[The Marshall]

Frigid winds whipped needles of snow into Lieutenant General Gulliemont's cheeks. He shivered and clutched at his bearskin coat with fingers turned numbed by the cold Russian winter. His breath fogged the air and left a trail of frost on his collar which he did not seem to notice. Icy sweat deluged the once fine uniform he'd worn every day since the Grande Armee began its campaign in the spring of 1812. He rubbed his hands and trudged through the snow. With each step, the cold penetrated deeper into his flesh making him shiver.

He remembered the attack they grappled with the Russians,. It had been brutal and savage and by god, did they manage to survive. Other regiments wouldn't adhered endured the weather conditions as Gulliemont's regiment had. His 108th had survived against all the odds. They had fought the beasts, known as the Cossacks. They had pounded off the Russian soldiers now slowly regaining their strength.

Twelve months had departed by since their invasion. It was nothing now. A small scattered army running away from the wrath of the Russian Army, they had found the perfect opportunity to take back their homeland. For nature accumulated its toll on the Grandee Armee. Winter had caused the annihilation of Napoleon's army. Since occupying Moscow, he had discovered it burdensome to write the Russians out of the map as they kept on retreating after every battle he fought with them. And a frustated Bonaparte to ranted '' If these Russians are so brave why don't they face us? Why run away from us when we can beat them? And the Romanovs have escaped to Sweden! By all the Gods, I shall crush the Russians if I see any of them in battle! '' The Legions of his Grand Army weren't formidable to nature;such was an tragic fate for many of them ; few survived as they retreated to France.

Corporal Jacque Renard slogged through the snow towards him with obvious haste, holding his frost-coated black shako in place. The snow particles pinched and stung around his face like a horde of angry bees. His shako had been a bright black back then but now, it was a cold hard white hat as if death had sucked the life out of it. Even the pom pom situated on it was frozen white. And then he snapped to attention. ‘A report, mon general’

Gulliemont nodded that he might proceed.

‘Our scouts have sighted a Russian cavalry unit approaching from the north east. They’ll cut us off before we reach the pass.’

‘Merde!’ muttered Gulliemont. How could Nature be so cruel as to allow them to march across half Russia only to be slaughtered within sight of Poland and salvation? ‘How many?’

‘Perhaps a hundred, maybe more.’

‘Cossacks?’

Renard shook his head. ‘Regulars, sir.’

Gulliemont nodded and thanked the signia of the eagle he carried. His men had learned to fear the merciless thugs on horses who harassed their pickets in the darkness and stole their food supplies with astonishing efficiency. ‘Muster the men, Sergeant. When they arrive, we’ll have to form square or die.’

Renard saluted and then spun away towards the large group of some hundred ragged beggars who had once formed the core of the 108th Regiment of Grenadiers and. He respected his general, which was just as well since all the other officers in the regiment had died over the past few weeks leaving him as effective second in command.

The 108th regiment had been separated from the Grande Armee a week before. A skirmish against Russian soldiers had misled them to be in the punishing cold they had now been suffering from.

The perils of the battles and environment resulted in only one hundred surviving men men, Colonel Jacque and Lieutenant General Gulliemont being the only seniors and the scout Choinburnt barely survived to tell the tale of the his narrow escape from the dangerous fever which almost killed him. Some soldiers died in the shadows while other’s had frozen to death without being noticed, the rest had been buried in the snow. Their comrades and the 108th regiment saluted them as the bodies of veteran soldiers, friends and family, that had fought with them in the Great wars, now descended into the whiteness of the snow. It only bridled anger and hatred in his regiment for the Russians and their damn cossacks. They had fought a war in which the enemy retreated.

[The Marshall]

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[The Marshall]

So did you enjoy it? You found anything wrong in it?

[The Marshall]

Apart from the previously brimming and proud men of the newly formed 108th that had set out with the army to conquer Russia, they were tatters of an once great army. The regiment wasn't enough to fill the ranks of battle. It was weakened. Other soldiers suffered in the same condition as Gulliemont and Jacque. Wearing furry coats and deep thermal clothing to keep them warm had done nothing to protect them against the extreme blizzards that flew into them as little fairies that couldn't be seen upon horses of snow firing arrows at the Frenchmen. The cold was too extreme, attacking them from all sides. Nature had come on the side of Mother Russia.

They were walked through an abandoned town. The doors remained half broken hanging from the hinges.The windows broken and full of snow and dirt dripping onto the wet floors. It covered everywhere, on the pavements making them redundant and slippery. Snow had already become the blanket for this dusty town. The trees stood in silence, as they had, for thousands of years since the beginning of the earth.

