|
Post by Bog on Oct 23, 2011 7:06:20 GMT -5
The cloud of powder smoke was blessedly quick to dissipate, owing to the teasing breeze that ruffled across the field. Gibbons shouldered his musket and cried, "Grenadiers! Twenty paces forward, march!"
The first rank could reload once they came to a halt again. Or, if circumstances were against that, the second rank could give a volley and the first rank could charge with their bayonets. Either way they were going to kill these bastards who were now drawn up into line. Awaiting their fates, no doubt.
A command to fire was barked out from the rebel line and the resulting volley crackled forth. The grenadiers were not yet so close to be in grave danger, though one ball did find its mark in Tom Hewes' leg. He went down with an angry curse and the man behind him, John Chester, stepped over him without a second glance.
"Close up!" Gibbons snapped, unnecessarily. A couple of those balls had whistled past annoyingly close. Eighteen... nineteen... "Halt!"
Now that they were closer, he could see the enemy line was made up of roughly dressed militia. Was that all? He was insulted. "First rank," the big grenadier snarled. "Prime an' load. Second rank. Make, ready! Pre-sent! Fire!!"
|
|
|
Post by faithfulguardian on Oct 23, 2011 11:56:37 GMT -5
Danny was surprised at the young man that had come bounding out of the smoke to reach her, but she followed him back to his lines anyway. they reached the hedge row just as the Grenadiers ahead fired a volley at the militia. there were a couple more redcoats behind the hedge so she knelt beside the boy who had leapt in alongside another man. already she was pulling her powder horn around and reloading the rifle that had been discharged on top of the ridge. she could already sense looks being cast her way as the light company fought around her, she ignored them. she was already aware how out of place she looked in the buckskin and leggings, but it helped camouflage. and living was always more important to Danny than judgment. she quickly got into the routine the other two had set in motion - reload, fire, kneel, reload, fire, kneel, reload. but what they were firing at she could not see anymore. the smoke cleared fast enough, but the trees and bushes between them and the Americans covered the enemy well. "I cannae see a bloody thing!" she shouted over the firing "Ah'm thinking we should get closer, Lads."
|
|
|
Post by Chørd on Oct 23, 2011 13:22:38 GMT -5
`JamesJames nodded to Bee when the younger private fired, managing to shoot someone in the leg. He brought his own musket into his shoulder, aimed, and fired, before beginning the reloading process again.
"You what?" He asked, looking up as she spoke to him, and stared in the direction she was pointing in. Sure enough, there was a young private - probably younger than both he and Bee - stuck without a partner...and not dressed in proper uniform either. "He's fine," he dismissed the idea, then opened his mouth to shout a protest as the other private patted his shoulder then made a run for it. "For Christ's bloody sake! Where are you going?" He yelled after him, glancing around at the other men to check he wasn't falling behind in position. "Come back! D'you wanna get yourself killed?" His shouting was drowned out as another volley was fired - though whether it was from the grenadiers or the Yankees he couldn't tell. He watched the gunpowder smoke for any sign of Bee, poised with the half-empty cartridge still in his hand above the up-turned musket. He frowned to himself before finishing reloading, glancing up and around every so often. Suddenly, two figures came sprinting back to the hedgerow and towards him. James prepared his best infuriated glare for Bee as they approached, though he felt more relieved that they'd made it back in one piece than anything. "You idiot," he snapped, returned his ramrod to its brass tube, then aimed and fired his musket again. After the charge had gone off in the pan and the lead ball buried itself somewhere in the rebel ranks, he turned back to Bee again. "Try not to get yourself killed, eh?"
He nodded briefly in acknowledgement at the other private who'd just been 'rescued', though they looked like the knew what they were doing, despite claiming not being able to see anything. He bristled slightly at the suggestion, but nodded in agreement anyway, moving forwards along the hedgerow until the figures of the Americans were just visible through the smoke. "One of us reload, the other fire, and the other cover the two firing and reloading," he explained to other two. He'd decided he was in charge out of the three, since it looked like he was the oldest, and in his mind that automatically put him in charge. If they wanted to argue, that was fine, but he'd be busy doing what he said they should be doing.
