter he would come at you from the front and the rear; the river would be an obstacle to hem you in. I’ve seen it before.”

  “And what do you suggest?” Ramsey asked.

  “Your word was prudent, mine is wait. By sunset, he will know the bait was not taken and he will want to know why. I suggest a trap for his scouts. Without intelligence, he will be worried and a worried man is prone to mistakes. Better he make a mistake than you.”

  It was late in the afternoon when Ramsey crossed the clearing. Hardy did not go to met him but rose from the log as he neared.

  “I’ve set men to lay in wait for Witen’s scouts,” Ramsey said.

  “A wise decision,” Hardy agreed.

  Ramsey half-smiled and said, “It’s a bit like a chess game, eh’ Lieutenant?”

  “No Mister Ramsey, not chess, this is war and there are no niceties. Your fellow countrymen proved that to the British generals. The important outcome is winning and how you achieve it matters not. You get to return home to wife and family and the other fellow rots in a grave. It’s far from a game.”

  “That’s rather harsh Lieutenant,” Ramsey stated.

  “Aye, but it is the truth, you can’t deny it. It is your goal is it not, to defeat Witen and his like so that you may return to your family?”

  “It is,” Ramsey admitted.

  “And, you will do whatever it takes to accomplish it as quickly and with the least loss possible?”

  “Yes!” Ramsey said and turned. He walked swiftly away.

  “You upset him,” Nichols said.

  “Aye, and I’ve upset captains and majors before him,” Hardy said and grinned. “He’ll not be the last. Gentlemen with high ideals do not win a war; soldiers who fight and use every advantage do so win wars. Those are the ones who return home to wives and sweethearts.”

  “And what of you sir, why do you fight? You have no home or family?” Nichols asked.

  Hardy sat on his log and picked up the mug of rum by his side. “I fight for the same reason the farmer farms, he is born to it.”

  Nichols sat next to Hardy and asked, “Do you like the fighting and killing as the farmer likes the planting and harvesting?”

  Hardy turned to the young man, he sipped the rum then said, “Ask the farmer if he enjoys the backbreaking work of planting and harvesting or watching his crops wither for lack of rain, or watching his children starve because some rich man refuses to pay a fair price? He’ll tell you no and say but it is all he knows. Such as it is with me, it is what I know.”

  Nichols said nothing so Hardy drank from the tankard. After swallowing he said, “Mister Nichols you have chosen to wear a uniform, by doing so you have obligated yourself to fight and to win when called upon to do so, is that not correct?”

  “It is sir,” Nichols answered.

  “Then, Mister Nichols the day will come when your lads, those under your orders, will face impossible odds and they will look to you. On that day, I ask you, will you send them to their deaths in the name of glory or will you scheme and bend any rule to save their lives?”

  “I will do what I’m ordered to
do,” Nichols answered boldly.

  “Aye, orders given by gentlemen!” Hardy said and flung the contents of the tankard into the bushes. “I tell you truly Mister Nichols, on that day the orders matter little compared to lives. You will use whatever means is available to you to save as many as possible and be prepared to face recriminations if you do not succeed to fulfill your orders. Now, understand me, you will accept lawful orders and seek to fulfill them but if the objective is impossible and men are dying needlessly you will save what can be saved. Those who give orders know full well the possibility of failure but failure does not cost them their lives and they know that success is too often the result of the ingenuity, resourcefulness and courage of the one receiving the orders. And to that I say, let the gentlemen play at niceties, we that wear the uniform have not the blood to shed for niceties, ours is to win by any means possible.”

  Nichols sat silent. Hardy gazed off into the distance. His words had brought to mind the faces of men who did not return to homes and families.

  Hardy sat alone at the makeshift table eating fish Vargas had caught earlier in the day. A commotion on the far side of the camp claimed his attention. He downed a gulp of water and listened. The shouting and pushing indicated that Ramsey had succeeded in capturing Witen’s scouts. He picked up a piece of fish and ate. A piercing scream erupted from the gathering of men around the scouts and was followed by more screams.

  Several minutes passed and a man, one of Ramsey’s crossed the clearing at a fast walk and came straight to Hardy. “Colonel Ramsey wants you,” the man said.

  Hardy smiled then said, “I shall attend the Colonel shortly.”

  The man looked perplexed but turned and headed back toward the cluster of men.

  “Mister Brooks!” Hardy called.

  “Aye,” Brooks answered from inside the tent. He came out with shaving lather on his face.

  “Finish your shave Mister Brooks, we will attend Colonel Ramsey when you are presentable.”

  “Colonel?” Brooks said with surprise.

  “Aye, and fetch Mister Nichols, I shall want both of you to attend.”