Gulliemont's regiment had been separated from the Grande Armee a week before. A skirmish against Russian soldiers had misled them to be in the punishing cold they had now been suffering from. The perils of the battles and environment resulted in only one hundred surviving men men, Jacque and Gulliemont being the only seniors and Choinburnt barely survived to tell the tale of the his narrow escape from the dangerous fever which almost killed him. Gulliemont's regiment had been separated from the Grande Armee a week before.Some soldiers died in the shadows while other’s had frozen to death without being noticed, the rest had been buried in the snow. They had saluted them as the bodies descended into the darkness. It only caused anger and hatred in his regiment. They had fought a war totally unsuited for them.

Apart from the previously brimming and proud men that had set out with the army to conquer Russia, they were tatters of an once great army. The regiment wasn't enough to fill the ranks of battle. It was weakened. Other soldiers suffered in the same condition as Gulliemont and Jacque. Wearing furry coats and deep thermal clothing to keep them warm had done nothing to protect them against the extreme blizzards that flew into them as little fairies that couldn't be seen upon horses of snow firing arrows at the Frenchmen. The cold was too extreme, attacking them from all sides. Nature had come on the side of Mother Russia.

Jacque grumbled as he trudged in the heavy snow. His feet formed big gaps in the deep snow, his breath let out a small fog of air in the gust of the blizzard blowing it away. Gulliemont was the last surviving officer of the regiment that had led them through many plains and mountains to get out of Russia and none of them had proved successful. This was the last time he resolved to himself that he was going to attempt a journey to escape from Russia.

He couldn’t see much in front of him. Various shapes formed in front of him.They were too far away to be seen. What he could see was the sound of the blowing wind. And the snow particles coming directly in his face, pinching him, he spitted out some snow from his mouth. From behind him shadows appeared of his regiment. He stopped and pulled his hands to his eyebrows trying to see anything that from where they could rest. All he could see was snow flying around with the wind's antagonized gust's blowing through them.

[The Marshall]

So, what do you think of it? Anywhere where I can improve?

[The Marshall]

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[The Marshall]

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[The Marshall]

‘’ Choinburnt! ‘’ he called out with a harsh dry voice, with no reply of hope. If they were nowhere near the border among Russia and Poland, they would be dead. Choinburnt hurried to Gulliemont.

‘’ What news? Where are we? ‘’ he asked.

‘’ We’re somewhere near the border sir! ‘’ Choinburnt replied. He was one of the last surviving scout of the regiment and Gulliemont had no choice but to depend on him for directions. It had been well known that he was a good director and on many occasions had led regiments back to the army, only the Russian Campaign proved disastrous for him, so far not a single regiment had surivied because of him. This was his last regiment to lead back before he would be posted to Toulouse, where the English were attacking.

‘’ What did you say? ‘’ Gulliemont stopped as he heard his reply, a glimmer of hope, maybe they could once and for all escape from this damn blasted Russian winter.

'' Yes, Sir! We're near the border! I know it because we tracked here at the start of the invasion! Look over there! '' He pointed his finger at a small line thinly visible from the naked eye. It was indeed the very way they had first walked into Russia, and were now running back to it. Beyond it was Poland, and then the journey back to France. It would take months now. If they managed to make it through this winter.

'' I can't believe it! Ha! Don't worry boys! We've reached the border! We'll be soon back to Poland and then to France! '' He shouted back and a cheer was heard from his men, despite the bitterness of the cold attacking them.

'' Now, what about the food? '' Gulliemont asked.

'' We don't have much food left; it was stolen by the cossacks at noon. '' Choinburnt replied with a hint of bitterness.

'' Damn those cossacks! They always seem to have come at us and steal our food. Cowards.....'' His voice went to a mutter.

'' Any cossacks you see, I want you to shoot him in the head!'' That caused a great cheer from his men.

'' You sure you trust that scout? '' Jacque asked.

'' He's the only man that can scout for us, and the fact that he knows how to lead us away from here. ''

'' What? Him, a scout? How would you expect a scout to lead you all the way except cook food when he's supposed to! The only one we have left? There were so many officers and they died out there sir! If you ask me I wouldn't put my faith in a scout, especially how many of them have defected to the Russians!.''

'' Oh, so we're to be misrepresented? Are we? '' Choinburnt asked.

'' Yes, what use does a scout have to lead us? ''

'' Are you out of your mind? You know very well that only I know where we're going! ''

'' You? How do you know where we are going? We're in Russia, for god-damn sake! ''

'' And you think that I caused the destruction? ''

'' Why yes! Because you just caused the destruction of our legion! We don't even have a flag nor a regiment name. And that's all due to you '' Jacque replied back.

