Napoleonic Wargame Club (NWC)

The scribe was bored. The Rhine Tavern was sparsely populated and his usual associate, Colonel Schmidgall, had been away on other business for these last few days. Looking around the room, he spotted an Anglo-Allied Staff Officer sitting at a table alone, apparently deep in thought. Ah, thought the scribe, I’ll bet the pensive Hanoverian has some story to tell.

The scribe gave Josephine a gentle pat on the head, as he rose from his seat by the fire and walked over, pen and notebook in hand, to the table where the Hanoverian officer was seated. “You look as if you are contemplating the most weighty of matters, sir”, said the scribe. “Would you mind a bit of company?”

Slightly startled, the Hanoverian Brigadier raised his steady, blue eyes to meet those of his newest companion. “By all means, sir, please join me. I would welcome the company of an intellectual gentleman such as you.”

The scribe smiled as he took a seat across the table from the Anglo-Allied Guardsman. “So what is it that so occupies your mind this night, General”, grinned the scribe as he motioned to Helga to tend them. “A Jager for your thoughts.”

“Ah, good sir, you do know the way to this old soldier’s heart”, the Hanoverian said with a smile. “If it is a story you want, then a story you shall have. Did I ever tell you of the time when I was shot by an Anglo-Allied firing squad?”

The scribe raised an eyebrow at such a provocative comment, opened his notebook and dipping his pen in his inkwell replied, “Do tell, General. I would love to hear such an interesting tale.”

“Well, I was a Major at the time, sir”, said the Hanoverian Guardsman, “and had only been recently promoted by Generaal Bijl to be the Staff Officer for the entire Anglo-Allied Army. There were so many things to learn. I must admit that I was a bit overwhelmed in the beginning. All in all, things were going fairly well, right up until the point that I misplaced the Army’s supply of booze…”

“Oh, Generaal Bijl was highly upset when he discovered what I had done”, continued the Hanoverian Officer. “I don’t believe I have ever seen a man turn that many shades of red. Honestly, I don’t think I even knew there were that many shades of red to begin with! I am reasonably certain that the color spectrum was redefined that day.”

“So next thing I know, I am standing with a stone wall to my back facing twelve red coated soldiers. To my utter astonishment, I recognized one of those soldiers to be General Bijl himself! Now I don’t claim to be a consummate expert on military protocol, but I am pretty sure that the Army Commander is supposed to watch the proceedings from a safe distance. In any case, the officer in charge of the detail starts walking down the line, handing every soldier a musket. I do know that tradition says that one of them is not really loaded, but the remaining eleven decidedly are. Not a very comforting thought, I must say.”

“Well the officer gets to Generaal Bijl, holds out a musket for him to take, and what do you suppose my Commanding Officer does? He looks me straight in the eye as he asks the Detail Commander whether or not this musket actually contains a ball. The Detail Commander says that he is not certain. Generaal Bijl then orders the Detail Commander to be absolutely certain that his musket does indeed contain a lethal projectile. He did not merely want to watch my execution, he wanted to actively participate!”

“That sorry bast***, not Generaal Bijl, but the Detail Commander, actually discharged the weapon and loaded it again in front of General Bijl, making sure it was very obvious that the ball was solidly rammed into the barrel. I hate to admit it, but I nearly wet myself at this point. Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get worse, Field Marshal Blackburn put his hand on the shoulder of the last soldier and ordered him out of the line while calmly taking the man's musket and stepping into his place. My Guards Commander, Generaal Rietveld, then stepped forward, followed in turn by Field Marshals Hall, Jones, Nelms and six other officers of the Guards. I was feeling quite faint at this point, but it got still worse. My mentor and trainer, Generaal Moss, was the twelfth, and last, senior officer to join that auspicious line. I watched him slowly load his own musket himself. I must say that the sadness I saw in his eyes nearly brought tears to my own.”

“When all was ready, the Detail Officer bellowed, "Ready......Aim......Fire!!!" (Sorry bast***!), and my whole world erupted in a cloud of white smoke....”

