The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death
As the host continued to deploy, there was no real order to it. From out of the cavalry column half a dozen riders broke away and started to canter across the field in front of the peasant mob. Distant shouts echoed out and several hundred yards away, the enemy army came to a halt.
A loud chant went up, drifting on the late afternoon breeze. From out of a high wheeled cart traveling with the cavalry there appeared several men dressed in long flowing robes of gold and silver. each carried a smoldering pot on the end of a length of chain. Swinging the pots over their heads they began to walk down the length of the line. As one, the thousands of men dropped to their knees.
"They're blessing themselves." Pat O'Donald whispered, and even as he spoke he made the sign of the cross, as did many of the men in his command. Watching through his field glasses he observes, "Looks like they are doing it backwards though." He mumbles.
After another brief conversation,
"Load solid shot!" O'Donald bellows.
"35th Maine, fix bayonets!" Colonel Keane commands. "Companies C through K, prime and load." Hundreds of rammers are pulled, charges bitten open and powder and shot slammed in.
"Companies A and B load blank charges only and deploy behind the artillery." Men are looking nervously around them, wondering what their commander is planning. "C through K companies, you will fire only on my command. I want all weapons at shoulder arms. I will personally shoot any man who levels a rifle before my command."
The regiment silent, almost numbed by the bizarre sight before them. Colonel Keane faced the double rank of companies drawn up behind the artillery.
"I don't think they understand who we are. If we give them a good scare without bloodshed we might be able to talk with them later. It'll be up to them, but when I give the command, aim high and fire off a damned good volley. Then we'll see what happens."
"One of them coming up, sir." Sergeant Major Hans says as he comes up to stand beside Colonel Keane.
A lone horseman bearing the crossed swords standard started to gallop toward their line. As the horseman drew closer he was like something out of a Sir Walter Scott novel. An armored knight coming to demand submission. But the man approaching looked more like a ragged beggar than a knight. His armor was nothing more than a dozen heavy plates stitched to a leather tunic. A sword belted at his waist and the heavy lance he carried glinting in the reddish sun. There was something not quite right about that sun. Too big perhaps?
"K Kakomu boyaru vy podchinyaetes?" The rider called out to Colonel Keane who had mounted the defensive perimeter. He shook his head in response to the rider.
"Nemedlenno mne otvechayte! Boyary Ivor-i-Boros trebuyut bashey nemedlennoy sdachi."
Colonel Keane extended his right hand outwards.
"I am Colonel Keane of the 35th Maine Volunteers, of the United States Army."
The rider reined back his horse several paces.
"Vy yazychnik, vy ne govorite po hashemv yazyku. Zavaytes!"
There was a note of fear in the mans voice and there was something strangely familiar about the language.
"O'Donald, get out here!"
The rider watches the towering red headed Irishman clamber out of the gun position and reins his horse back several more paces.
"You said you saw them make the sign of the cross?"
"That I did colonel."
"Then do likewise."
A look of solemn concentration comes over Pat's face and raising his right hand, he made the sign of the Catholic faith.
"Vy nad nami nasheetivayes!" The horseman roars, leaning forward he spits on the ground and gallops back to the waiting host.
"I think we better get inside." Pat says as he drags Colonel Keane back into their position.
"You made a mistake!" Emil shouted, trying to be heard of the roaring host.
"How?"
"I'll tell you later." Emil shakes his head and heads back to the medical tent.
Andrew cursed at himself as he realized the mistake.
"Here they come, Colonel" Hans shouted.
By the thousands the infantry started forward, the cavalry swinging wide toward the beach at a canter.
"When I tell you Pat. Companies A and B, present!" A hundred rifles come to shoulder, aimed high into the air. Colonel Keane waited until the enemy were within 200 yards...
"Fire!"
A sheet of flame and smoke snapped out, the thundering volley echoing across the field. The wild advance slowed, nearly halting.
"Now Pat, let's scare the devil out of them."
O'Donald shouldered the gunner aside, grabbed the lanyard and pulled. The Napoleon canon leaped back, belching a tongue of fire and billowing smoke, the thunderclap echoing across the field.
Through the thick smoke, the men of the 35th and 44th Maine could see thousands of peasants throwing aside their pitchforks and clubs and streaming to the rear in panic. A total and complete rout! And a great cheer rises up from the men.
(OOC)
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