'' And how did I do that? I didn't lead the regiment to havoc; rather you fought with the Russians when I said not to! ''

'' A cook does not give orders! '' Jacque reminded him.

'' Of course I do, if it weren't for me, you would have died now ''

'' Enough!! '' Gulliemont shouted.

'' I'll have you both quartered and hung naked here and leave your bodies to rot! Right now we have one objective. To get out of this damn place once and for all! We are the Emperor's men. He does not reward hesitation nor cowardice. I know that very well. Our mission right now is to get back to Poland, where we will join the Grand army.'' He pointed to the thin line that was now vanishing from their eyes.

'' Halt! '' He shouted. His men looked at him threateningly. '' We don't want to stop sir! We want to go back to France! '' One of the soldiers replied back.

'' Quiet! Or I'll have you executed! '' He barked back. He raised his hand to stop anymore of his men moving. He blinked for a second, and then turned his head back and forth. Even if they were that close to the border, there was still the danger of the Russians. And they weren't giving up on this one. The gusts blew through the windows, a shattered piece of wood suddenly landed onto ice and broke into pieces in a second, producing a shattering sound.

Gulliemont jumped at the call of a trumpet. The Russians had arrived. It was these soldiers they previously had fought with. Now they were back and wouldn't miss an opportunity to finish them off. Gulliemont burst out in anger. They had fought the Russians and they retreated, and now they it was they that retreated.

He quickly gave orders. ‘’ Form Square! Don’t bother with your coats for now, leave them in the square. Now hurry before these darn Russians come in! ‘’ The soldiers quickly formed and hurried into a square formation.

'' Our coats? '' a reply came from the ranks of the fusiliers.

'' Yes, your coats damn it! '' Gulliemont shouted.

'' Why our coats? We'll freeze without them! ''

'' By the gods! Are you all cowards? You are the finest soldiers in the world! I know the weather is freezing but we will die fighting like true soldiers for France! Just do as I say or you'll be sitting ducks in front of those Russians! Now take of your coats! Men of the 108th , prepare for your final countdown! If we survive, then tell these stories to your grandchildren! If not, then we die fighting for France. Vive Le Emperur! '' They took of their packs and coats. And then there was the true magnificent sight of the French soldiers, their blue uniforms and white trousers were presented in full colour.

The Line Fusilier lent in the first line was on the ground with their white trousers forming blended with the snow. The white surcoats were already placed into their uniforms. And dark blue coats were waiting to enter action. The red collars were straightened, along with the white lapels and cuffs as they prepared to get ready for the oncoming onslaught. The Second line of fusiliers were standing straight and waiting for new orders.

‘’ Load your muskets, you dogs! ‘’ Gulliemont shouted. The Fusiliers grounded their muskets and started to load the muzzle into the barrel. Once done they fixed the bayonets and pulled back the flintlock.

‘’ On my order you will fire! ‘’ He barked.

‘’ What can I do? ‘’ asked Choinburnt.

‘’ Here, take this. ‘’ Gulliemont said in a hurry as he gave his sword to Choinburnt.

‘’A sword? What am I going to do with a sword!! ‘’ he shouted.

‘’ Oh shut up Choinburnt! We've had enough of you for one day! ‘’ replied one of the fusiliers in the back.

Then a loud and blasting sound was heard that stopped all conversation in the French side. They came in the mists. Hundreds of green uniformed Russian Soldiers armed with muskets wore green uniforms and white belts strapped to them advanced. Walking with bayonets pointing forward at the French. Their leaders shouting words of encouragement on their horses to their men. Many of the Russian Cavalry were seated on horses armed with swords and wearing breastplates with tiny helmets with white stallions decorated onto them.

The shakos were tightly placed on them. They shouted curses as they walked towards the advancing square. A sea of bayonets advanced to the French Square. These Russians held their muskets straight at the French. There were many of them, infantry and cavalry. What hope could a tiny square of one hundred men could do against such a large force?

However, the will of the Frenchman had always been to fight on and they weren't the ones going to go down without a fight. It had always been in their ancestor’s blood. Since the time of Caesar, they had been undoubtedly the best warriors in Europe.

‘’ I came here. I will stay here. ‘’ muttered Gulliemont as he eyed the horde of Russians.

‘’ On my order, you will fire at them! ‘’ he ordered. The Russian Cavalry advanced in hordes coming so close Gulliemont thought he would have fainted. The Russian infantry did not have any regimental banners or drummers. They had come in their hundreds. Gulliemont suddenly noticed that they were not walking in formation. They were coming separately, one at a time.

