Napoleonic Wargame Club (NWC)

The Lieutenant was an imposing figure as he strode towards the door of the Rhine Tavern. Taller than most, he walked with the saunter of a cavalryman, his green pelisse casually draped over his left shoulder. Entering the tavern, his attention was immediately drawn to several French officers who were talking in loud tones and glaring across the room at something that was obviously the subject of their ire. Following their gaze, he was not at all surprised to see that it was in fact a Hanoverian General that was the subject of their displeasure. Field Marshall Moss had warned him in training that his new commanding officer was often the object of French attentions. It seemed he was rather renowned for returning the swords of his vanquished foes here in the tavern. You would think they would be grateful for having their swords returned rather than simply broken, thought the Hanoverian cavalryman, chuckling to himself at the irony.

Walking over to the table where his new commander and several other Hanoverian officers were seated, the newly appointed commander of the Cumberland Hussars saluted Major General Jones.

“Ah, Lieutenant Borling, so good of you to join us today”, said the Hanoverian Commander as he returned the salute of his Cavalry Commander.

“Well, certainly sir”, replied the young Lieutenant, “after all you did order me to report.”

The Hanoverian General fixed his subordinate in his steady, blue gaze, noting the touch of surliness in his tone that was to be expected of any good Hussar. “So I did”, replied the Hanoverian Commander, “and here you are. First of all, let me congratulate you on your recent promotion."

“Thank you, sir”, replied the Hanoverian Hussar.

“In celebration, please allow me to buy you a drink”, said the Hanoverian General. “Major Friedman, would you like to do the honors.”

“Oh, yes sir”, said the Major with a malevolent grin as he filled a shot glass with Jagermeister, “I certainly would, sir.”

The Hanoverian Cavalry Officer noticed the eagerness in the Major’s tone, but gave it no heed as he bravely took the shot glass and downed the libation in one gulp. It was only then that he realized his mistake. That really burns, he thought as the liquid traveled from his mouth to his stomach. That actually really burns a lot! He could not help but notice the grins on the faces of the assembled Hanoverians. The fact that the Major was refilling his shot glass did not escape his notice either, but it was not the action so much as the enjoyment with which the Major seemed to associate with the task that worried him the most.

“Vell”, said a green coated Colonel of the Hanoverian Feld Jagers, “ ju are half vay der nun. Ja, ja, einst mehr und ve vill see vat ve really haf hier.”

“Another round”, asked the Hanoverian Major as he handed the young Lieutenant the refilled shot glass.

“No really, sir”, said the Hanoverian Cavalry Officer, “I think I should get back to my duties now. My horse had a shoe that needed repair, and I think I should tend to it as soon as possible.” Oh please don’t make me down another of those Hellish libations, he thought to himself.

“Ach, der ist plenty auf time to tend zu ihr Pferd”, said the Jager Colonel. “Just eins mehr shot fur the road.” Fixing the young Cavalryman with the gaze of an expert marksman, the Jager officer continued, “I insist.”

“Yes, sir”, replied the Cavalry Officer in the bravest tone he could muster, “Just one more shot, but then I really must go.”

“Ach ja, agreed”, replied the Jager.

Steeling his nerves, the Commanding Officer of the Cumberland Hussars threw back his head and downed the second shot of Jagermeister. By the gods!, he thought as the fiery liquid blazed a trail to his stomach, seemingly incinerating everything in its path along the way. He tried his very best to hold his composure, but his pain got the better of him. Not wanting to admit his agony in front of his senior officers, he nodded to them and turned for the door to leave. What started as a brisk walk developed into an outright sprint as the infernal liquor began to very painfully dissolve the lining of his stomach. Bolting out the door, he leapt to his horse and proceeded at a full gallop away from the tavern.

Watching him rapidly fade into the distance, the amused Hanoverian Commander turned to his men. “Well, gentlemen, what shall we call him?”

“Der Einsame Reiter,” said the Jager Colonel.

“Very well, Colonel Peccolo,” replied the Hanoverian Commander, “the Lone Rider it is!”

Gentlemen officers of the NWC, please join me in a toast to our newest Hanoverian, Thomas Borling, and congratulate him on his promotion to Lieutenant, if he ever returns of course.

Join the Prussian Army and serve Germany Bravo Lt drink with us next time

Welcome Thomas!

Lone Rider? What happened to the animal motif? I would have expected Derr Stinkbug or something along those lines... In any case congratulations Thomas.

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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

Welcome to the Hannoverians!

A glorious future awaits, and the next three rounds are on you. But do not feel compelled to mimic Mark's unfortunate preference for alcohol-laden mouthwash. Schloss Johannisberger Rotlack Metternich is quite potable and well known for encouraging conviviality. And for making young ladies very compliant.

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Every generation gets the Greeks and Romans it deserves.

History is a bad joke played by the living on the dead.

ciongratulations

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Thank you very much, Gentlemen. Next drinks on me.

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Brigadier Thomas Borling
79th (Cameron Highlanders) Regiment of Foot
8th British Brigade
5th Division
II (Anglo-German) Corps
Anglo-Allied Army

Aha! Der Einsame Reiter hast returned und just in time, meine Glass ist empty.

Helga, Helga Ich muss mehr trink haben. Was? Vie viele? Oh,.....hmmmm Vielliecht Zwolf Flasche for a beginning Ja, ja, genau, ve don't vant to scare him too bad yet.

Zo, mein Herr, konnen Sie singen? Kennen Sie eine schone Lied?

Vell, I shall start our party mit ein guye Lied, Sie mussen alle Singen!

Was?!? Ja, ja... if die Frenchies vant to sing along es its ok, Wir haben eine Hochzeit!


Es klappert der Huf am Stege,
Wir ziehn mit dem Fähnlein ins Feld;
Blut´ger Kampf allerwege,
Dazu sind auch wir bestellt.
Wir reiten und reiten und singen,
Im Herzen die bitterste Not.
Die Sehnsucht will uns bezwingen
Doch wir reiten die Sehnsucht tot.

Dörfer und Städte flogen
Vorüber an unserem Blick.
Wir sind immer weiter gezogen,
Für uns gibt es kein Zurück.
Wir reiten durch Täler und Hügel,
Wo der Sommer in Blüte steht;
Es knirschen Zaumzeug und Zügel,
Der Wimpel hoch über uns weht.

Leis sinkt der Abend nieder,
Uns wird das Herz so schwer
Leiser werden die/unsre Lieder
Wir sehn keine Heimat mehr
Wir reiten und reiten und reiten
Und hören von fern schon die Schlacht
Herr, laß uns stark sein im Streiten
Dann sei unser Leben vollbracht.


Ahhhha, ha, das war sehr gut! Sehr Gut. Welkommen, welkommen....

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Congratulations Lt Borling and yes the drinks flow freely here and the quality is always a surprise

Now that the allies are singing its time to get back to the filed of battle!

That's right I'm talking to YOU LADDIE! Colonel Peccolo!

I do believe dropping in for a quick shot of, LOL 'Dutch Courage' is encouraged, but hanging around while your troops are on the march in the face of the enemy could be considered a dereliction of duty Sir!

Enjoy the action young lieutenant

I freely allow each officer to choose thier own nickname, Ed. I must then develop a tale that makes the nickname plausible.

Hey, Der Stinkbug would be easy, but we all might be compelled to vacate our beloved tavern in the spinning of that yarn.

Last one out is a rotten egg!