Napoleon's Guard

by Griff Hosker

  Jean’s bugler sounded recall and the thirty survivors of the 17th and the Guards gathered. I looked for familiar faces and saw both Jean and Tiny. I desperately scanned the field for the two sergeants but they were not to be seen. As we headed back to the infantry we checked every trooper that we saw. I found the two sergeants quite close together. From the bodies around them they had been surrounded and killed many of their enemies before they were overcome. Sergeant Manet and Delacroix’s bodies were hacked to pieces. I dismounted. Jean asked, “What are you doing? There are still Turks out there.”

  “Then sir, you can go on but I am going to bury two comrades and not leave their bodies for the jackals and the vultures.”

  Tiny and the rest of the squadron dismounted. We used the scimitars of the dead Ottomans to dig two graves and then we reverently laid their bodies next to each other. Some of the troopers had found other dead friends and they joined the two sergeants in this lonely and deserted grave. We covered their bodies with the cloaks from the Ottomans and then laid the scimitars on top. We would honour our dead with the spoils of war. Finally we covered them with soil and piled rocks on the sand. We stood with bare and bowed heads. After a few minutes’ silent prayer and remembrance the thirty who remained rode back to the army.

  The rest of the cavalry had returned much earlier and General Kléber was delighted to see us. “I feared I had lost you all.” He looked at the numbers. “This is a sad sight and I am afraid that our work is not finished. The populace of Cairo have anticipated a Turkish victory and they have risen. We have an insurrection to suppress. Major, take your men and ride to Alexandria I want every French warship and transport to remain in the harbour.” He shrugged, “There may only be a handful but we may need them all soon.”

  Jean lowered his voice. “Do you intend to flee sir? We have not enough ships.”

  “I know but we may be able to save the sick and wounded. I will not have the men who serve me suffer poison.”

  “Sir.”

  “When you have done that then return to Cairo. I will have need of you there.”

  We missed the general’s return to Cairo but the revolt was put down effectively although many of the local population died. It bred much bad feeling. Alexandria, in contrast, was relatively peaceful. I wondered why the general did not withdraw to the port. Jean explained, “Cairo is the key to Egypt and if we lost that we would have to leave. We have not enough ships.”

  When we reached the port there was the ‘Carillon’ and six other ships at anchor. They would barely be able to take off the wounded and even then would have to escape the blockade. The new admiral was not Nelson and I could not see him turning a blind eye to our withdrawal. François was not optimistic. “We might be able to evade capture but not those merchant ships; they are too slow. I hope the general knows what he is doing.”

  “What else can he do? He is not Bonaparte and he will not desert his men.”

  François spoke to the three of us quietly. “If things go badly then get here and I will try to wait for you and take you off.”

  “We could not leave our men.”

  “Nevertheless the offer is still there and besides,” he pointed at the small number of troopers who lounged on the harbour wall, “I could easily take all of your men.” It was a sobering thought that when we had sailed from Malta all those years ago it had taken a transport to take us all to Egypt and now we would fit on the sloop.

  The journey back to Cairo was depressing. Jean looked ill as well as depressed. Since Albert had been killed I noticed that he rarely smiled and had lost the spark of life. I suspect he had also worried about me when I had been on my two missions. He was still watching over me for my mother.

  Cairo was like a powder keg and we were all confined to barracks. Lone soldiers were found with their throats cut. General Kléber had the culprits hanged but there were many young men willing to die for their religion. In May we were told of another band of Mamelukes who had been seen near to Suez. The five hundred cavalry who remained were sent to intercept them. General Kléber could not take the army from Cairo. The colonel of the dragoon had a wounded leg and so the command fell to Lieutenant Colonel Hougon. He took great delight in giving us the worst of the march. We were forced to the rear of the column where we ate the dust of the rest of the cavalry. Jean had ordered the men to wear their cloaks and it kept much of the dust from us but our horses suffered.