‘’ Right men! These Russians are not coming in any formation! Hold out and brace yourselves for the cavalry lads! This is going to be a real ride! ‘’ He shouted .The Russians got closer and closer. Hurling themselves up, The Russian’s mouths were agape as they shouted their war cries, their officers urging them on with their swords high in the sky.

‘’ Ready Muskets on the first line! ‘’ Gulliemont ordered. The order was repeated among the first line as they grounded their muskets into the heavy snow and began biting the ends of the fresh cartridges before spitting the balls and ramming it down onto the barrel of the musket. The second line had already loaded their guns previously. They waited, waiting to fire onto the enemy.

'' So freezing.... '' Jacque shivered as he bit of his second cartridge spitting the chewed paper into the snow.

'' Silence in the ranks! The 108th does not talk of cowardice! But by god we shall go out there and kill them all! '' Gulliemont bellowed.

When the foremost of the Russian infantry came at about thirty paces. Gulliemont bellowed.

‘’ Fire! ''

[InternetGangster]

Try harder next time.

[The Doggfather]

You can always improve I guess

[The Marshall]

Hi there, thanks for the feedback, what was it you felt that needed harder? What do you want me to do improve? Did you enjoy it? Did you hate it?

[The Marshall]

See? Told you I was willing to accept feedback.

[The Marshall]

‘’ Fire! ''

A loud thunderous volley was released from the Frenchmen’s muskets. It shattered the oncoming Russians, throwing them into a cloud of smoke, of which neither could they see. But the French had more accuracy as indiviual soldiers and kept on firing. Cries and groans of pain and dying came from the Russian ranks in reply.

‘’ Second Line, ready! On my order, first line to the back! ‘’ The First line went into where the second line had previously been adjusted. The Second lines of Infantry were now standing up readying for the oncoming impact that was about to engulf them.

‘’ Second Line, Load!!! First line will fire! ‘’

The Russians had advanced among their fallen comrades laying down on the snow and were now ten paces away, much closer and were about to bring the destruction of the tiny square. ‘’ Fire! ‘’ was repeated on both sides. A ragged volley was produced by both lines, causing casualties. Losses were immense.

But that did not shatter the morale of the already advancing Russians oncoming. They did not care now. The Grande Armee was no longer invincible to them.

‘’ All Lines will load and fire! ‘’ Gulliemont bellowed. He was suddenly enjoying this. His promotion being held to a halt, his superiors had always tried to put him down. When he got back to France and told the Emperor of this, they wouldn't do anything. Today was his chance to prove his might and make his fame. If he won this battle by a miracle. Otherwise the battle was strikingly in favour of the Russians.
.
"Fire," shouted the general. "Where is the man," he muttered under his breath, as the range of 5,000 muskets rang through the air. " Jacque, what's happened to Choinbrunt, have you seen him anywhere?"

Jacque nodded a no.

"I don't know, General, he was here at the start of the battle"

"Load!" Gulliemont ordered again. "Take aim! Fire! Go and find Choinbrunt, he's our last hope, if he dies, we're stuck here. ."

"Very well, Sir." He flinched as another round of fire blasted below him among the ranks, then eyed to see how many Russians had fallen.

A devastating volley released from the muskets and crushed the Russians in front of them, falling in piles. By now, the Russians were not in many numbers, but more came, replacing their fallen comrades.

One of the Russian Officers cursed out in French as he led a group of soldiers armed with muskets and grenades. He waved the flag he was holding and drew his sword to attack. They were much closer to the square by now.

‘’ Prepare for double impact! When they come, we fire! And then we will engage! Do not move out of your square. Keep the formation. Do not move at all! ‘’

The little square reeled suddenly under the heavy impact of the Russians, causing a collision.

’’ Fire!’’ Gulliemont ordered and a ragged volley was produced by his men. ‘’ Engage! ‘’ the order was repeated among the French lines, who went to grips to arms with the Russians. They fought like ferocious beasts despite the firm resistance of the French square; it was the usual bayonet-to-bayonet attacks as the French were gradually being separated away by the Russians. The Russians, swinging their muskets fiercely, used them like clubs.

[Banishingboredom]

Never read such nonsense in my entire life. It's not even 'so bad it's funny', it's just drudge. It also makes 300 look like a historical documentary, it's so inaccurate.

[The Marshall]

(Original post by Banishingboredom)
Never read such nonsense in my entire life. It's not even 'so bad it's funny', it's just drudge. It also makes 300 look like a historical documentary, it's so inaccurate.

