Napoleon's Guard

by Griff Hosker

  At the end of the first day we made our most exciting discovery. We found a long piece of stone which had been shaped and then covered in hieroglyphics. The lieutenant said it was an obelisk. “The general will like this.”

  “Why, does it tell us where Alexander’s tomb is?”

  “Well no, but it is full of information and it is old.”

  “Keep looking Pierre-François we need the tomb.”

  “If we can find the Temple of Ptah then we should be closer to finding it.” I had spoiled his discovery. He had forgotten the purpose of our trip.

  Jean took the opportunity of scouting the surrounding country. He was amazed at how fertile the land was close to the river. “But then you get a line and it is the desert and there is nothing. It is an amazing land.”

  Five days into the dig and we found the Temple. I was intrigued by the way that the lieutenant managed to uncover the stones and then piece together a picture of the city. This was definitely his forte and not soldiering. Jean had every man not needed for guard duty working to uncover the ruin. We worked solidly for two days.

  I had been out on patrol and, when I rode in I saw a despondent Lieutenant Bouchard talking to Jean. “Problems?”

  “The tomb was here. You can see where it was and I saw the Greek word for Alexander next to some hieroglyphics. They moved it.”

  “So back to the general tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  The lieutenant looked distraught. “But you can’t! We have so much to do and…”

  Jean’s voice became cold. “Lieutenant, you forget yourself. Our mission was to find the tomb. You said it is not here. We leave in the morning!”

  I am not sure that our academic lieutenant slept at all that night. He was busily scribbling in his notebooks recording all that he had found. He could be as obsessive as the general at times. The men were glad to leave. We had lost two men to snake bites and those who had drunk the Nile water when we had first arrived had still not recovered. They did not mind the work but I know they all wanted to be back with the regiment.

  When we reached the scene of the battle the soldiers guarding the camp told us that the army had headed north, back to Alexandria and the general had set up his headquarters there. It meant an even longer journey back to our regiment. We left our sick and wounded at the hospital in Cairo and the rest of us trudged north along the river. August in Egypt is a dreadful time to travel. The heat and the flies made everyone short tempered. Even the horses began to become fractious. I wondered if the rewards were worth the discomfort. I hoped the general knew what he was doing.

  We found the regiment well to the south of Alexandria and Jean and I dropped the men and the wagon off there. The major explained about the charges against the lieutenant. Albert shook his head sadly. Dereliction of duty was the most heinous of crimes in the old colonel’s eyes.

  “I just heard that the fleet has been sunk and all the treasure with it.”

  “We are unable to sail home?” I recognised the implications straight away. My hand went to my money belt unconsciously. Sir John had done the right thing in giving me the seal.

  The colonel nodded and added, philosophically, “It would appear that, for the moment, we are trapped in Egypt.”

  Pierre-François, who had said little on the journey north suddenly said, “Trapped? But surely we can get more ships.”

  Jean laughed, “It was that little admiral Nelson who did this. I do not think he will allow any more ships to come. We may be marching home.”

  We rode through the crowded streets to the headquarters. There was a buzz of noise. Part of this was normal but a greater part was the gossip about the battle and what it meant for the French Army. There was an air of revolt which seemed to permeate the dusty streets filled with the wretched and the desperate of Egypt.

  The general was busy meeting with his senior officers and the three of us sat in a, thankfully, cool antechamber. The lieutenant clutched his books and papers as though his life depended upon them. Bessières appeared glad to see us. He was philosophical with the news that we had not found the tomb. “It was a gamble but now that we have the scientists from France we can begin to discover more about this ancient land.” He glanced at the books in the lieutenant’s hands. “They will prove useful. This could mean a promotion for you, young man.”

  “I am afraid that he is facing charges of dereliction of duty. He fell asleep whilst in command of the camp and men died.”

  “Ah.” Bessières shook his head sadly, “We had such high hopes for you. Such a pity.” He disappeared back into the meeting and we waited again. Jean and I could understand the delay. The loss of the fleet was a disaster and General Bonaparte would need all his skill and luck if he was to extricate both himself and his army from this far off land.

  Murat and all the other officers nodded to us as they came out. They might not have recognised the lieutenant but Jean and I were known to them all. Once inside the general pounced eagerly upon the books held by our colleague. “So lieutenant, did you find anything of interest?”

  Pierre-François suddenly broke into a grin as he forgot protocol and almost tore the book from the general’s hand. He flicked through the pages explaining what his notes and drawings meant. I think Bonaparte was amused. When Pierre-François paused for breath the general laughed. “Excellent. You can take some engineers and recover the treasure. This is excellent work.”

  Jean coughed, “I am sorry, general, but this officer is facing charges.”

  Almost absent mindedly the general looked up, “Ah yes Bessières mentioned this. Why was he in command?”

  Jean looked confused. “He is an officer, it was his duty.”

  “I knew there would be a simple explanation. You misunderstood the orders I gave to you. This young man was not to be given duties. He has done all that I asked of him,” he pointed at the books. “The charges will be dropped.”

  “But general the troopers…”

  “Bonaparte held up his hand. ”He is to be transferred to the engineers with the rank of captain.” He smiled at us as we were summarily dismissed. “Well done you two. You may return to your regiment.”