  The scouts discovered the Mamelukes camped at the end of a dry valley. There were three thousand of them and we numbered barely five hundred. Lieutenant Colonel Hougon devised a plan. “We will use the 17th and the Guards as bait. You will ride down the valley and they will pursue you. We will wait on either side of the valley and fall upon them as they pass.”

  It seemed a good plan but neither Jean nor I were happy about the prospect of waiting for others to rescue us. We were however, still soldiers of France and we obeyed our orders.

  As we headed down the defile I confided my fears to Jean. “I do not like this one bit Jean. I don’t trust that Hougon.”

  “You are a soldier of France now Robbie. You obey orders. You have done too many missions for the general and become used to making your own decisions. This is a good plan. We are the smallest squadron and the best. Would you have others risk their lives?”

  “No sir, if it was anyone else other than Hougon in command then I would not worry, but it is, and he hates us.”

  Jean laughed, “And you think he would jeopardise the whole battle just to get revenge on us. I think you have too great an opinion of yourself.” He halted the column. “We need to get ourselves seen and then flee as though we are filling our breeches.” They all laughed. Despite our losses we were all in good spirits. “Lieutenant, take four men and scout out the camp.”

  Tiny detached his men and they trotted off towards the camp we knew was hidden at the end of the defile. Killer was as fit as he had ever been. He had had the advantage of a restful home for some time whilst the others had been kept hard at it for weeks. He looked like a horse fresh from the stables. He was eager to run and I had to restrain him.

  Suddenly we heard the sound of muskets and Tiny, three troopers and an empty saddle rode towards us. “Bugler sound retreat!”

  We turned and trotted slowly until Tiny caught up with us. “Sir there is nearer five thousand of them than three thousand and they are coming.” He pointed over his shoulder and we could see the Mamelukes galloping down the valley. They were too close to us for comfort.

  “Ride hard!”

  The troopers needed no urging and we all whipped our horses. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that they had camels. They were slower than our horses but they could keep going for longer. I looked to the hillsides but could see nothing. Where was that damned Hougon?

  The first troopers who died had the weaker horses and the Mamelukes caught them. We heard their screams as they were butchered. Killer was coping easily with the run and I had to hold him back or I would have out run the rest of the depleted squadron. We heard firing, at last, but it was far behind us and seemed to be closer to the Mameluke camp than the hillsides. Then we heard the thundering of the camels as the Ottomans gradually closed with us.

  “Bugler sound halt!” Jean turned to me, “We cannot out run them. We will have to turn and fight.”

  I nodded. We reined in and leapt from our horses. I had no musket but I had my two pistols. “Steady! Fire when they are close enough!”

  The pistols and muskets all cracked at the same time and the camels and their riders fell as though they had been struck by rope. “Mount! Draw sabres.”

  We clambered back on our horses and rode towards the enemy. It was not foolish bravery; it was the only thing we could do. Killer was still fresh and he launched himself at the leading camels. He did not like camels but he was not afraid of them. I hacked at one rider’s leg and my sword severed the bootless limb below the knee. The edge sliced into the camel which lurched into the next camel. On
my left the camel rider swung his scimitar at my head; my colpack bore the brunt and I stabbed upwards into his chest. I had no time for self congratulation as three horsemen rode at me. I pulled hard on Killer’s reins and he reared up to strike one of the horses on the head. It collapsed taking its rider to his death. I let go of the reins and drew my empty pistol. I parried one scimitar as I lunged at the other rider. My sword struck home but his dying arm sliced down to cut my thigh and Killer’s side. I sensed rather than saw the other rider swing his scimitar at my head. I ducked and stabbed him through the thigh and into his horse. Both fell to the ground in a bloody heap.