[/size]
|
|
|
Post by rebellioustory on Oct 24, 2011 14:11:11 GMT -5
Hey! My plan worked and none of us are dead! I can do something constructive here! her grin faded when James scolded her and her shoulders slumped a little, but the adrenaline was still coursing through her veins. She wanted to fight now more than ever and wanted nothing more than to do up close in ranks like the people of her old regiment. Hmm, she now understood why soldiering was exciting and why people did stupidly heroic things. She hurriedly began priming and reloading getting powder all over herself in the process knowing she wasn't going to play the spastic coward anymore, or at least try not to. She couldn't help but chuckle a little imaging her husband's possible reaction to his small wife running around with a gun almost as tall as her running and dodging gunfire pulling someone out of harm's way...Said imagined reaction was very similiar to James' only there would have been at least one hug involved. All she could reply with James' suggestion of not trying to get killed with a quick nod and a stifled smile.
She ducked under the hedge with the others then poked her head up to see a grenadier volley, "Wow, look at that!" she said ducking below, "That was a great volley from those guys, wasn't it? That should drive those rebels away, right?" wrong... They were still there, "Hmm, guess not..." She winced as one of the men fell with a that looks painful..." she said biting her lip. She knew she got a rebel in the leg, she saw him, but she still was a tad nervous that was her cause and said anxiety began to form a knot in her stomach. She shook her head and listened to James' directions glad someone other than her was given, aye aye, captain!" she said saluting him trying not to think about anything other than getting the enemy out, We're all loaded, right? she asked looking at the both of them then hesitated when the other kid suggested they move forward. What was wrong with just being here and firing? Well, the majority ruled here so she simply followed ducking under the hedgerow between the other and James, "So who shall fire first?" she asked poking her head up from the hedgerow only to get her hat shot off her head. She ducked back under the hedge eyes wide in fear scrambling to get her foraging cap back on, "I-I-uh I guess I should be grateful that shot wasn't any lower." she said Did we HAVE to get any closer? She adjusted her spectacles then turned to the two of them, James, you should fire first followed by me, than you," she motioned to Danny, "shall fire last." she accepted James being their leader, but that didn't mean she couldn't give suggestions.
|
|
|
Post by Bog on Oct 25, 2011 12:01:03 GMT -5
"Ten paces forward," Gibbons bawled. "March!"
Their most recent volley having been discharged, the plucky little detachment of grenadiers advanced again, their muskets again shouldered and their fixed bayonets glinting in the sun. If there had been more of them, it would have only been that much more impressive. As it was, Gibbons reckoned the sight of him and his lads striding deliberately forward as if they hadn't any fear.
At the end of the ten paces, Gibbons again halted his men. Now they were in the lion's den. But he and his lads were like Daniel. They would emerge victorious.
"Front rank! Make, ready!" He brought his own musket to the Poise, the side of his thumb resting against the doghead screw. "Present! Fire!"
The last command was drowned out by the clash of musketry from the rebels, which the grenadiers returned almost in the same heartbeat. In the choking cloud of powder smoke, it was difficult to see. Not that Gibbons needed to.
"Second rank! Fix. Bayonets!"
|
|
|
Post by faithfulguardian on Oct 25, 2011 15:40:39 GMT -5
Danny ducked as the bullets whizzed by her head, she could tell the two redcoats that had taken her suggestion were unhappy about moving forward. the younger one that had pulled her from the safer position on the ridge looked scared out of his mind when his cap had been shot off, and the other one, possibly a child of the army for his whole life, looked angry at the fact that Danny had taken a small bit of charge, male pride and all that. she decided to let it slide when he took charge and leave the fact that he was only a private and she a cadet until after the battle. after all, who was there to tell when she was not in a proper uniform. Her native ally and friend, Tey, would have said something, he was always about order and found himself very proud when he could tell her the different ranks of the army. she had left him at the camp today, and somewhat sorry for the decision now, she wish he was there to fight.
