Napoleon's Guard

by Griff Hosker

  “And then what do we do?”

  “Come to our rescue when we ride into their trap.” As Tiny rode away I thought about the changes I had seen in me. Three years ago I would have ridden back to the camp, fearful of what might happen; now I was courting death to try to avenge my dead troopers. Working for General Napoleon Bonaparte changed a man.

  “Corporal Degas.” The corporal rode next to me.

  “Sir?”

  “I want you at the rear of this column. I suspect we will be ambushed. Take charge of the rear of the line in case I am hit. The lieutenant and the sergeant will join us with their men once the firing starts.”

  “Sir.”

  Degas was a new appointment but he had potential. I liked the way he hadn’t bothered with any superfluous questions. I checked both my horse pistols. I would not be using my musketoon when we were attacked. I wanted to fire as soon as I saw a Turk. As I looked ahead I saw that the buzzards had now stopped moving away and were flying in lazy circles. There was a defile in a rock strewn valley. That would be their killing ground. I turned to the four men behind me. When we get to those rocks dismount and tie your horses. Make your way through the rocks. The Ottomans will be waiting there for us. Outflank them and use your muskets.”

  “Sir.” My little speech earlier on had eliminated questions anyway. I had just twenty nine men with me. I hoped that would be enough. I deliberately slowed as we neared the defile to allow the men to dismount. As they did so I turned and said quietly, “We are about to be ambushed. When we are attacked I want you to dismount and take cover in the rocks. Pass it on.”

  The message slipped down the column and I led us into the valley of death. I could see the buzzards. I knew that the ambush would be in the ground in front of the buzzards. I scanned the rocks for a sign but it was Killer who alerted me. He whinnied and I caught the reflection from the metal of a weapon. I yelled, “Ambush!” and slid from Killer’s back.

  I raised my pistol and fired at the Turk who had stood less than ten paces from me. His lifeless body collapsed in a heap. I put the pistol back in the holster and took out my second. There was no point firing into the rocks, it would be a waste of powder. I had quickly realised that their musket balls were not even coming close to us. I suspected they were ancient ones even worse than those used by the Maltese. A Mameluke ran at me from his place of concealment. He was just twenty yards from me. I caught the movement, turned and fired. He had moved quickly and was almost within sword’s length when my ball took off his head. I took out my sword. I could hear the pop of muskets from behind me. My four skirmishers were doing as ordered.

  I turned to the men crouching behind me. “One man in four, watch the horses and guard our backs. The rest of you come with me.” I was trusting that Tiny would be to the south of me. I led the survivors of the ambush up the northern slope. We stood more chance than down in the defile. I bent double as I scrambled towards the ridge. I could see the puffs of smoke from their guns and made my way towards the closest. As soon as the gun had fired I ran, knowing how long it took to reload.

  When I was a third of the way up a movement to my right made me turn and I saw a Turk trying to load his gun. I raced to him and thrust my blade into his side. I could see that some of my men had fallen; the blood from their wounds staining their white cloaks but I saw more dead Turks as we climbed higher. A musket appeared from the rock ahead and I grabbed hold of it. The barrel was hot but I pulled anyway and a surprised Turk forgot to let go and was impaled on my blade. I had just withdrawn the blade when a second Ottoman ran at me with his sword aimed at my head. I knocked the blade aside and punched him as hard as I could in the stomach. He doubled up with the force of the blow. I smashed the hilt of my sword on to the back of his head and he slumped in an unconscious heap at my feet. I picked up his sword in my left hand and shouted to the nearest trooper. “Watch this man and reload your weapon!”

  It was easier to move up the slope as the firing became more sporadic. I could see the Turks begin to move away from my chasseurs. We were eager for revenge. Two of the enemy rushed towards me and I was forced to use both swords. I barely fended off the man on my left. I used my superior strength in my right hand to spin around and force one of my opponents to fall towards the man on my left. Rather than retreating I went on to the offensive. I stamped on the knee of one Turk and heard a satisfying crack as it broke. As he screamed I plunged my sword into his neck. The second man slashed at my leg from a prone position. I barely had time to block it with the Mameluke sword. Even so it bit into the leather of my boot. I raised my sword and chopped down on him. He put his hand up in defence but it merely slowed the blade up. I sliced through his hand and into the side of his neck.

