Napoleonic Wargame Club (NWC)

The Chef de Battalion takes a seat at his usual table in the corner of the common room. Helga approaches to take his order for some food and libation. She carries with her a saucer of milk for Josephine, who has come into view to circle around the Tirailleur's boots, and settle in below the table.
"Thank you, Helga," the Chef tells her, "And please let Lt Col Kling know I am here when he arrives, as I wish to congratulate him on receiving command of the 2nd Brigade, 1st Div, IV Corps."
"Oh, that is wonderful news for him," Helga answers. "I will have a small sweet cake, like I know you French officers are so fond of, ready to present him with."
"Wonderful, and thank you again." The Chef is excited for his comrade, who he has come to know by working beside him in forming the combat team the Tirailleurs et Dragons!

Chef de Batt might what to use this Bravo mon ami bravo !

Congratulations on your recent promotion to Brigade Command, Al!

As Lt Colonel Kling enters the Tavern he sees his friend Chef de Battalion Schmidgall sitting at his usual table petting his favorite girl, Josephine. Heading that way he walks by the Hanoverian Brigadier stops and thanks him for his congratulations he recently sent via courier. Moving on to he greets and thanks his fellow officer and Tirailleur et Dragon as well. Helga brings him a sweet cake and wine. "You look well and the fighting is proceeding at a good pace and I suspect with many victories in our future", says the Lt Colonel Kling. "I see you were talking to the Hanoverian", says the Chef. His friend replies that the Hanoverian congratulation him on taking command of the 2nd Brigade. The Colonel calls Helga and ask her to refill everyone drink in the Taverns. And then settles down to talk about the current events with the Chef.

You are very welcome, Colonel Kling. A much deserved honor, sir!

Now regarding Chef Schmidgall's comment as to the Hanoverian. Well, I must humbly admit that I am but one of many Hanoverians, all seemingly sent to populate this planet to restore thoughtful reason and sense to the miserably misguided followers of a most charismatic, Corsican tyrant. Nay, sir, we Hanoverians are as populous as fleas, and will never falter in our resolve to forcibly depose the Empyreal Brigand of France and restore proper order to the tattered vestige of human civilization.

Oh look, my Jager has arrived! A good thing, as drinking straight water nearly proved fatal.

Yes fine sir there are many Hanoverians, and I am sure many would agree that there is only one, The Hanoverian! or as I like to call him, The Happy Hanoverian!

Battle On

If it be the truth that these two tilleurs de dead dragons have agreed to meet BG Jones and myself on the field of battle, then I suggest they send a courier posthaste. Else the opportunity to shine my boots might be lost.

As for fields of battle, it is my custom to leave it up to the junior officers to choose the field. It matters not to me.

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FM Sir 'Muddy' Jones, KG
2nd Life Guards, 1st Squadron, Household Cavalry
1st Duke of Uxbridge & Anglesey K.G.

At a table in a back corner another British Field Marshal sits trying to enjoy a quiet meal. The noise from the center of the room causes him to raise his head to see what the commotion is about. Hearing all the babbling about swords causes him to chuckle and give a long glance at his fork before tossing back his whiskey and returning to his plate.

_________________
Field Marshal Mark Nelms

Field Marshall Nelms, salute!
I see you have finished your whiskey, may I buy you another, sir?
And I was wondering, is that a dinner, or a salad fork?
Regards,

The Chef de Tirailleurs sits at the table with his comrade Lt Col Kling.
"Well my friend, the gauntlet has been placed before us," indicating the great mailed glove that lay on the table. "And we shall accept this challenge, for the honor of L'Empereur and La Grande Armee (to whom this challenge was issued at large).
Even now my courier has gone to meet the Field Marshall at his encampment.
And Brigadier Jones is in contact as well." The Chef places a packet of messages beside the gauntlet.
He remains silent for a moment, taking a sip of his glass of wine, the fine vintage that Helga had brought him to celebrate his assignment to Le Grande Etat-Major General.
"We must finish here, sir," he tells his friend, " and repair to our quarters, where there is a battle to find and plan."

And Lt Colonel Kling replies, "And Win!" and he adds , "We need a little bravado with this one and we shall Battle On!"

Well thank you Sir! Always allow the followers of that Corsican pissant to buy me a drink as better your purse then mine as my Scottish lads would say. This is a dinner fork which the rules of civilized warfare don't allow me to carry into the field.

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Field Marshal Mark Nelms

Field Marshall, sir. At least the pissant as you name him had the fortitude to crown himself.

Pause.
Ah, here is your whiskey, thank you Helga.

Now, as for tyrants conquoring free peoples...
It seems there is a Scottish crown missing... ?

Regards,

Well, before these fine officers leave, we must have a good sing along Ach, ja Herr Schmidgal, it is another one I don't think you have heard . aber, I must first wet my whistle Helga, mein tankard is dry Ach, ja, das ist der Stuff! So, were was I? Ach ja, ein Lied!


Im Wald, im grunen Wald,
da steht ein Forsterhaus.
Da schaudet jeden Morgen,
So frisch und frei von Sorgen,
des Forsters Tochterlein heraus.
Tirallala, Tirallala, des Forsters Tocherlein heraus.

Lore, Lore, Lore
schon sind die Madchen von siebsehn, achtzehn Jahr
Lore, Lore, Lore
schone Madchen gibt es uberall.
Und kommt der Fruling in das Tal,
gruss mir die Lore noch einmal,
ade, ade, ade

Ach, do you hear das? Hmmm, the battlefield calls to me. I may be off to Russia, but then, my Russian always perform for me in the most dire of situations. Ade, Comerades!

_________________

Well played sir, well played! A drink for you as soon as I can find someone's tab to put it on.

_________________
Field Marshal Mark Nelms