Danny got back into the swing of firing, though she noticed it took her about as long to load the rifle as it did the angry private, who only had a musket. the boy with the spectacles was quick, probably quicker than Danny was with her own musket, but the lad was also scared and a rough shot when aiming. "Breath in before you fire, Lad, keep the gun tight against your shoulder and exhale as yae fire. it'll help with the aim." she called to the boy before following her own process and firing over the dirt mound they hid behind. her bullet whizzed through the trees and she watched a man go down with a graze to the side of his ribs. he would live, but there would probably be a scar to tell his grandchildren about. the other man took his shot, she noticed as she reloaded that he was better, more experienced then the other lad. he needed no help in how to aim. when she looked up through the trees during a spare second, she guessed the skirmish had been going on for at least a half of an hour. the colonists were not known to fight very long, being more the hit and run types, a tactic she preferred herself. she wondered if they would run before her bullets were gone.
|
|
|
Post by Chørd on Oct 25, 2011 16:27:30 GMT -5
`JamesThe chattering was beginning to get on his nerves. Sure, they were probably slightly anxious - they looked younger than him, and probably less experienced too, so they had every right to be just a little scared for their lives. But why talk when they could be firing! "Shut up!" He snapped at the pair, before finishing reloading his musket yet again. He nodded at Bee's proposed firing order though, and couldn't help but smile slightly as the newly arrived lad gave the other some advice. "A'ight," he sighed, lifted his musket into his shoulder and fired again, his powder-stained lips parting into a grin when he saw one of the rebels fall from a hit in the side. He knelt to reload, deciding it'd be easier for the other two if he did so, keeping a constant eye on the grenadier line. They'd have to keep in line with them to prevent them from having to fire across them. The last thing he wanted was to have the aim on the musket go off even more than usual and end up accidentally shooting a grenadier from behind because he hadn't kept up. "Move forwards again," he ordered the pair. "They're getting ahead." Surely they'd be close enough soon to affect a charge and finish off the rebels?
When he heard the barely audible shout of the grenadier corporal for his second rank to fix bayonets, James hesitated. "When they charge, we go to," he explained, looking to his two skirmishing partners for confirmation. "Y'alright wi' that?" He didn't have his hatchet on him, so he'd have to make do with his musket and bayonet to clobber the enemy with if and when they did get to the melee. Still, it was better than nothing.
[/size]
|
|
|
Post by rebellioustory on Oct 26, 2011 12:28:10 GMT -5
Bee began to take pride in her ability to prime and load quickly and it started to show, but the pressure of firing at an enemy began to take its toll. She bit her lip as she cocked the gun again to make ready then the other kid came to her and told her to breathe in as she made ready, which she did. As she exhaled, she squeezed the trigger and sent another shot into the disorganized rabble of Rebels then quickly halfcocked the firelock and ducked back under to clean the pan, frizzen, and flint with her shirtsleeve, "I Thankee." she said with a nervous smile then flinched when James yelled for them to shut up. She bit her lip then looked down continuing to wipe the residue from her firelock. She was terrified and the small chatter made her less afraid, but now was not the time for fear. She followed the other two to another safe spot then nodded when James said to charge with the Grenadiers"Aye, fine with me." she said taking the bayonet out of its sheath examining the shine she had brought to it with its first polishing then fixed it onto her musket, "Gah!" she pinched the top of her palm with the instrument. She swore under her breath licking the blood and gunpowder off her hand and accidentally put her other hand on the metal part of the barrel searing it. How did guys do this? She was sure it was something she could get used to, but she was certain her hands would never quite go back to being as soft as they were when she was a lady. She nursed the other hand propping the wooden part of the barrel on her lap careful not to point the bayonet at anyone, "Sorry." she whispered waiting for the order.
|
|
|
Post by Bog on Oct 26, 2011 14:00:23 GMT -5
Another of his lads was down but Gibbons did not look to see who it was. Instead, he gripped his musket with both hands and levelled it, waist-high, at the enemy. "Grenadiers! Charge. Bayonets! At the quick-step, march!"
It was not an outright charge, but rather a measured movement forward. With their bayonet-tipped muskets levelled similarly to Gibbons', the grenadiers' steady advance was calculated to put the most fear possible into the enemy. Had they charged at the run, they might not have achieved the same result. In Gibbons' experience, making a disciplined approach had a greater effect upon the usually-untrained enemy.
There were, however, drawbacks to such an approach. The rebels were scrambling to reload their muskets and the grenadiers' unhurried advance was giving them time to prepare another volley. He could see that the rebels' hats were adorned with white patches. Some sort of company distinction, he thought dismissively. It didn't matter. They were all going to die the same way.