  Sergeant Manet joined me. “I think they are on the run.”

  “Good. Get the bugler to sound recall. You check the bodies and try to find Denoire. I’ll go and find the lieutenant.”

  The sergeant grinned. “I think I saw him and his men charging after the Turks sir.”

  By the time I reached the bottom of the defile the horse holders and the horses had arrived. I mounted Killer, much to the relief of the trooper holding him. “First ten come with me. The rest cover the troopers up there.”

  I led my ten men down the defile. I could see bodies dotted on the rock strewn slopes. Suddenly I heard the clash of weapons, “Draw sabres!”

  The hiss of metal sliding from scabbards was a reassuring sound, and, as we turned to follow the valley we saw Tiny and his men engaged with some Turkish horsemen. We had no bugle with us and so I roared, “Charge!” I leaned forwards over Killer’s head with my sword held before me. My mount was the best in the regiment and soon outpaced his peers. I did not even need to move my hand as Killer slid next to the rear of a Turkish horse and my sword pierced the back of the robed Ottoman. His sudden scream alerted the exultant Turks to the new danger from their rear. They turned in time to be spitted on the sabres of my men. The eight survivors threw their arms in the air. I could see the fierce anger on the faces of my men and I feared that they would take their revenge on these prisoners.

  “The prisoners must remain unharmed. We are not savages.” I saw their weapons lower.

  “Thanks sir, just in time!”

  I shook my head, “Lieutenant, next time wait for me.”

  He looked hurt, “But sir they would have got away.”

  I rode next to him and pointed to the bodies of the three dead troopers, “And they would be alive. Where do you think we will get replacements from? We have no fleet.”

  Realisation dawned on his face. “Sorry sir.”

  “Never mind. Get the dead troopers on their horses and then collect the equipment and horses of the dead Turks.”

  It was some time later when we rode back down the defile with our eight prisoners. A grim faced Sergeant Manet was waiting for me with the rest of the patrol. “We found Denoire sir. We wrapped his body in a robe. He is whole and…”

  “And you thought to bury him at the camp. Good. We have three others to bury.”

  “Six sir.” He pointed to the horses standing forlornly with their robe covered cargoes.

  We had lost ten men on this patrol. That was a fifth of the force and this was but our first outing. “Sergeant, take the rear. Lieutenant you watch the prisoners. Let’s go home.”

  Versailles looked a little more welcoming as we rode towards it. We could see the smoke from the cooking fires and smell the food in the pots. After the horror of the morning it would do the men good to have hot food and talk to try to rid us of the memories.

  I made my report to Albert as the prisoners were taken by Lieutenant Chagal back to Cairo. I idly wondered what would happen to them but then dismissed the thought. It was not my problem.

  “So they ambushed your scouts.”

  “Yes sir. This is different country from Italy and these are not Austrians. They are sneaky and, “ I added coldly, “cruel.”

  “I know and it must be distressin
g but I do not think they would have suffered and dead is dead, captain.”

  “I know.”

  “Any other signs of the enemy?”

  “No sir. It is a treacherous land out there and they know it.” I pointed to the east. “They were waiting for us and they must have scouts watching for us.”

  The colonel knew me and smiled, “Go on Robbie out with your idea.”

  “If we went out at night we could find them sir. They wouldn’t be expecting that.”

  “A good idea, but not tonight. Your men can rest tonight and tomorrow you can get the water so that your men will be able to take the night patrol.”

  “Yes sir!”

  As we ate in the mess tent I told the other officers of the Ottomans and what they had done to the troopers. They were all appalled. Jean was more phlegmatic. “But if the Turks had come to our land and conquered it, what would we do?”