Your choice mate. You hate it, fine by me. Inaccurate? I made a fiction out of Napoleon's invasion of Russia. I'm sure Bernard Cornwall made fiction about Sharpe, and they weren't historically accurate. I have no intention of getting into a fight,but if you hate it,fine by me. I'll still post, you can't spam here with hating the story anyway.

There'll be people who hate and like my stories. So you're not the first to hate my story anyway!

But thanks for taking the time to read the story even if you didn't like it.

[The Marshall]

However, the will of the Frenchman had always been to fight on and they weren't the ones going to go down without a fight. It had always been in their ancestor’s blood. Since the time of Caesar, they had been undoubtedly the best warriors in Europe.

‘’ I came here. I will stay here. ‘’ muttered Gulliemont as he eyed the horde of Russians.

‘’ On my order, you will fire at them! ‘’ he ordered. The Russian Cavalry advanced in hordes coming so close Gulliemont thought he would have fainted. The Russian infantry did not have any regimental banners or drummers. They had come in their hundreds. Gulliemont suddenly noticed that they were not walking in formation. They were coming separately, one at a time.

‘’ Right men! These Russians are not coming in any formation! Hold out and brace yourselves for the cavalry lads! This is going to be a real ride! ‘’ He shouted .The Russians got closer and closer. Hurling themselves up, The Russian’s mouths were agape as they shouted their war cries, their officers urging them on with their swords high in the sky.

‘’ Ready Muskets on the first line! ‘’ Gulliemont ordered. The order was repeated among the first line as they grounded their muskets into the heavy snow and began biting the ends of the fresh cartridges before spitting the balls and ramming it down onto the barrel of the musket. The second line had already loaded their guns previously. They waited, waiting to fire onto the enemy.

'' So freezing.... '' Jacque shivered as he bit of his second cartridge spitting the chewed paper into the snow. The salty taste was now replaced with the taste of ash. He preferred salty than ash.

'' Silence in the ranks! The 108th does not talk of cowardice! But by god we shall go out there and kill them all! '' Gulliemont bellowed.

When the foremost of the Russian infantry came at about thirty paces. Gulliemont bellowed.

'' Colonel! ''

'' Yes sir, '' Jacque pulled out from the square as he dodged Russian bullets zooming straight through him.

Gulliemont lowered down and then looked at the Colonel in his eyes.

'' This is a grenade I found when we saw the regiment of Grenadiers slaughtered. '' Gulliemont said as he produced the grenade from his own pocket.

'' What's your plan, General? ''

'' Do you love France? Colonel. ''

'' I do.''

'' Then listen. '' Gulliemont whispered the plan in his ears.

Jacque nodded.

'' Men of the 108th! '' Jacque ordered as he went back onto the square. '' I will throw the grenade at the Russians in the middle. You will not give fire now. Load your guns and then duck. Like our Polish comrades do. When the grenade has been launched , then fire! Show them the might of the Grandee Armee! Is that understood? ''

A great defying roar came from the 108th regiment. The looks on the Russians were of outraged faces. They raised their muskets and shouted back. The answer was a firing volley for them.

The Colonel grinned. '' Yup ''

When the foremost of the Russian infantry came at about thirty paces. Jacque leapt up from the square.

'' Now men! '' He threw the grenade right in front of the advancing Russians. A loud explosion could be heard. Smokes of colours erupted, fire and orange. Jacque eyed the damage. A good hit, he noted to himself. Most of the Russian infantry had been hated. A Russian Officer appeared out of the smoke, shouting curses in French, then encouraging his men to charge.

'' General Gulliemont! '' He shouted.

'' Thank you, Colonel! '' Gulliemont said as he advanced to where around ten paces , the Russians were very close.

‘’ Fire! '' He bellowed.

A loud thunderous volley was released from the Frenchmen’s muskets. It shattered the oncoming Russians, throwing them into a cloud of smoke, of which neither could they see. But the French had more accuracy as indiviual soldiers and kept on firing. Cries and groans of pain and dying came from the Russian ranks in reply.

‘’ Second Line, ready! On my order, first line to the back! ‘’ Gulliemont ordered again. The First line went into where the second line had previously been adjusted. The Second lines of Infantry were now standing up readying for the oncoming impact that was about to engulf them.

[Bardem]

"Wearing furry coats and deep thermal clothing to keep them warm had done nothing to protect them against the extreme blizzards that flew into them as little fairies that couldn't be seen upon horses of snow firing arrows at the Frenchmen."

Mantel it ain't.