They were close enough now to make out some finer details of the men in the front rank. More than close enough to do the business.
"At 'em!"
The remaining grenadiers stirred into a run. In moments, they crashed against the enemy's line at speed, the momentum of their charge carrying them almost straight through the first rank and into the second. They stabbed half-blindly with their bayonets, howling challenges and oaths as they went about their lethal work.
Several rebels offered no resistance and chose to flee, while others kept their heads. Somebody barked an order and several muskets fired. At such close distance, it was impossible to miss.
|
|
|
Post by faithfulguardian on Oct 26, 2011 15:23:05 GMT -5
Danny rested the rifle briefly against her leg and reached into the back of her belt, pulling out both her dirk and sghian dubh. she pulled off the two hares that had stayed tied over her left shoulder the whole time and dropped them to the ground as she watched the Grenadiers march forward. she managed to load the pistol one last time before heading forward with the other two. it was tucked into her plaid sash along with the smaller knife, the dirk went between her teeth and the rifle she held. hoping to use the last shot in effect against the Militia. when the Grenadiers charged, she followed, growling around the knife in her mouth, gathering her courage for the mad dash into the melee.
her shot went off into a crowd of men, she did not stop to see if it had found a target, instead she turned the gun around and used it as a club, swinging the butt end at a man who was about to raise his musket at the young lad with the spectacles. "keep your eyes open boy!" she shouted after taking the dirk out of her mouth "dinnae be turning the plan agley!" she was sure there wasn't much of a plan anyway, but she wanted the lad to get through this day.
A man came at the two of them, a hatchet raised high. Danny pushed the rifle's end into his gut and gave a shove before taking the dirk and slashing at his wrist. he dropped the weapon and grabbed at his hand, taking off into the bushes. she turned and risked a smile at the other lad. then turned around, pulling out the pistol, and returned to the battle.
OOC: Agley in scottish means awry, so turning the plan awry.
|
|
|
Post by Chørd on Oct 26, 2011 19:28:24 GMT -5
`JamesAs the grenadier group marched closer to the enemy position, James took out his bayonet from its scabbard and fixed it to the of his musket's muzzle, keeping a close eye on the grenadiers and other light infantrymen to ensure he didn't get left behind. He looked around when Bee swore and noticed the cut on their hand. "Careful there," he grinned then raised an eyebrow at the other young lad who was busy sorting themselves out with weapons. He was pretty sure the blades being pulled out and tucked away, along with the pistol, were not standard issue - or at least, not to his regiment and company. But what did he know? The lad wasn't even dressed in uniform. He wasn't even sure where he'd come from. "That's a fine stash of weapons you got there," he nodded at them. The other boy sounded as if he was Scottish - he certainly used the strange words that the rest of the northerners did. Oh well. Same king, same enemy.
As the grenadiers broke into a full run, so did James. He was a few paces behind them, and could see a few rebels had fled at the sight of the tall soldiers charging at them, but there was still a fair few who stood and fight. He'd all but forgotten his former skirmishing partners in the mad dash, and now held his musket in the prime position to stab the nearest man with. Some of the rebels had succeeded in reloading whilst the grenadiers advanced and, with the order given, fired one lat volley at their enemy. James swore as a musket ball splintered a tree near him after just grazing his arm. He didn't bother to glance down to assess the damage - it didn't hurt and he could still feel and use as his arm; therefore, it couldn't be serious.
He caught the first rebel in the side with his bayonet, giving him a sharp kick in the leg to get him down and out and to help free his bayonet. He was yelling incoherent words at the enemy, completely lost in the fighting. He swung his musket like a club at another, before turning to the next opponent. He stabbed at them with his bayonet, but they fell onto their back, dodging the blade. Noticing it was just a boy, who couldn't be scarcely older than thirteen, James pulled a face, gave the lad a hefty kick in the ribs to knock the wind from him, then moved on. He glanced around the fight and spotted Bee and the Scottish boy were sort-of together. There. The pair could look after each other - not that either really needed looking after, he supposed.
