To: Conrad O'Toole
Dearest brother,
I hope that this finds you well. As you know, from my previous correspondence, that the 41st is once more called to the front. I cannot, at this moment, divulge where we are heading towards as there is always the threat of the enemy intercepting this message. What I can say is that I will not be there for Carmilla's seventh birthday this coming year as the looming campaign promises to be a rather lengthy enterprise. Should this letter reach you after the fact, I trust that you know what to tell our dear sister. And should she be with you whilst you are reading this, send a maid to take her away for a moment as I must confide with you the things that I've witnessed these past few months.
These past nights, as of the time of writing, have not been pleasant to say the least. As a soldier of the King, I am no stranger to the tragedies of war, however the scale of death and suffering in this past engagement has inflicted a wound that I fear may have been dealt to my very being. In spite of the travails which are inherent to life on the march I cannot find solace in labour or duty; not even at the bottom of a bottle of spirits. What had come to pass cannot be done justice by my story alone, but for you to understand the situation I have been thrust into I feel that I must tell you the events as they happened to me and my men. I do this not for their sake only, but also for my own sanity.
The whole sordid affair happened over the course of three days. On the first day General Hoch had moved the 41st to the town of Rabensburg as part of his 'army of the lower counties'. The 41st regiment, along with other regiments from our country, were part of General Hawkins' division sent by our King to assist our allies in the west. We numbered no more than dozen regiments. We were with no cannon, no horse, and only enough ammunition for a brigade. Many of the uniforms worn by both the rank and file, as well as many an officer including myself, were faded and well-worn much like the men wearing them. These are symptoms of the neglect the nobility has given to men outside of the royal guard.
The previous night, as we approached the small town, we gossiped about the exact purpose of our sudden recall to duty. As Captain of the light company, I was privy to the talks of both the common soldiery and the gentry who commanded them. Many an enlisted man speculated about the state of the war and that King Otto had asked for aid from any ally that would render it. Meanwhile, officers were saying that we were sent as a gesture of good will to a friend and were not really meant to see combat soon. These opinions were not unique to neither the officers nor the rank and file, they were simply more common in their respective circles.
The truth, however, would be revealed to us in the morning when Colonel McMahon told his staff that we would hold the rightmost flank of the entire division. "Rabensburg is to be defended at all cost", he said to us. The men knew what was coming when we handed out an extra ration of grog for them to drink during breakfast. Our allies were kind enough to give us spare muskets and ammunition, which went to the line infantry. My men and I spent what few hours we had into moulding tight fitting lead balls and cutting out wadding. The wads allowed us to seat our shot more firmly so that our muskets may reach farther and more accurately than with standard paper cartridge ammunition.
The moment came when we were ordered to form up into a single column and we marched to our positions on the field. As the rest of the infantry were forming lines, I was sent to harass the enemy and delay them should they advance. We fired the first shots of the battle as my men exchanged fire with enemy skirmishers who had also been sent against us. It was only after the battle that I would discover that this was the case with other light companies across the line. Nonetheless we were making little progress as the enemy proved to be our equal in skill and determination. Neither of us were willing to cede ground, but my men had almost depleted half their ammunition.
I sounded the retreat and we slowly fell back while laying down covering fire as we went along. In our haste I tripped and sprained my ankle, thankfully my old friend Sergeant Jenkins saw me and helped me limp back to the safety of our own lines. Colonel McMahon saw the state I was in and allowed me and my men to tend to our wounds. The rest of the regiment was stood up in formation while the townsfolk of Rabensburg were digging earthworks. We watched as men, women, and children dug up trenches while our engineers oversaw everything. As my company moved to the rear to drink and rest, we heard the familiar drone of drums being beat.
Completing this grim orchestra were pipers playing marching tunes on their fifes as they and the colours led the advance. I had Jenkins take me to an elevated position, an old man's home, where we could observe the events as they unfolded. This was easier said than done as right after the first volleys were exchanged the field became obscured with a thick blanket of gun smoke. I could also hear the allied light horse artillery firing their six pounders. As a former line infantryman myself, I do not envy the men on the field for it is they, the brave or rather foolish sons of our kingdom, who must attempt to carry the day with nought but their zeal and bayonets.
Jenkins and I returned to our post as soon as both sides failed to gain the upper hand. While sharing a drink with the Colonel I learned that the 27th, 33rd, and 9th Regiments of the line were severely depleted after an enemy cavalry charge and that the 41st would have to send the entire 2nd battalion to reinforce the ailing centre. Major Galler had already marched his men north. He asked me about my leg and I simply smiled and said: "It'll be right as rain after another pint or two" We shared a laugh and went our separate ways. That would be the last time we would talk to each other.
The 2nd day of the battle had me fighting a fierce headache. Corporal Hastings roused me from my slumber and promptly helped me to my feet. I could not hear him at first as my ears were ringing louder than a steeple bell. As I came to, I noticed a gathering of soldiers in the Colonels tent. I want inside to see that Colonel McMahon's convulsing. The physician who was tending to him told us that he had been hiding his affliction through the constant use of stimulants and pain suppressants in order to continue leading from the front.
In the Colonel and the Major's absence, command of the 1st Battalion's command was taken by Captain Frederickson of the Grenadier company. He spared no time in manning the earthworks created by the people of Rabensburg. My ankle was still a bit sore at that time, but not so much that I was unable to walk. We took what ammunition we could from the dead and wounded awaited the inevitable. Our wait was brief as the din of drums clamoured like thunder. The sound of cannon fire could drown it out only for a moment as the incessant rhythm with which they sounded never, for a moment, rested.
