HU5 Preview Three - Cut and Run

HU5 Preview Three - Cut and Run

"First rank, fire!"

The front rank of the 24th Foot erupted into smoke. Many of the attacking column of black-clad soldiers fell, but others took their places.

Far above them, looking down from a cliff, John Churchill, the Duke of Marlborough, gazed down on the battle. His face was stern, his eyes unreadable - nothing betrayed the deep concern he felt for his army and for his cause.

The fort of Mont Sainte-Gabriel, built on a small island not far off the coast of Britanny, was a highly strategic location. It controlled all maritime access to the port of Armagnac, the capital and largest city of Charlemagne's Principality of the Franks. If it fell, an enemy could force Armagnac, push on to Charlemagne's mountain citadels and then sweep through the enchanted hills to Metropolitan France. It was therefore imperative at Mont Sainte-Gabriel held.

ReGenesis had given command of the attack to the Governor, who himself delegated to a subordinate - the traitor Maximilian Robespierre. The Jacobin had thrown wave after wave of men at the Avalonian and Frank defenders - and with casualties mounting, the chances of them breaking through were nothing to joke about.

"Penny for your thoughts, Your Grace?"

Marlborough jumped as his naval liaison, Lieutenant-Commanding Groves, walked up.

"They're pounding hard, Groves," said Marlborough, "Very hard."

He pointed down to the 24th.

"The 24th have been holding the bluff down there for a week," he explained, "They'll hold the blackcoats off this time, but I'll need fresh troops to take their place tomorrow."

He looked up to the sea.

"I needed Wellington," he continued, "Instead I got a mail schooner and a letter telling me I was on my own."

He turned to Groves.

"We are dangerously low on powder and shot," he said gravely, "Our cavalry is useless on this terrain and our guns are reduced to three shots a piece. Without reinforcement, we cannot hold Mont Sainte-Gabriel."

"What of the Franks?" asked Groves.

"We can't send anything over the channel," replied Marlborough, "The fort stops them from sending sail towards Armagnac but it doesn't stop them from shelling the straits. Any ship sent out to us would be bombarded to hell and back."

"So what do we do, Your Grace?" asked Groves.

"Cochrane has an idea, although I fear our allies will not like it," grunted Marlborough, "I am to fight off the assault and then convene a council of war."

"Why won't the Franks like it, sir?" quizzed Groves.

"Well," Marlborough smiled humourlessly, "Have you ever heard the maxim of 'he who fights then runs away?'"

---

"NEVER! How dare you even suggest such a thing, you honourless English bastard!" thundered Marshal Ney.

"I resent that remark, sir, I am Scottish," replied Lord Thomas Cochrane.

Marlborough massaged his temple as tempers flared around him. They had met in the officer's mess - and by that, they meant a converted chapel - to hear Cochrane's plan. It hadn't gone over well with either the Avalonians or Franks.

"You are suggesting, Lord Cochrane," scowled General James Wolfe, Marlborough's 2IC, "That we abandon Armagnac to its fate! I shan't hear it! We are not cowards, damn your eyes!"

"Sacrificing an army to certain death is not bravery, it is stupidity," sniffed Cochrane, "Tomorrow morning I intend to smash through the Governor's ships and sail to join my rightful queen. You may stay and satisfy your honour, or you may join me and fight for your futures. I frankly don't care which."

"Coward!" thundered Ney, "Traitorous scum! I will not join with you! I am Ney! I fight!"

"Marshal, Lord Cochrane makes a good case."

The whole room was silenced.

Charlemagne had stood up - the tall, well-built man towered over his comrades, his armour increasing his imposing figure.

"Armagnac cannot be saved," he said, gravely, "And Frankia cannot weather this storm alone. Nor can Avalon. We must leave and regroup elsewhere. We need to gather allies."

He looked over to Marlborough.

"We shall make a line in the sand," he said, "Divide between those who will stay and those who will go. What say you, Sir John?"

"Cochrane is right," replied Marlborough, "Lord forgive me, but he is right."

"All present, state your name, unit and intention," said Charlemagne.

Ney stood up first.

"Michel Ney, staff of the Frank Garrison," he snarled, "And I shall not go."

"James Wolfe, 12th Foot," sniffed Wolfe, "We will fight to the death."

There was a long silence.

Then, a single Frank officer, dressed in silver plate armour, stepped up and raised an arm.

"Jeanne d'Arc, Regiment du Dauphin," said Joan of Arc, "We will stay with you, my king."

Several more officers spoke up after her.

"Major the Lord Edrington, 96th Foot, requesting permission not to perish, sir."

"Colonel Philipe Deveau, 5e de Linge, I will go."

Most of the rest echoed this statement, save a few ("I will stand, damn you."), and it was very quickly settled.

"Right," nodded Marlborough, "How shall we go about this, Cochrane."

"Explosively," replied Cochrane, "We'll start at first light - light the way with fire ships, shell them with artillery then ram straight through them. We'll heat our shot and set them alight on the way. If we're aggressive enough, they'll be so dazed they'll hardly shoot back."

"Right gentlemen," nodded Marlborough, "Ready the men and rest as much as you can. Tomorrow shall be a big day."

---

Marlborough and Groves walked through the cold stone corridors of the fort, heading towards the courtyard.

"Do you think Cochrane's plan will work?" asked Groves.

"It's mad enough, I'll say that," replied Marlborough.

He stepped into the courtyard and was met by rapturous cheering.

A company of the 12th had just finished drilling in the courtyard, and were now welcoming their commander. A few more enthusiastic men threw their shakos into the air - the rest began to sing.

"...Take the King's Shilling, take the King's Shilling,
Take the King's Shilling for Marlborough and me,
Salvation or danger, they shall be my destiny,
Take the King's Shilling for Marlborough and me...

Marlborough offered his men a smile and a curt nod. He then turned swiftly around and walked back into the corridor, hoping none of them had noticed the tears forming in his eyes...