[/size]
|
|
|
Post by Dallas on Oct 27, 2011 16:02:53 GMT -5
-ANDREAS
The small party of eight Brunswickers marched through the American unerbrush steadily. They had been in their regiment at camp a few moments ago when they had heard gunfire echo across the plains. Their prince had sent them out as small company to check up and see what was happening. The highest ranking man in the group was leading them through some trees and in Andreas' opinion he was a stuck up pig. The only reason why he thought that though was because the man was an idiot, he had willingly enrolled into the army and he was a blue blood. This made the man move up ranks surprisingly fast even though he hadn't done much and he was so dull that he had been studying english for a year and couldn't even remember how to ask for some ones name.
Andreas marched next to another man who was mumbling things to some one else. At first he didn't pay attention, but the man turned to him and whispered 'what do you think this is all about?' Andreas looked around at first surprised that the man thought he knew anything about why there were gunshots. "I don't know maybe a regiment of redcoats stumbled upon a few yankees." They were speaking German to each other since he was the only one there who could speak enough english for conversation.
As his regiment got closer to the gunshots they started to die down, but in there place they could hear screaming and shouting. They probably got to the melee fighting. He thought to himself as he tried to look past the trees and see if he could spot any red coats or rebels yet. They finally emerged through a wall of trees though, where it looked like they were at the rebel's right flank. There were redcoats and rebels all scattered everywhere locked in combat. Soon he heard the orders to advance and he did so. They stopped with in firing range and was ordered to open fire. Andreas unslung his musket and shouldered it, it had already been loaded before he left. He steadied himself and tried to focus on aiming. Even though he sympathized with the yanks he had already fought them in battle more then once and he had killed. He sympathized with them, but he knew that he had to follow orders lest they suspect his sympathy and disire to desert.
They fired a volley at them and he had no idea whether he had shot anyone or not, but he didn't give it much thought. Then they fixed their bayonets and advanced again. They charged into the battle and began clubbing and stabbing the rebels. It was a strange since they had blue coats and so did the Brunswickers, but it was obvious to tell who was who since the rebels weren't very organized and not all were in uniform. Plus there were enough difference between their uniforms to tell.
Andreas was near the center of the fighting now and he merely kept flogging any rebel who came in reaching distance over the head. From what he could tell there appeared to be two redcoat regiments amidst the chaos. He noticed two younger looking boys and one that could be the same age as him or younger possibly, he didn't care. One had specticles, the other had no uniform, but he assumed he was British, and the last one had a uniform on and appeared to be lost in the fighting. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a rebel charging toward the one in the uniform that was busy fighting a different rebel. Andreas leaped forward and with a few strides he reached the one who had previously been focused on fighting. He grabbed the back of his cross whites and jerked him back before the rebel could reach him then swung the butt of his musket at the rebel's jaw.
|
|
|
Post by rebellioustory on Oct 27, 2011 20:18:59 GMT -5
"Oh, Lord... She saw James and the other running towards the enemy in addition to the Grenadiers charging the rebels with bayonets What am I doing here? I'm no soldier! she looked down at her bloodied and powder stained hands and the gun in them, slightly smiled, then made two marks under her eyes with the mixture as she recalled the men who ridiculed her on her way outI do not have much of a choice here, might as well make the best of it. She jumped over the hedgerow with musket in hand howling like a banshee following a few steps behind the other two into the fray bayonetting someone in the chest before kicking the poor sod off her gun and butting some other man in the head with the butt of her musket. She recalled those rebels who had thrown her out and laughed at her making comments about her as they threw her out which fueled her rage yet it was short lived when one rebel poised his gun at her and her reaction was to stop like a startled deer yet the other lad clubbed him first"thankee again!" she said before turning around to kick another exceptionally tall rebel in the shins as he raised his musket to club her then gave another swift kick to bring him down and stuck him with her bayonet. She was excited, no, thrilled, of this idea of either killing or being killed. It was so primievel and simple, so exciting. She kicked the man off her gun before running further into the fray following the other kid and James before she realized WHAT she was doing: murdering. She stopped and looked around at the murder and bloodshed around her and began to feel nauseous. This was more than merely a war of regulars against militia, this was a war of brother versus brother. She looked down at her bloodied hands and uniform then screamed as another came at her yet she was quicker and stabbed him with her bayonet looking into his eyes as the life left them, "Dear Lord..." this was what it was like to kill, but she didn't have time to stop to grieve, she had no choice.
