by Griff Hosker
I was leading the troop with Lieutenant Jackson. He had come on tremendously since the DeVere’s had departed. The men tended to view him as some baby faced mascot. Corporal Seymour had been promoted to sergeant and he looked after the lieutenant with all the attention of a mother wolf and her cub.
We halted that night, as we always did, at Whitstable. One of the locals, a crab fisherman with a gnarled face looking as though as he was carved from stone, approached us. “I seen a couple of ships out yonder sir. No lights.”
“”Fishing boats?”
He shook his head. “Didn’t look like that to me sir.”
I gathered the sergeants and Jackson around me. “Lieutenant Jackson, you keep half of the men here. Spread them out along the beach. Tell them to keep a good watch. We may have the chance to capture some smugglers tonight. It’s our chance at last.”
They all nodded their agreement, ”We need something sir. Those arrogant bastards in A Squadron have been crowing about chasing off a couple of poxy fishing boats. We have to get a result tonight.”
“We will get a result one night but it may not be tonight Sergeant Grant. We will lead our horses along the coast road. We will have a lower profile. Sergeant Emerson, you take ten men and ride the long way around and when you get to Herne Bay, come back along the road.”
I was left with just thirty men. Sergeant Grant voiced his fears. “Leaving us a little thin aren’t you, sir?”
I laughed, “If thirty of our men can’t handle a few smugglers then I think we all ought to get a new profession don’t you?”
He chuckled, “Aye sir, you are right but I do so want us to have some success. The lads deserve it. Their heads are going down a bit.”
I knew what he meant but you could not manufacture a situation where you could get success. They would acquit themselves well once they had a foe; they had shown that in Pomerania, but they needed an opponent.
After half an hour of trudging through sand I was not sure that it was turning out to be such a good idea but we had to persevere. I had trained the men to be silent at night. I know it is hard to hide so many men and horses but it is slightly easier if they make no noise. I held up my hand for the regular half hourly halt and the sergeants and corporals raised theirs. I could hear the sea and then something else. I heard the sound of oars splashing in the water. I pumped my fist twice and, as it was repeated, every trooper took out their carbine. The designated horse holders grabbed the reins of their horses and the remaining twenty men squatted as they awaited my order. I waved the line forwards towards the sea, some hundred yards away. It was pitch black and I could see nothing but I was sure that something was out there. I held up my hand to halt the line and listened.
Sharp suddenly looked at me and mouthed, “French!” I nodded. I too had heard the language. I hoped it would not be Jean. I would not like him to end his days in a British prison.
I waved at the men to lie down. Peering into the dark I strained to see the boats. Suddenly I saw a shape and white foam marking the bows of a boat. Then there was another and another. There were three boats. Since when did smugglers bring in three boats? I raised my carbine and whispered to Sergeant Grant, “Prepare the men. This may be more than smugglers.” I repeated the message to Sharp and heard the message as it hissed its way along the line of troopers.
The men wading into the water were still indistinct until I caught a glimpse of white trousers. These were not smugglers these were French soldiers. In an instant I took in the fact that this was not an invasion when I saw the small number of boats. The harbours had had hundreds of these barges. What worried me was that these three, no four, boats all contained French regulars. What was going on? “These are French regulars, be careful!”
Whoever had sent these soldiers to England would not have sent inexperienced novices. These soldiers would be good. I rolled on to my back. “Sergeant Sharp, send two riders from the horse holders to bring the rest of the men.”
“Sir!”
He soon disappeared towards the horses. “Let them get closer. No one fires until I give the order.” The whispered message was passed from trooper to trooper. This was now a serious matter. It was more than a game to see which squadron could capture the most smugglers. This was real soldiering.
With a sinking heart I realised that there were over a hundred men forming up on the beach. Even with the entire troop here we would be outnumbered. Until the rest arrived there were four Frenchmen for every one of my men. For all that I knew this could be part of a larger force. The French had done this before, in Ireland and in Cumberland. If we didn’t stop them then the inhabitants of Herne Bay and Whitstable could be in peril.
I gauged that they were less than eighty yards away. I could have waited a little longer but I risked them seeing us. I knew that all that they would see would be the muzzle flashes of our guns and they would fire high when they returned fire; they would assume we were standing. It was now or never. As I shouted, “Fire!” Sharp rolled into the sand next to me. His nod told me he had done as I had asked.
Sergeant Grant yelled, “Reload!” The carbine, unlike the musket could be loaded from a prone position.
I knew, from their reaction, that the French troops were good. They all brought their muskets up, despite the dead and wounded and they fired a volley at us. I heard one cry of pain showing that we had not escaped injury.
I yelled, “Fire!” and the twenty odd guns barked.
Their leader must have realised how few we were for he suddenly ordered his men into a single line. Every gun could now be brought to bear and we would cause fewer casualties with our volleys.
“Reload!”
The French fired another volley and then I heard the order to fix bayonets. I yelled, “Fire!” just as their officers shouted, “Charge!”
Our balls took out some but they did not stop the charge. The only factor which was in our favour was the sand which slowed them up.