  “We wouldn’t chop off their heads!”

  “I think that if you are dead it does not matter.” He looked at me. “And do we not chop off heads in the Place de la Revolution? Where is the difference?”

  Tiny shivered, “It just seems, I don’t know, barbaric.”

  “War is barbaric but do not let the blood rush to your head. From what Robbie said you charged after superior numbers today with a handful of men. Why?”

  The lieutenant blushed, “I was angry and I wanted…”

  “You wanted to get back at the men who had done that to your troopers. You are an officer. Think with your mind and not your heart. You will save more troopers’ lives that way.”

  Jean was right, of course but it was hard to be dispassionate when you had seen young troopers treated that way. When Charles returned after delivering his prisoners he told us that what he had experienced was being duplicated all along the line of outposts. It was hit and run. The Turks knew we could not reinforce and were wearing us down. It would be a war of attrition. They were making the desert red with the blood of our horsemen.

  The water detail did not seem so bad after the horrors of the previous day. All we had to worry about were the crocodiles and they were easier to spot than Turks hiding in the rocks. The water butts were emptied into the huge cauldrons and boiled before being placed in new water butts. We were able to rest during the heat of the day and then, in the afternoon, we planned our night time patrol. I had Tiny and the sergeants and corporals around me as I explained what we would be doing.

  “I pointed to the two sergeants, you two along with the lieutenant and I will each lead ten men out tonight. We will split up as soon as we leave the camp. Half will go south with the lieutenant and the other half with me, north. We ride four miles east and then the four columns will work their way back to a point here, “ I gestured to a line on the map. “It is about a mile from the camp. Sergeant Manet has been out while we were getting the water and placed a line of white stones in the shape of an arrow where the line is.” The sergeant’s biggest problem had been collecting enough white stones. He had seen no one but it was daylight and I suspected that the Turks hid during the day and closed with the camp at night time to observe our patrols leaving at dawn.

  “Horse holders will stay with the horses and then we will move forwards. I am sure they have men watching. I want us to capture or kill those men. Muskets will be no good so leave them here. Pistols and swords will be all that we will need. Make sure your men know what to do. No spurs tonight, they will only trip us up.”

  When Jean returned, he too had casualties as had Charles. Between them they had lost five men. “I think you are right Robbie, they are waiting for us. Good luck tonight.” He looked thin and drawn. The war of attrition was not just about dead bodies; it was about damaged minds and spirits too.

  I lead Sergeant Manet and eighteen others to the north. It had been slightly cooler during the day and the September evening was much cooler. For once we were glad of our woollen uniforms. There was no moon and we had to move carefully to avoid injury to our horses on the rock strewn desert. The sergeant knew where we were and he suddenly pointed to the ground. There was an arrow. “There sir!”

  “Well done sergeant. You take your men towards the camp. I will move further south.”

  The sergeant’s patrol dismounted and we rode half a mile towards the lieutenant’s men who were, hopefully, ahead of us. With two men watching the horses we only had eight of us to find the enemy but I was fairly certain that the watchers would be few in number.

  It was my nose which alerted me to their presence. It was the now, unmistakeable smell of camel. Once you had smelled camel you never forgot its pungent aroma. I held up my hand and my men froze. I could see nothing ahead but there appeared to be a rise. I crept forward and then slithered along the ground. I hoped I would not disturb a scorpion or a snake; that would be an inglorious way to die. I took off my helmet as I neared the rise. I peered over the top with just my forehead and eyes showing. There, below me were five camels and their riders. One was watching the camp and the others were sleeping. I slipped back down the slope and gathered my men around me. I held up five fingers and they nodded. I pointed to two and gestured for them to go to the right. I gestured for two more to go to the left and the others I pointed to me. They nodded and we crept forwards.

  I led my three troopers up to the rise. I put my helmet back on as I needed both hands. I drew my pistol and the others did the same. We were just descending the slope when there was a crack of pistols to the south. My other men had made contact. Of course the four sleeping men awoke. There was no point in being silent any longer. I fired my pistol at one of the Ottomans as I yelled, “Fire!”