Her stomach was knotting itself up as she continued running in the chaos when she finally saw the Hessians- real Hessians! Sure, she had seen real Jaegers, but she had never seen the really tall heavy infantry Hessians and they were just as scary as she imagined. thank goodness they were fighting on her side! They would be a terrifying enemy! Oh wow! One of them's coming closer! I wonder why- OH DEAR GOD! She ducked shutting her eyes expecting the end as the rebel swung his musket at her only to be saved by said Hessian, Thankee, mister!" she said trying not to tremble.
|
|
|
Post by Bog on Oct 27, 2011 20:42:17 GMT -5
A fresh roar of musketry broke out from behind them and somebody cried out as they fell. Gibbons himself was wounded, having taken a ball when those scattered rebel muskets had fired. He felt the weight of a body fall against him and shoved it away, only to realise as he turned to face the perceived threat that it was one of his own lads. It was young John Chester.
He did not know from which volley the ball that hit Chester had come from, but there were more pressing concerns to address at that moment. Namely, the fact that they were being flanked.
"Face a - " he began, managing to grab hold of Chester's coat in time to stop the boy falling. His gaze had shifted to this new enemy, but once he focussed on those neat ranks of blue, he recognised the uniforms as being Hessian. Those slackbrained bastards.
"Mind yer bloody fire!" The grenadier bellowed, anger giving his voice volume. It wasn't bad enough they were ready targets for the enemy without being fired on by their allies as well!
Not that there was any danger of the Hessians attempting a second display of foolishness. They too were charging now, no doubt seeking to get their own licks in before the remaining rebels turned tail.
Gibbons hefted the wounded Chester across one shoulder and carried the boy clear. Being trampled to death was no way for anyone to go. He had only just let the young grenadier down when drums suddenly began to rattle from somewhere behind where the rebels had made their line. Drums from that direction meant trouble for the British.
"Grenadiers!" Gibbons bawled, aware that he was now only addressing, at most, three men. He set his feet and charged his bayonet, standing just a foot forward of the sprawled, wounded Chester. "Reform! Quickly lads! Reform to line!"
|
|
|
Post by faithfulguardian on Oct 27, 2011 22:01:04 GMT -5
Danny watched as the boy with the spectacles charged into the battle, she had seen that look before, it had taken over her long ago at Breed's Hill, the feeling of power and control. it was dangerous and she would never forget the consequences. the lad was brave, she would give him that, brave, but foolish. she watched when the Hessians entered the scene, the foolish fire they sent into the melee and decided the battle had become too much chaos for her safety. she strung her rifle over her shoulder and leapt forward and went to the lad who looked a bit sick to his stomach. "yae did well lad, best leave the rest tae the big men, aye?" she started to pull him back when a militia man heading back to his lines passed them by, swiping his bayonet across her upper arm. she grimaced at the cut sleeve and cursed and the blood already beginning to flow, she grabbed at the boy with her other arm and backed up to where what was left of the Grenadiers were reforming. it wasn't until she stopped at a tree by their lines that she heard the drums. and she knew it was not their own. she spun around and began reloading the rifle with shaking hands, only one thing had that sort of drum beat. Cavalry.
|
|
|
Post by Chørd on Oct 28, 2011 6:27:22 GMT -5
`JamesJames's attention was grabbed momentarily as another volley was fired into the melee from the flank, half the shots missing. The shots that did make a hit took out both British and Yankee alike. The uniforms of the men responsible for the fire were blue, and from a distance could have been Continental reinforcements. As they charged and got closer, it was clear they weren't Continentals - or at least, not any unit James recognised. He gave a rebel a sharp kick and a stab with his bayonet, and thrusted the butt of his musket into another's stomach, making him double over. He slammed his musket down on the back of the man's head, then quickly moved to where there was a cluster of light infantrymen fighting. The newly arrived blue-coated men made a charge for the melee as well, attacking the rebels. "Hessians?" James pulled a face. If they'd heard the commotion from their camp and sent a patrol out, then surely a nearby rebel encampment would hear it too and send out their back up. "Aye," a man near him nodded, then laughed. "They rebels are bloody done for now."