“Stand and fall back! Use your pistols.” Unlike the French my men had pistols as well as carbines. I dropped my carbine which swung on its swivel. It made movement more difficult but freed up both hands. Holding my sword in my right hand I aimed my pistol at a huge sergeant who hurtled towards me. The ball smacked him in the shoulder and he spun round but the mountain of a man rose and lurched towards me. He was a brave man but I lunged forward beneath his jabbing bayonet and stabbed him in the neck. The soldier next to him tried to bayonet me in the side and I hit the end of the musket away with my pistol. I brought my sword around to slice across his neck.
I heard Grant shout, “Sir, fall back!”
I realised that I was isolated and I walked backwards. The French soldiers saw their chance and all tried to skewer me. A flurry of balls whizzed around me and men fell. I struck the ends of three bayonets away and then took a mighty step backwards. This was the dangerous part; I could trip over anything.
I heard Sergeant Grant shouting the commands to reload and then Sergeant Sharp yelled, “Sir, drop to the ground!”
I obeyed as Grant shouted, “Fire!” and the gaggle of men before me all fell.
I reached our lines and said, “Thanks. How many have we lost?”
“Six sir.” Grant pointed down the beach, there were more men coming from that direction.
We needed more men and, until the rest of the troop arrived we were shorthanded. “Back to the horses. We will use the horse holders. We’ll be Light Dragoons once more.”
The order given we turned and ran. The French thought that we were fleeing and that they had won. They all cheered. Reaching the horses I ordered the men to mount. The men put their carbines away and drew their sabres. I took out my spare pistol as did Sergeant Sharp. “Ready! Walk! Trot! Jones, sound the charge!” The commands were given in quick succession and the bugle echoed in the night. We needed to hit the French while they were still disorganised.
I heard their officers ordering them to reload and to form lines. They were difficult manoeuvres
to achieve at the same time and neither was done well. We struck the line before they had fired. The bayonets on the muskets formed a barrier but they made the muskets more unwieldy. Badger barged through two men and I skewered one of them. A face loomed up on my left and I fired my pistol blindly. We charged until we struck the water. I turned in my saddle and saw riderless horses. We had not escaped without losses. “Jones, sound recall.”
The troopers quickly rallied. We were well outnumbered now. There was only one thing left to do and that was to go on the offensive. It would take them longer to organise than it would us. “Sound the charge!”
As we hurtled towards them all that I saw was a wall of fire as they opened fire on us. It was a ragged volley and, I suspect, they did not hit as many as they might have expected to. Then I heard a wail from their rear and saw horses. It was Sergeant Emerson and his men. There were only twelve in total but they had an effect far beyond their numbers. They fired as they rode and then their sabres slashed down on unprotected backs. It was more than enough and while some of the French survivors fled back to their boats, others lifted their arms in surrender.
“Keep them covered. Sergeant Grant, take some men and disarm them.”
I heard the sound of horses behind me and saw Lieutenant Jackson and the rest of the troop. “I’m sorry, sir, we came as soon as we could.”
“Don’t apologise lieutenant, it was my orders which left you at Whitstable.” I pointed to the boats, “See if you can capture some of those men fleeing or just shoot them. They are French regulars.” I would have taken our men but the horses had charged too many times. It would have been a waste of energy.
“Sergeant Sharp, see to the wounded.”
I turned to look for the bugler. “Jones, find someone with a fresh horse and send him back to the barracks. The colonel needs to be here.”
“Sir.”
I rode over to the disconsolate group of prisoners who were being watched by the eagle eyed Sergeant Grant. I could see the look of hatred on their faces. I saw that they were mainly the young soldiers. There was one lieutenant there and a wounded sergeant.
“Keep an eye on them while I go and check the dead officers for papers.” I dismounted and walked through the bodies which lay scattered and bleeding in the surf and on the sand. I was looking for an officer. I hoped they might have some information which might help me to find out what their purpose was. I doubted that the lowly lieutenant would have had much of an idea.
I saw a captain with half his head blown off lying in the water. I opened his jacket and found a few soggy papers. I would have to dry them to read them. I could not find any others. I looked out to sea. The sun was just rising and I could see now that there were five boats in total and they were pulling away from shore. I wondered how they could have evaded the Royal Navy. They had certainly surprised us. The last thing I had expected to find on the Kentish beach was over a hundred French regulars.
Lieutenant Jackson rode towards me. Behind him his sergeant and a corporal had their carbines trained on the back of a major and a captain. This was more like it.
“Well done, James. A good haul.”
I dismounted and approached them. I saw that they were from the 33rd Light Infantry; a good regiment. It was hard to read their feelings from their impassive faces but I assumed that they were less than happy.
I nodded to them. “Gentlemen, what did you hope to achieve by this attack?” I deliberately spoke in English. I suspected that they both spoke English, it would have been why they were chosen to come to England. Neither of them reacted to my words and I shrugged. “We will have to let someone else question them Lieutenant Jackson. Lead them over to the other prisoners.”