  I realised that I was alone and I turned. The rest of the troopers were surrounded by enemies and I whipped Killer’s head around and charged towards them. I saw troopers falling to enemies who outnumbered them three to one. Tiny and Jean were fighting furiously back to back, protecting each other while the remnants of the squadron fought countless enemies. I had the advantage of attacking unprotected backs and I ruthlessly hacked a passage to my comrades. To my horror I saw that there was just Jean and Tiny left. I redoubled my efforts. A Mameluke turned and raised his musket to shoot me. I rode straight at him. The musket fired but I was too close to him and I skewered him on my sword. Then I saw Tiny, my friend, fall. His head had been severed. The killer was despatched himself by Jean who, in turn, was stabbed in the back. I kicked Killer on and managed to kill the Mameluke who was about to deliver the coup de grace. I grabbed Jean’s horse’s reins and galloped as hard as I could. Musket balls buzzed around us but I kept my head down and just galloped.

  They must have thought that we were not worth pursuing. After a mile with no noise behind I turned and saw that we were not being followed. I halted and leapt from Killer. I lowered Jean to the ground. He was as white as a sheet. His eyes were closed as I opened his tunic. His stomach had been laid open. I took his cloak from his saddle and tore it into strips.

  I heard his voice and he opened his eyes. “It is finished Robbie. I am dying. Leave me.”

  “Never! I will take you back.”

  “Then you will be carrying a corpse. Leave me and leave Egypt. If you stay here then you will die.”

  His eyes closed and I thought he was dead. “Jean! Jean!”

  His eyes flickered open briefly. “You have been like a son to me Robbie. Your mother would have been proud of you. Go back to your roots and I will go to your…” And then he died.

  I don’t know how long I held him in my arms it seemed like forever. Suddenly there was a thump from behind me and I turned to see Killer lying on the ground gasping for air. I gently laid Jean down and ran to my horse. The musket had missed me but not Killer and my brave horse had carried me beyond his capabilities. He had been cut by a scimitar and by numerous musket balls. I held his head and stroked him. “You have been a good horse. Now run free.” He tried to lift his nuzzle to my face and then he too, closed his eyes and died.

  I cried. I am not ashamed to say it. I had not cried for many years but I did there in that oven of a desert. I cried for my dead comrades and I cried for my horse. I was alone and I wept like a child. I did not even care if the Turks found me. My life could have ended there and then and I would not have minded. My whole world had been destroyed. And then a hard resolve filled me. I would get my revenge on the man who had betrayed us. Lieutenant Colonel Hougon would die. I dug a grave for my horse and my friend. It took some time but I was determined to do it. I used Jean’s horse to drag Killer into the grave and then laid Jean on top. I covered him in his cloak, like a shroud and then covered it with sand and soil. I spent some time sweeping all traces of the grave away. I did not want anyone to disturb this tomb. I lifted my saddle onto the back of Jean’s horse. I would drop it somewhere far from the grave.

  I turned to face the dead, “Farewell Jean, if I was the son you always wanted then you became the father I never had. You fulfilled your promise to my mother and I will never forget you and the lessons you taught me. Killer I could ask for no finer horse than you. You had more courage and nobility than most soldiers. Farewell to you both.“ I took Jean’s helmet as my colpack was too badly damaged and I began to move. The sun was setting and I knew which way I had to head. There was no track and no road but the ground was flat. I nudged Jean’s horse into motion and the weary beast trudged west.

  Two miles from the grave I dropped my saddle. I still had Jean’s pistols and I loaded them. I knew I had more than twenty miles to go but I was determined that I would get there. I had a man to kill. It soon became obvious to me that I would not be able to travel much further. Jean’s horse’s pace became slower and slower. I stopped and examined him. He had gone lame and he too, like Killer, had succumbed to a wound. Although not as bad as Killer’s mortal injury it had been the scimitar wound that had been bleeding since the battle. I took the saddle off and dropped it to the ground. I used some bandages to stem the flow of blood but I knew he would not survive. I would not let him die alone. I had been with Killer until the end and Jean’s brave horse deserved no less. I led the horse by its reins and trudged on through the cold night. I did not notice the temperature. I was kept warm by the fierce flames of anger and vengeance burned inside me.