James swung his musket at another yank, only to have the other man's bayonet catch him in his arm and tear a gash in his sleeve. He felt a sharp pain as the blade cut into his skin as well, before giving the rebel a hefty shove and sticking his own bayonet through his throat. "Twice in the same bloody arm!" He hissed, yanking his bayonet free from the body. He looked around when he heard drums and the grenadiers being ordered to reform, the few men that were left obeying the command. Seeing Bee and the Scottish lad heading back to where the grenadiers were forming, James also followed, having to dodge the melee's dead and dying. As he lined up alongside the pair of boys he'd been with earlier, he could tell the drums were not British. He didn't care that he was meant to be with his own men - the order had been addressed to the grenadiers only - but since Corporal Kemp wasn't to be seen, he planned on following the next person in charge's orders, whether or not they were from his own company. "Got caught by a bayonet?" James asked the un-uniformed lad beside him, motioning to the cut in his sleeve and the blood stain around it. It probably wasn't the best of times to pick for smalltalk, but oh well. "I didn't quite catch yer name back there, lad."
[/size]
|
|
|
Post by Dallas on Oct 28, 2011 12:54:22 GMT -5
-ANDREAS The boy he had pulled aside seemed to be very surprised at the suddeness of what had just happened. He said something that sounded like he was thanking Andreas and he nodded back. He was about to say something, but caught himself remembering that the boy didn't speak German. The heat of the battle was making his mind scatter and he couldn't think of the english word at that moment so instead he patted the boy on the shoulder slightly and turned around to avoid any further conversation only to see a rebel coming towards him.
He plunged his bayonet into the man's gut and kicked the man away. Andreas toke a deep breathe and tried his best not to loose his focus. He was a sold man, hired to kill and if he didn't perfom his task he had no doubt that he would be killed by the officer of his regiment. He glanced around again and realized that he couldn't see the officer or any of the other men that had come with him any where. Though, there was probably to much chaos for him to be able to see them.
Andreas hissed at the feel of a blade ripping through his flesh and looked around to see who had stabbed him. He clubbed the man over the head as quickly as possible then looked at the wound on his left arm. It wasn't to bad, just a graze, so he surpressed the pain and refocused on the fighting.
Clubbing another rebel in the jaw he stopped suddenly when he heard drum beats coming from some where past the trees. He had heard drum beats like it in battle before, but he hadn't ever seen or been told what they meant. Obviously it meant something bad since he saw what looked like a Grenedier regiment begin to fall back and reform their line. Andreas began to step back as well, but not before he made one more scan for his regiment. Still no where in sight, He thought irratibly and began to draw back with the other red coats. No doubt his regiment was going to draw back as well and form a line also. They were well trained, their commander at the moment was just an imbecile.
Andreas pulled back to a tree and tried not to look back at the battle field. The sight of fallen men was still just as daunting as the day he had first fought the Colonists. He could hear men running towards the line of Grenediers, like he had, and he could hear men on the other side of the battle field barking orders. He glanced around at the men around him and saw that he was near the boy he had saved and the one with out a uniform. Another man was talking, and Andreas only caught a few of the words, but he wasn't paying close attention anyway.
|
|
|
Post by rebellioustory on Oct 29, 2011 16:15:42 GMT -5
She smiled after receiving the pat on the shoulder then hopped over tree roots and bodies getting out of the way of the heavier infantry then tripped over someone scraping her knee in the process yet she didn't have time to react to that for some Rebel loomed over her. She somersaulted under then took off running to find her group then found Danny, "Thankee!" she said as the other lad pulled her back, "I guess I was a bit brave..." personally, she thought she fought poorly since more than once she had to be pulled out of harm's way. She looked around as the two made it back to safety when some militiaman scraped the boy with his bayonet in addition to clipping her upper arm as well. Pain shot up her arm and she bit her lip and swore running a bit faster to avoid any further injury. Once there, she saw the Grenadier corporal carry another wounded soldier on safer ground near them and ran over to pull the young man further to safety, Here," she said giving him her canteen, Ya need it more than I do." she said taking the bearskin off and placing it beside him patting his shoulder before returning to the other two Lights.