The fact that they spoke English was confirmed when they both began to move before being prompted by Lieutenant Jackson. I smiled to myself. I led Badger across to the prisoners. James dismounted and walked next to me. “Why do you think they were here sir? Is it the invasion?”
I didn’t think it was but I wanted to play dumb for the benefit of the two officers who walked before us. “It might have been. We will have to wait until the other squadrons report back from their patrols.”
The two officers began to talk, not knowing that I understood their words. “The fool thinks we are the invasion. When General Bonaparte comes it will be more than a company of light infantry.”
“I do not relish the thought of an English prison.”
“Do not worry Captain Leblanc. We will not be spending any time in a prison. When we reach the men I will order them to attack their guards and you and I will steal a couple of horses. The frigate will have to wait down the coast for those barges. We will easily reach it before they do.”
When they reached the other prisoners I summoned Sergeant Grant over. “Quietly move your men back, Sergeant Grant. In a moment that officer will make them attack our men. Shoot to wound.”
“How do you... sorry sir. Yes sir.” He turned to the twenty men he had guarding the prisoners. “Right men move away from the prisoners. Give them a little air eh? Just keep your carbines aimed at them.”
“James, get your men to help Sergeant Grant. The prisoners will try to escape soon.” He began to ask me something but I held my finger to my lips. “Sergeant Sharp, keep your carbine aimed at that captain if you please.”
I had been reloading my carbine as we had walked and it was pointed at the major’s knee. He was less than thirty yards from him and I would not miss. The two of them approached the lieutenant and spoke briefly. He stood to attention and then the three of them moved around the men. As soon as the two senior officers moved to the side I knew what was going to happen. I said quietly, “Get ready Sergeant Grant.”
The lieutenant suddenly shouted to his men and they began to run at my troopers. There was the crack and pop of carbines followed by the screams of the soldiers. I watched only the two officers who both pulled small pistols from their coats and ran towards the tethered horses. Sharp and I fired at the same time. The two men screamed and went down clutching their knees.
I wandered over and tied a tourniquet around the major’s leg. “That was foolish, major. Now you will have a limp for the rest of your life. Did you think we would not watch you?”
He tried to play dumb by shaking his head.
“I know you speak English.”
Once again he played dumb. I had had enough. “Sergeant Sharp put a ball into the captain’s head.”
“No, no! You are right we do speak English.”
“That’s better. What is your name?”
“Major Vassili of the 33rd Light Infantry.”
“And what were you doing here?”
“We were lost. We thought that we were close to the Batavian Republic.”
I laughed, “Major Vassili, even a soldier knows east from west. Give me a better answer.”
“I refuse to answer.”
“A shame because the people who will take you away and interrogate you will not be as thoughtful as me.”
“We are prisoners. Exchange us.”
“Who for? All the prisoners you had from the conflict before were exchanged during the peace.”
A slight smile spread across his face. “What about the civilians?”
“What civilians?”
“When you declared war there were some hundreds of civilians still in France.” He pointed to the rising sun. “There are three hundred of them in Dunkerque alone.”
That stunned me. “You may be right, major but it does not reflect on your people that you take civilians prisoner. War should be between soldiers and men of honour.”
For the first time he had the good grace to look abashed. “You are correct sir but if it gets me home to my wife and family…”
“I understand.”
We were interrupted by the colonel and the rest of the regiment. I saluted. “Sir, some of these men need a doctor. They tried to escape.”
He looked at the corpse strewn beach. “Once again Cap
tain Matthews, you have surprised me. Get your men back to the barracks and leave this to me.”
“Sir, if I might have a word first.” He dismounted and I told him what the major had said. “I am sure that if Colonel Selkirk knew this he would wish to do something about it.”
“Like what?”
“Like try to rescue them.”
He shook his head, “You again, Captain Matthews? You cannot win the war on your own.”
“No sir, and this time I would need the help of some of our troopers and a captain that I happen to know.”
“What do you want then?”
“I would like to ride to London and apprise the colonel of the situation.”
He sighed, “I suppose so but get back here as soon as you can.”
“Yes sir.” I turned, “Lieutenant Jackson, take the men back to the barracks. Sharp, follow me.”
Chapter 15
“But colonel we cannot leave the civilians in Bonaparte’s hands!”
“It is very laudable of you Robbie but what you ask is impossible. Your colonel is correct, you cannot win the war on your own and you are too valuable to lose.”
“I would not be risking much sir. Hear me out, I have a plan.”
It had taken some time to actually get him to listen to me but he now nodded and said, “You have five minutes. Make the most if it.”
“Sir, we control the Channel, is that correct?”
“Until those soldiers you captured arrived I thought so but I am less sure now.”
“What I mean is that if I could get the prisoners from wherever they are being held then the navy would not have a problem getting them off would they?”
“No but how would you get them out. You don’t know where they are.”
“I know that three hundred of them are at Dunkerque. There cannot be many places where that number could be held. The only risky part would be when Sharp and I enter the town to find them. We could use some of our troopers and some marines. They cannot have that many guards; they are just civilians after all.” I could see that he was weakening. “I promise you that I will not risk my life. I will only make the rescue if I think that I can get them out without loss of life.”