  As we rode back I could see that Jean was fuming. “Every time I see that man he sinks lower and lower in my estimation of him! He is a soldier and you would have thought he would have understood that military discipline takes precedent over tombs and stones! Troopers died because of that young imbecile!”

  “Jean, Ssh! Men may hear.”

  “I care not!”

  Luckily the streets were so full of street hawkers and sellers that we could not be heard. What worried me was how angry Jean was. Normally he was calm, almost placid but not now. The general had angered him.

  “The sooner we get back to being real soldiers the better.”

  We did not have much time to reflect on the meeting. For when we returned, there were our neglected duties to perform. When we told Albert of the general’s decision he shrugged. “He was a pleasant young man. Do you think that the firing squad would have helped our morale? The other troopers on guard that night also bear some responsibility. Think on that.”

  Before Jean could reply a rider galloped in to the camp and leapt from his horse. “Colonel Aristide, General Murat requests your presence at headquarters.”

  “I’ll be right with you. Major you had better prepare the men for a move. General Murat is a little impetuous and likes things done yesterday.”

  With something military to do Jean was much calmer. “Right Robbie, get Claude and organise the men to check their horses and muskets. With the fleet destroyed we will be struggling to get supplies. Get as much as you can from the quartermaster’s stores. I am not sure where we will be operating this time.”

  I found Claude and gave him his instructions. “I’ll take Lieutenant Barriere and visit the quartermaster.”

  Tiny drove the wagon and I rode next to him as we headed for the warehouse which had been commandeered for the qua
rtermaster. He knew us from our trip into the desert. “Ah you have come to return the wagon eh? Very thoughtful of you.”

  “No, we have more orders from General Bonaparte. I am here to fill it up.”

  The mention of the commander was like oiling a greasy wheel; it worked instantly. “Ah the general. Right, what do you need?”

  “Musket balls, powder, canteens, blankets.”

  The quartermaster nodded to the sergeant who wandered into the warehouse with three bored privates following him. I suddenly spied some of the white cloaks we had found so useful.

  “What are they?”

  The captain looked up from his list and said, “Oh they were in here when we commandeered it. I will get rid of them soon.”

  “We will take them off your hands?”

  “Why?” the suspicion was back in his voice.

  “Well when the general sends us out into the desert we sometimes need to be in disguise. Besides I am doing you a favour by clearing space in your warehouse.”

  I could see him working out how we were robbing him. He obviously couldn’t see a profit in it and so he shrugged. “You are right it gives me more room although when our next supply ships will reach us is anyone’s guess.”

  “Tiny, stick them in the wagon.”

  Tiny grinned, “You are getting sneakier captain.”

  “I think it is being around the general that does it.”

  By the time we reached our camp with our treasures the colonel had returned and Jean had prepared the men to move. We were summoned to a briefing. The colonel had two troopers hold up a map and he pointed at it with his dagger. “The general wants a screen of cavalry to the east of the river. There are no more Turks on the western side. We are sending a couple of requisitioned river cruisers to patrol the Nile and we will be stationed to the east of the Nile. Each regiment will have a sector to patrol.” He jabbed his finger at a dot close to the sea. “This is Kolzum on the Red Sea. This is the southern edge of our patrol. The 22nd Dragoons will be there. We will be thirty miles north,” he pointed to the map, “where there is nothing. The cavalry have a hundred and twenty miles of frontier to cover, if the mapmakers are to be believed. This is where any Turkish army will come. There is a lake, here, but the water is, apparently, undrinkable. We will have to fetch our water from the Nile on a daily basis. As we know, to our cost, the water is almost poisonous and so we will have to gather firewood every day. That means we will need wagons. “

  He looked at me, “Did we return the quartermaster’s wagon captain?”

  “No sir.”

  “Good then we have three in total they will have to suffice. I want one troop a day on firewood detail and one troop a day on water detail.”

  Jean frowned, “That only leaves two troops to patrol sir.”

  “A troop and half. We have half a troop in the hospital; some with dysentery and others with a kind of coughing disease.” He shrugged. “You know how it works, major. If it is any consolation the general’s precious Guides are being assigned an area too. They will have to earn their precious red and green uniforms.”

  “What about infantry support and artillery?”

  “There is a brigade building a line of forts behind us to protect the road from Alexandria to Cairo but we are the front line.”

  I held up my hand, “Sir, I managed to get some white cloaks from the quartermaster. We used them as a disguise when we arrived but they keep you cool. They might be useful.”

  “Good, how many?”

  “Well I thought we would be short but if we only have three and a half troops then we will have enough.”

  “Good. Issue them captain.”