It was at this point when she noticed James was cut in the arm, too, "I got cut in the arm, too..." she said showing the bloodstain on her ripped coat trying not to make it feel like a badge of honour. She looked at her arm, then at James', then at the other boy's, smeared her thumb in her wound, then brought it up indicating the others should do the same, "Dread Brotherhood of the Light Infantry?" she asked hoping this would work with them, "The Dread Brotherhood of James, Bee, aaaaaaand..." she then realized she didn't know the other boy's name, "I am sorry, but I do not believe I caught your name..." how silly was this? It was as though they were all children playing soldier in the garden imagining all the carnage around them and slaying imaginary rebels but it was far from imaginary. She then imagined how proud her husband would have been of her bravery shown in this skirmish and her head began to inflate... Maybe she was braver than she thought she was. This was, after all, her first battle experience, she didn't have to be completely perfect and brave like the two veterans beside her.
The rebel drums popped her imaginings and she looked around like a startled animal, Wait! What's going on?!" no time to think, she began to reload thankful that tumble she took didn't lose any cartridges, "That does not sound good!" she said looking around again trying to find where the sound was coming from, "What if we are outnumbered?!" her voice was beginning to get squeaky as she put the frizzen cover on and clutching the gun tightly yet the blood on her hands made everything sticky.
|
|
|
Post by Bog on Oct 31, 2011 8:35:51 GMT -5
His three remaining grenadiers had pulled back to stand alongside him, forming a pitiful answer to a line. Of the seven of them who'd left camp, there were only four left standing. But they'd given a damn good accounting of themselves and Corporal Gibbons could find no fault in that.
"Clear off, boy!" He snarled at the undersized private who was fussing needlessly over the red-faced Chester. There was too much else going on for any of them to get distracted tending wounded. The Light Bob dashed off and Gibbons thought no more about him. Stupid beggar.
"Grenadiers!" The corporal barked. "Prime an' load!"
~
"Keep steady," Lieutenant Hill snapped, glancing sharply along the leading rank. The men glanced quickly at each other and adjusted their dressing, which caused them to slow their step. The line accordingly faltered, until a second bark from Lieutenant Hill got them mostly back in order again. They were not, Benjamin Strout knew, a very good-looking regiment, but he'd been with the 2nd Massachusetts since Breed's Hill. This was a regiment that could fight.
"There they is, boys," somebody called.
The enemy was ahead of them, drawing back to form into line. By comparison, the British looked smart and sharp in their drill. It was almost enough to spark envy in a man. Instead, Strout felt a familiar cold thrill of fear. He hated the icy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he got every time he saw the enemy manoeuvring with such precision, as it usually meant the Continentals were about to receive musketry.
"Regiment. Halt!" Captain Bennett trotted his horse along the leading rank, holding his drawn sword over his head. The retreating militia passing through the regiment's line did not seem to trouble him. "Load your muskets!"
|
|
|
Post by faithfulguardian on Oct 31, 2011 13:12:56 GMT -5
"aye" Danny nodded at the cut on her arm when the quiet private pointed out her cut, she pulled a kerchief from a pouch at her side, it had an embroidered thistle and some smaller flowers on it, but she wrapped it around the torn sleeve anyway. she looked up when both of the redcoats asked her her name at the same time, she looked at the one who had asked first. "yae cannae catch a name that was never said in the first place." she joked, then smirked Yae can call me Danny for now. Danny McPherson." she looked to the spectacled lad who had called himself Bee, mild amusement playing on her face. she wiped her thumb on a drop of blood that had run down her elbow and onto her hand then held it up. best to keep the boy calm rather than have him panic.
which happened anyway. A moment after the pact was made the boy named Bee heard the drums. Quiet! It's a cavalry, up on the ridge there. we have to stick together or they'll pick us off one by one. " she tried to answer all the boy's questions as quickly as possible while trying to think at the same time.
what would Tey do? she asked herself, thinking of her native friend. she turned to look at the tree they stood beside. "get into a tree!" she pointed, when they both gave her queer looks she rolled her eyes "Yae are supposed tae be a light company, aye? be light! if yae cannae get in a tree hide behind one, a hidden target cannae be hit sae easily." She had been easy going at the start of this battle, but now instinct and training were kicking in. "remember, an unhorsed cavalry man is a better matched than a mounted one. get him off the horse!"She turned and scooted up the limbs of the tree, her rifle over her shoulder, until she was about 15 to 20 feet off the ground, then she got set to load the gun, not looking down to see if the others had followed her example.
|
|