Personal Account 6

From the 4th Shock Army

The smoke drifted across in wisps and mists as Alexandre wandered across the battlefield. His soldiers picked through the belongings of the dead, pocketing ring, coins, and other valuables. The sound of fifes and hoofbeats behind him made the General turn. Two columns were approaching: the Karmebourg carabiniers, their horses huge and imposing, and the 55th Foot, it's furled colors at the regiment's head. From across the body strewn fields to the right Kerrigan's Sharpshooters advanced in skirmish order, their greencoats making look rather like walking trees.

"The Akaeians are in the midst of hard fighting." His aide had appeared, leading his sweat-lathered horse. "They seem to be doing a good job though. We haven't done so bad either. I'm hearing 600 of our casaulties, mostly from the 9th Foot, and at leat 850 of theirs."

Alexandre said nothing for a moment. "Then it looks like the outflanking is up to us. Colonel Croix!"

The commander of the 55th Foot rode up to where the general stood and saluted. "Your orders sir?"

"Continue on to the camp of the 9th Foot's 1st Battalion. Send any wounded to the rear, and then set up a defense here." He poked a spot on the map held before the two officers. "At this place called Beldorford. I'll send that battery of 12-pdrs over there with you, and I'll promise reinforcements when I can find some."

"Very good sir."

He went through the same thing with the commander of the Carabiniers and the Sharpshooters. More columns moved past as he had ordered the night before, and now he ordered them to press on against the enemy. The flag of Sicinia would move forward once more.

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