  The pistols all cracked together and I drew my sword. One of the enemy had not fallen to a musket ball and he ran for a camel. A camel is not a horse and you have to mount whilst it kneels. It gave me the time to race over and to stab him in the side. “Secure these camels!”

  I had a half smile on my face as the troopers warily approached the camels. The ones we had met so far appeared to be bad tempered, flatulent, spitting machines; it was no wonder our horses disliked them. “Corporal, check that the Turks are dead and take charge here.”

  I ran back to the horses and mounted Killer, “Take the horses to the corporal and then head back to the camp with the bodies and the camels. I will go and find the others.”

  As they obeyed I headed south towards the sounds of the firing. I discovered Tiny and the rest of the southern patrols. “There were six Turks sir. All dead. We had two men wounded.” I frowned. I had hoped to avoid any casualties.

  “Very good. Take the bodies and the camels back to Versailles. I will follow. I will find Sergeant Manet.”

  I headed north in case the sergeant had found any other watchers. The lack of firing suggested not. I intended heading back to the first arrow just to make sure. I was close to that point when I felt Killer falter and whinny. That meant trouble. Even as my hand went to my sword a figure leapt from the rocks to dash me to the ground. My sword fell from my hand and the wind was knocked from me as the Turk crashed on top of me. His hand came towards me and there was a wicked looking blade in it. I made a feeble attempt to deflect it with my fist. I managed to turn it but the edge scored a deep wound in my right hand. I punched as hard as I could with my left hand and felt it connect with the side of his head. It was powerful enough to knock him from me. As I jumped to my feet I grabbed the stiletto from my boot. I could feel the blood dripping from my wounded hand. It felt like a bad wound and I needed to finish this quickly.

  Although my assailant was not as tall as me he was stocky and powerfully built. This would not be easy; especially with only one hand. I took in the way he was dressed. He had light shoes and baggy trousers. That gave me an advantage. I feinted with my knife, held in my left hand. He countered with his knife. As we closed I stamped with the heel of my boot on his foot. I heard the crunch of bones breaking before he screamed in agony and fell backwards. I dived at him and plunged my knife into his throat
. His body shivered and then fell still.

  My hand was bleeding from the deep cut and I had to stop the flow. I grabbed his head dress and wrapped it tightly around my bleeding hand. I whistled and Killer galloped over. I took the dead man’s knife and thrust it into my belt. I dragged myself up on to Killer’s back and looked to see where his mount was. I was relieved to find that it was a horse and not a camel. I rode next to it and, tying my reins around the pommel of my saddle led the horse with my left hand. I kicked Killer in the flanks and he trotted off towards the distant camp. He knew the way back to the camp and I could just concentrate on staying upright. I had been lucky and I knew it.

  The vedettes saw me and shouted, “Halt who goes there?”

  I answered, “Captain Macgregor,” and then everything went black as I tumbled to the ground.

  Chapter 5

  I dreamt that I was falling from a high tower. I seemed to tumble over and over. Even as I descended there were knives and swords hacking at me and birds pecking at my eyes. I was trying to scream but no sound came from me. I could hear the maniacal laugh of Mama Tusson and the ground was rushing up at me.

  Suddenly there was an acrid smell in my nose and I found myself coughing. I heard a voice say, “There you. Smelling salts, they work every time.

  I opened my eyes and saw Jean and the colonel looking at me with concern written all over their faces. With them was an officer I did not recognise. The colonel clapped him on the back, “Thank you doctor. We were quite worried there and wondered if we had lost our Scotsman.”

  “It was touch and go. He lost a great deal of blood but he is strong and young. He will recover. I want no duties for him for at least two weeks. When I take those stitches out we can consider giving him light duty.”

  “Don’t worry. He will not move.”

  After he had gone Jean shook his head. “Reckless Robbie! Why did you go off alone?”

  “I wanted to make sure that all the other troopers were safe.”