  Chapter 4

  The troopers all named our new camp, Versailles. It was their dark humour at work. The Bourbon palace of canals and water features was as far from the rock strewn, sandy, scorpion and snake infested camp as you could imagine. We chose the best site that we could but it was still grim. Every rock seemed to hide a scorpion, a snake or some insect which enjoyed feasting on cavalry flesh. I was pleased that Jean and I were assigned to lead the first two patrols. It got us out of camp and I did not desire to be the carter carrying water or firewood. Jean had Charles as his lieutenant and I had Tiny. I was comfortable with the ex- sergeant major. I had made Trooper Manet the first sergeant of the troop. He was dependable and reminded me much of Tiny when he had first been promoted. We had just fifty troopers in the patrol but I felt sure that we would be able to deal with whatever the enemy threw at us. The Mamelukes might be brave but, compared with us, they were ill equipped for a modern war and the irregulars were even worse. The only advantage some of them had was that they rode camels, which our horses hated and shied away from. The strange beasts could also go for longer without water.

  “Sergeant Manet, make sure the men all have two canteens. Check that they haven’t any alcohol with them. That will dehydrate them faster than anything.”

  “Sir.”

  I had made the men wear the white cloaks. At first they were unhappy about the extra weight but they soon relented when they found out how cool they were. The huge hoods also afforded more protection to their heads than our hard helmets.

  I led the patrol to the east. It was all enemy country to our fore. The sergeant sent out four men ahead of us to give us early warning of any enemy. It was not good cavalry country. The rocks threatened to send you skittering down the slopes and you would suddenly find patches of soft sand which seemed to drag you down. I had decided that we would halt during the noon sun. There was little point in frying. Each step seemed to take twice as much effort during the heat of the day. Our maps were poor but it looked as though there might be some shelter some five miles ahead. I turned to Tiny. “I expect the four scouts back soon to tell us there is water and shade. The map seems to show something.”

  Tiny looked up at the sun, It was his way of telling time. “I would have expected them back by now. Suddenly Sergeant Manet shouted, “Sir, up in the sky. Look!”

  I could see, over the next rise, the circling buzzards. There was something dead ahead. I felt a sick feeling in my stomach. “Take out your muskets and be ready for trouble. Gallop!”

  As soon as we crested the rise I saw my scouts, or at least what remained of three of them. Their severed heads had been stuck on the hilt of their swords. Of the fourth and their horses there was no sign. “Lieutenant Barriere, take ten men and form a skirmish line. Sergeant Manet, send five men to look for the fourth trooper and tracks.”

  I dismounted close to the bodies. They had all been hacked to death. “Trooper, get some men and dig graves for these brave troopers.”

  I tied Killer to a scrubby looking tree and began to scour the ground for clues and evidence. One advantage of the lack of moisture and rain was that you could track a little easier. Even when it was soft sand you could see where someone had stepped. As I knelt to examine some ash I could hear the shovels as they dug the graves for the three troopers. I rubbed the ash between my fingers. It felt warm and I knew they had been here recently. There were darker patches which showed where the men had bled. The Ottomans would pay for their cruelty. I finished my examination and returned to the others. Everyone was there and the men had fashioned three crude crosses. I was not sure that the Committee would approve but I did.

  I took off my helmet and the others did the same, “Lord, take these brave men into your care. I know not what religion they were but I know that you would not shun such brave troopers. Amen.”

  I put my headgear back on. “Well?”

  Sergeant Manet said, “The tracks head east and there is no sign of Trooper Denoire. There was a trail of blood and then it stopped.”

  I nodded. I looked at each of them in turn as I spoke. “This is what happened, the Ottomans were hiding here. They smoked their pipes and they dug pits in which to hide. One of them must have been over there.” I pointed to where the bodies had been found. They did not know it but it was a trap. When they approached
the Turk they were surrounded and… well you know the rest. I realise it is too late for them but get this into your head. Out here everything is a potential enemy and killer. Take nothing at face value. I am sorry the three of them died but they were careless and stupid.” I almost spat the word out in my anger. “If there are four scouts and one of you sees one man then only one trooper needs to look at him. The rest should be watching for danger. Use your nose. I could smell the tobacco when I arrived. They should have smelled it too. Listen for noises and use your horses. Killer was unhappy even before we saw the buzzards.” I let my words sink in. “Mount. Sergeant Manet, take four men and ride half a mile behind us. Let us get well away before you follow. I do not want to walk into another trap.”

  I could see the puzzled look on his face. “They knew we were coming. They know we will follow. What I don’t want is for us to find them and then discover that we are surrounded.” He grinned. I snapped a reply to wipe it from his face. “And that is the last explanation I give. Just follow orders and I might get you back to France alive.”

  We mounted and Tiny and I led the column. Tiny snapped, “Keep your muskets handy.”

  I looked at the clear trail left by the Ottomans. “What worries me is that they want us to follow. I am not going to hurry.”

  “But, sir, what about Trooper Denoire? Shouldn’t we try to rescue him?”

  “Trooper Denoire is dead. They have taken his body to make us follow. That is why the blood stopped.”

  “How do you know sir?” This was curiosity and I answered.

  “I cannot see them seeing to his wounds. See how much blood there is. He died… , “I pointed to the ground, “right here where the blood stops. They want us to charge in and get ourselves killed.” A movement in the sky attracted my attention. “See the buzzards in the sky? We have denied them a meal and they are following another one. That is where the Ottomans are. Take ten men and ride south for a mile and then east for another mile. You should be able to catch them or get ahead of them.”