"Oh, thank you my dear", said the Hanoverian Staff Officer as Helga set a full glass of Jagermeister on the table. The Hanoverian officer paused as he downed the shot of Jager in an attempt to steady his nerves, the memories being as vivid as if they had happened only yesterday...

Dear Brigadier Jones,

Are you related in any way with Hieronymus Carl Friedrich von Münchhausen also known as Baron Münchhausen ?

_________________
Général David Guegan

3ème Régiment de Grenadiers - Bataillon d'élite du 3ème Légère
2ème Brigade
Grenadiers de la Réserve
Réserve
La Grande Armée
--------------------------
"From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step."
Napoléon Bonaparte

Military justice is to justice what military music is to music.
Groucho Marx

Not in any direct relation, but I did so enjoy his stories as a youth. We called him "Opa Carl", and would all eagerly gather round at every opportunity to listen to the tales of the adventures of his life. He passed away when I was fourteen. I think I have missed him every day since.

Now, lets see.....where was I? Oh, yes, I remember now.....

The scribe looked up from his writing, and gave the Hanoverian Brigadier a puzzled look. “If you were actually placed in front of a firing squad, and the order to ‘Fire’ was issued…”

“Sorry bast***”, muttered the Hanoverian Staff Officer under his breath.

“…then how in the world are you sitting here talking to me now”, asked the scribe. “I mean unless you are a spirit who has returned from the afterlife to inflict misery on the living…”

“I suppose there are a few that would categorize me thusly”, said the Hanoverian.

“How is it that you are not, well……dead”, asked the scribe.

“Oh, that is a simple answer”, replied the Hanoverian. “They missed. Every blessed one of them! Although I must admit that they did manage to succeed in blowing the Holy Crap out of the wall to both sides of me. I was so embarrassed. Not only did I really wet my pants this time, but tears were flowing from my eyes like a Frenchman who had misplaced his nail polish. But more than all of that, I was really just angry.”

“Angry”, asked the scribe. “I would have thought you would have been more relieved than angry.”

“Of course I was relieved”, replied the Hanoverian, “but I was also quite mad. You see, I am immensely proud of my army, and even at the cost of my own personal sacrifice, I want to see it do well. How in the Bloody Hell could twelve senior officers all miss a stationary target at such a close range! If they had been my Jagers, I would have placed them on KP and kept them on the target range for a full year, weekends included!”

“Perhaps they missed intentionally”, offered the scribe. “Perhaps they wished to impart a lesson, but not actually harm an officer that they deem to be of good character and merit.”

“I would like to think it was indeed an intentional act of mercy”, replied the Hanoverian, “whatever their reasoning. But whereas I did indelibly learn a valuable lesson in the proper performance of my duties, particularly with regard to the importance placed by our Senior Command on the army’s stash of hooch, the whole episode provided an unfortunate opportunity for the French.”

“The French”, asked the scribe. “I don’t think I understand how the French could possibly benefit from any of this.”

“Well, they did”, replied the Hanoverian Brigadier with a glum look. “Ever since the episode, that French fiend, Colonel Dumas, has been telling everyone that the Senior Anglo-Allied Command couldn’t hit a bull in the ass with a bass fiddle when they are sober! Now how do you respond to that?”

“I see”, said the scribe, “that really could be a problem.”

“Sorry bast***”, mutters the Hanoverian under his breath as he orders another shot of Jager.

Just be glad they didn't hand us all some proper cutlery or your goose would have been cooked. Now, speaking of "hooch", I believe my next few rounds are on you!!!

_________________
Field Marshal Mark Nelms

Well of course there were no actual balls in the weapons only double wads and powder...You see Generaal Bijl and I had a wager on whether you would acutaully wet yourself... He won...

_________________
Field Marshal Sir Edward Blackburn, 1st Duke of Aberdeen K.G.
85th (Buck's Light Volunteers) Regiment of Foot
16th British Brigade
7th Division
III (Peninsular) Corps
2nd Battalion, Coldstream Regiment of Foot Guards

I DON'T PLAY WITH ROUT LIMITING OR NME OFF

Did he just say the English had no balls for weapons?