  Chapter 12

  The horse dropped and died just before dawn. I did not have the energy or the will to dig another grave and so I covered the body with rocks. With just a half empty canteen I said farewell to the last survivor of the 17th Chasseurs and headed west towards Cairo. Seventeen miles does not seem a great distance, especially not to a horseman, but when it is June, in the desert and you have not slept it is further than you would believe. It was a trackless desert. I had lost whatever road there was in the middle of the night. I knew where west was thanks to the sun on my back and I just headed in that direction. I had donned my white, hooded cloak and that kept me a little cooler than I would have otherwise been. My pistols seemed unbearably heavy and I forced myself to discard Jean’s. It hurt as it was like throwing him away but, if I was to survive, I had to travel as lightly as possible. It was hard to put one foot in front of the other. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep but I knew that as soon as I did that I would be as good as dead. My only hope was to keep moving. I found the only way I could motivate myself was to set small targets. I looked for something in the near distance and guessed how many steps it would take to reach it. Then I counted the steps. It sounds like a childish game but it worked and I derived pleasure if I got close to my number. It was in late afternoon when I saw the tips of the Pyramids appear to the south and I knew where I was. I changed my direction to strike further north. I knew that the main road from Cairo to Suez passed that way. Soon I spied the spiked turrets of the minarets of Cairo. My water had long gone but I hoped I would get some sooner rather than later.

  I am not sure I would have made it were it not for the party of engineers who were marching east to repair a damaged well. They supplied me with water and the news I sought. “Yes sir,” said the grizzled sergeant in charge of the eight man patrol, “the cavalry came back. They had a great victory. The heroes destroyed a Mameluke army and saved Cairo from attack.” They filled my canteen and watched as I trudged west determined to reach Cairo as soon as I could. Their words made me even angrier. My dead comrades were already forgotten.

  As I walked the last two miles to the city walls I reflected that history only recorded what the survivors said. The dead had no voice and Hougon thought I had died along with my comrades. He was in for a shock.

  I took off my cloak when I entered the gate. My uniform expedited my movements around the city. In the cloak I was suspicious and had to answer too many questions. When I reached headquarters I was admitted straight away and the general embraced me. “I was told you were dead! This is wonderful. Where are the others?”

  “They are dead. We were betrayed!”

  His face showed the innocence of the general. Had he shown guilt I think I might have killed him there and then. “Colonel Hougon let
us all die. We were supposed to lead the Ottomans into a trap but he was not there and we were massacred. I barely escaped with my life.” I told him all that had occurred, right down to the death of Jean.

  “The colonel tells it differently. He says you and your men charged the camp and were slaughtered he tried to rescue you but he was too late. He says he destroyed their camp.”

  “He might have destroyed their camp but he did not lift a finger to help us.”

  “Those are serious charges captain.”

  “And I will repeat them to his face. Not all of his men are as venal as he and they will tell the truth. Where is he? I will confront him here and now.”

  “He has taken the remains of the cavalry to Alexandria to recover.”

  “Then I will go there now.”

  “No! I order you to stay here!” Then his voice softened. “I will go with you the day after tomorrow. I will get to the bottom of this. Stay here.” I was still angry but I was used to obeying orders. “It is but another two days and you need rest. You will think better after food and good sleep.”

  “If he is not punished by the army then he will die by my hand. That I promise.”

  “Then you would be shot for killing a superior officer.”

  “It would be worth it to avenge my friends.”

  “I believe you. Go to your quarters and I will send a new uniform. That one is covered in blood and damaged beyond repair.” I looked at the jacket and the breeches. He was right. There were so many sword cuts that it was ruined. “I will get the surgeon to look at you.”

  I went to the room I had been allocated and undressed. I fell asleep in an instant. When I awoke the doctor was finishing binding my cuts. He nodded at my money belt. “You are a careful soldier with your valuables. It is a shame you are not more careful with your body. Take better care of it young man. You have been very lucky. Two of the wounds would have been fatal if they had been a little deeper.”