As they approached us, we opened fire at a longer range than even we were comfortable with. I estimate that we let loose at about three hundred paces, but we did so without the use of cartridges, and instead used wadded shot so we could fire a with more powder. Each time I pulled the trigger my weapon violently hit my shoulder in protest. We fired so much that by the time the enemy had reached a hundred paces, our barrels were too hot to hold. Sergeant Goldsworthy's weapon misfired on him, and almost took his finger. The rest of the battalion took over and loosed their volleys as the enemy neared our positions.
At that range, firing almost three rounds a minute, our line could only still barely match the enemy's own volume of fire. They charged us at the last moment but only barely managed to force them to withdraw. Corporal Hastings killed three men with his bayonet and bludgeoned an officer with his butt of his firearm. As they withdrew, I could hear the screams of their wounded littering the field yonder. The 2nd day came to a close.That night we ceased all hostility so that we may gather our wounded. I took the time to venture into the right flank. As I went up the line the scent of blood and gunpowder grew stronger and stronger. I could see dozens of men with bits and pieces of their bodies missing all lined up on blankets on the ground, barely clinging to life. Medical Aide mistook me for a patient, I kindly told him that I was fine and that she should divert his attention to those who really needed it. War does not discriminate, Brother. Whatever your race or creed, be you of the blood or otherwise.
What little solace a soldier can find in the field of battle, especially this one, were treated as if they were all the greatest treasures known to man. Letters from home, portraits, a serving of grog…these little things kept us fighting for they reminded us of better and brighter times. During my walk I met an old acquaintance. Colonel Joseph Harrington of the 24th regiment of grenadiers. He is one of the few officers in the army who are of the blood, but even with its blessings I now see him missing an arm. He tells me that a cannonball ripped it clean off during a counter charge. Were he not of the blood he would have died from his wounds. Even the tell-tale scent of wet dog emanating from a Lycan such as he was drowned out by the smell of rotting limbs from yesterday; something that Colonel Harrington's sensitive nose struggles with. I asked him about the situation in the centre and he reports that everything's gone to the wayside.
We ended our little conversation with a toast, he offered me a sip of hard spirits from his flask, which I readily accepted, and we parted. As I am writing this letter, I learned that Colonel Harrington had been promoted to brigadier. In any case, I was once more left to my thoughts as I awaited the third day. We were awoken from our slumber at the sound of horns. Our allies had sent two regiments to relieve us, but we saw that our replacements were greener than the grass their generals sent them to die on. Frederickson made a similar observation, so he asked those who were still willing to fight form a line.
Including myself, almost all who could still hold a weapon chose to remain. We do not blame the others for not wishing to continue, if it weren't for these new soldiers I would have gone too. And so, the battle came at around three hours after dawn. Captain Frederickson and I quickly showed the allied commanders to the trench line. There we once again exchanged fire with the enemy, but our numbers did not compensate for the poor performance of our allies. They could barely muster up a single round per minute, only managing two volleys before they were ordered to fix bayonets. Sergeant Jenkins and I shared a look of horror as the significantly more disciplined enemy line once more launched themselves at us.
Thinking quickly, I told a Colonel, or some other equivalent, and asked him, with my very poor attempt at speaking their language, to withdraw his regiment to the town instead of trying to brace against the superior enemy force. I presume he understood me enough as he then ordered his men to retreat. Captain Frederickson called for the remnants of my battalion to follow suit and assist. A certain Private Van Der Linde, may he rest in peace, provided a much-needed line of communication to us as he spoke our tongue fluently.
The other colonel stubbornly held his ground but his men routed and were consequently slaughtered. Colonel De Ruyter, the man who fell back, reformed his regiment into a battle line. Van Der Linde told us that his colonel intended to make a stand at the town itself. I then dispatched a message to the allied horse artillery in the rear to bring up their cannons to us. I could hear the hoofs of their steeds on the cobblestone as they hastily unlimbered their guns and brought them to bear. And not a moment too soon.
The enemy regiments finished mopping up the remnants of the other regiment and now rushed to take Rabensburg with another charge. This time, however, as they closed in, De Ruyeter's line fired off a single volley before making way for the horse artillery. They poured on a veritable hail of shot, slowing down the enemy advance, and devastating their front ranks. I took this chance and drew my sword, ordering my own men to fix bayonets, the 41st charged at the enemy. I felled seven men in the melee, by count, before I was stabbed in the shoulder with a bayonet. I managed to slay my would-be assailant but I lost the function of my sword arm. In the heat of Chaos, I could only think about reuniting with you and Carmilla and so I grabbed my blade with my left hand and kept on fighting.
De Ruyter's men soon joined us. I would like to believe that seeing us, foreigners, leaping headlong into the fray for their homeland might have stirred something in their souls. Together we defeated the enemy and forced them to take flight. When I asked for Van Der Linde, I was saddened to discover that he had been shot in the gut. As I've never heard from him again, and the mere fact that being wounded gravely in that area of the body is often a death sentence, I assume that he perished in the night. He was only 16.
That would be the final engagement of the battle. So many dead bodies, so many young lives snuffed out in the span of only three days. I would be amongst their number were it not for luck being on my side. I know not what transpired fully at the left most flank, but all in all sixty percent of all officers now lay dead, and another fifteen percent having serious injuries. And so, a round of emergency commissions was handed out by general staff. Major Galler took up a commission as Colonel of the 4th Regiment of Foot Guards. Meanwhile Frederickson was promoted to lieutenant colonel and was given command of the 41st. I too was promoted; I now bear the rank of Major and commander of the 2nd Battalion; Jenkins now acting as Regimental Sergeant Major.
Signed, your brother:
Major Sullivan O'Toole, 41st Infantry Regiment.
P.S. Tell father that he yet remains a giant prick.