A place called hell (a tale)

[Siegfried]

Dear all,

Here is the story written by my self about a French dragoon company during the Peninsular War in Spain.

Cheers,

Christiaan


A place called hell

I

Lieutenant Gille was the first to spot the small village. From behind a low, barren hill rose a black column of smoke to the sky, marking the location of the village. ‘It seems it’s there, over that hill’ he said with a hoarse voice. The burning Spanish sun and the want of water had dried out his throat. ‘Disperse en bataille in front of the hill I would say’ he continued. Corporal Cardon nodded assenting and took a swig from his canteen. Gille ordered Haubert and Coignet to scout the situation on the other side of the hill. Both speeded up and soon rode at a trot to the top of the barren hill, the manes of their helmets wavering in the calm air. The troop followed them slowly, and stopped at the foot of the hill. Haubert and Coignet went over the top and disappeared. Cardon nervously hold his hand at the gilt of his sabre. Gille heard the sounds of sabres that were drew and pistols that were unlocked behind him. He wondered how many times they had faced battle, and how tense everyone always was in such times. The troop now stood en bataille at the foot of the hill. Suddenly Haubert appeared at top, waving wild with his sabre. Gille thought of an ambush, drew his own sabre, shouted a terrifying chaaaaarge! and rode at full speed towards the top, followed by his troop. Cardon expected, as did Gille, to find a village burned down tot the ground with the massacred company’s second troop.
Cardon, the first to reach the top, saw that the village below him indeed was in flames. To his relief the second section wasn’t massacred, but controlled the remnants of the village. ‘Thank the Lord for this blessing’ Gille said, now on the top of the hill too, as was the rest of his section. Relieved they rode towards the village, leaded by Haubert and Coignet.
On the plaza in front of church the troop dismounted. Mayer, the trumpeter of the second section came towards them. ‘Mayer!’ Gille shouted, ‘Where is sous-lieutenant Bussy?’ Mayer, now had reached Gille, and placed his hand on Gill’s shoulder. After a few moments of silence he spoke: ‘Lieutenant, they killed him in battle.’ Mayer continued, but Gille didn’t hear anymore. He plopped down to the ground, and sat with his head in his hands. He always was able to cope with his feelings in such circumstances, but now the burden of emotions became too heavy to bear. Blind anger and grief captured him. After a while he looked up again. Mayer was still there. ‘Mayer, where is he now?’ ‘All casualties have been laid down in the church Lieutenant’ Mayer said in his businesslike manner. After taking a deep breath Gille stood up, and walked slowly towards the church. All around him he saw the traces of battle: a dead horse, burned down houses, some lost pieces of equipment, and a group of about six captured Spanish guerrilla’s, guarded by some dragoons of the second troop. The dragoons saluted as he passed by, but Gille didn’t notice them, absorbed in a pool of thoughts and anger he was.
Cardon dropped by and joined Mayer, who was walking behind Gille at a reverential distance. ‘Mayer, what happened here?’ Cardon asked. ‘Well’, Mayer commenced, ‘we dismounted on the hilltop, seeing the village was deserted. Busy didn’t trust this absence of life, and ordered us to move en tirailleur towards the village. We entered the village and everything went well till we reached the church. There these damnable people had laid their ambuscade. Bussy walked at the front, as always. The guerrillas opened fire, and Bussy was hit in the stomach. Carrouf was hit and killed instantly. In the subsequent fire fight Milles and Depoire were killed, and about five were wounded. But we were able to overwhelm the guerrillas , and what rests of them stands over there’. He nodded in the direction of the anxious looking prisoners. Cardon had one question left: ´Bussy?’ Mayer stopped, took a swig form his canteen, and answered: ‘He died about a quarter ago, May God have pity on his soul.’ ‘was there a priest?’ ‘Yes, there was, but he refused to grant Bussy absolution, whereupon Morvan shot him dead.’

Meanwhile Gill had reached the church and entered it, followed by Mayer and Cardon at some distance.
In the cool church Gille felt an inner peace descending on him. Walking between the old wooden pews he counted them. In one of the pews Corporal Biancourt was seated, with beside him laying the badly wounded Brun. In the alcoves sat and laid the rest of the wounded. In front of the alter laid several corpses, both French and Spanish ones. Gille felt that he was afraid to see the dead. ‘Biancourt, inform me quick on what happened’ Gille asked. Biancourt gave him a short account of what happened. ‘Biancourt, from now on you are in charge of the second troop. Stay with the wounded, and think of something to transport them. We can’t stay forever in this damned place.’
Gille now moved forward tot the altar. He counted the dead. Four French, three guerrilla’s, one priest, two civilians and five corpses which could be either be civilians or guerrilla’s.
Stepping over a corps, crossed himself in front of the alter, came to Bussy and kneeled. His eyes wide open, in his stomach a huge wound coloured in black and red. Gille took Bussy’s hands, placed them on his breast and joined the cold bloodstained hands. He again crossed himself and stood up. While rising he noticed a small girl in the nearest alcove, sitting, her black hair pasted to her tear stained face. He looked into her eyes with an empty feeling for a few moments, turned around, stepping on a dead body and walked out of the church.

To be continued

Copyright Christiaan Harinck, 2008

No part of this text may be reproduced, copied, shared or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior permission from the Author.

[Siegfried]

btw, any form of critic is appreciated, being technically or ecstatically. (don't hestiate to report flaws in the use of the english)

Cheers,

Christiaan

[Adam]

If I get a moment I can copy the text and make a few corrections ( english only) in red in word and e-mail you it back if you like?

Sounds quite good so far, I believe the opening of bussy's encounter will look just like the start of my diorama! To believ my poor priest gest shot dead! I never knew that when I started painting him! The kneeling figure who's horse has been shot, and who is about to get shot himself on my last WIP update is a lieutenant!

[rpardo]

A good tale!

[Siegfried]

If I get a moment I can copy the text and make a few corrections ( english only) in red in word and e-mail you it back if you like?

That would be very kind!

Cheers,

Christiaan

[Paul]

Where´s part two ??? It looks quite good so far. I was just getting into it.
A french sharpe (or Pointu )

[Peter]

Great story so far Christiaan (good to use this name again )

Did you write it directly in English, or was it first written in Dutch?

That "to be continued" isn't during to long I hope?

[Mark]

It was probably originally written in dutch. Then rewritten in english

[Paul]

It was probably originally written in dutch. Then rewritten in english

Originally written in swahili, then french, the dialect they use in cameroon, then french, dutch and finally english.

[musketier]

It was probably originally written in dutch. Then rewritten in english

Originally written in swahili, then french, the dialect they use in cameroon, then french, dutch and finally english.

I thought midway through I detected a little esperanto

[Paul]

It was probably originally written in dutch. Then rewritten in english

Originally written in swahili, then french, the dialect they use in cameroon, then french, dutch and finally english.

I thought midway through I detected a little esperanto

Yeh but he was very small and was a mute, so had no influence on the retelling of this tale.

[musketier]

It was probably originally written in dutch. Then rewritten in english

Originally written in swahili, then french, the dialect they use in cameroon, then french, dutch and finally english.

I thought midway through I detected a little esperanto

Yeh but he was very small and was a mute, so had no influence on the retelling of this tale.

Ah I see perhaps I read to deeply hehe