The colonel then turned and left to meet some of the other senior officers. Captain Hayward smiled at the major. “It’s bloody good to see you.”
After eating some warm food, the captain was ready to help out. The major informed him he would be in charge of the same detachment from the fort. This was the best news the captain had heard in a while. The thought of not being with them during the conflict now felt wrong. The major admitted he wanted to be there with them as they did the hard graft, but said he had been ordered to check on all the Engineers serving in the field.
Corporal Heinz had been given special dispensation to be allowed to continue serving under the captain. Sergeant Butcher was glad they were being kept together as there was a certain bond that had been created by the whole episode.
Private Chamberlin was loading a wagon with Private Brown.
“Cheer up, mate. She’s only behind the wall.”
Private Brown half-smiled.
“Thanks, Alex, but you know what’s coming. Yes, this is the biggest British force I’ve ever seen and look how many other foreign armies are here! How can we lose? But you’ve seen those things; this isn’t about men versus men. We’re up against something far more sinister.”
Alex’s smile faded.
“Look, if things start to go wrong, go find her and flee to the Britain. I hope and pray we win, but war is war: someone will lose.”
The two men were joined by Private Clegg and the veteran. They continued to load the wagon with stakes and then set off to the front line. The dust cloud in the distance had started to settle. This told them what they already knew: they were here.
Captain Hayward had his horse brought to him. Before leaving to join his men he rode to the top of one of the man-made mounds. It was a fantastic vantage point. He could see all the different armies preparing for battle. To their immediate right was the Swedish army and next to them were the Italians, followed by a French division. In the forests to the south were Prussians and another French division. To the immediate left of the British forces was a Spanish army, followed by the Austro–Hungarian army. Covering the north was a French and a British cavalry brigade.
The stakes covered miles of fields and small mounds were being built in front of each army. On these mounds Gatling guns were being placed with sandbags around them. The height was sufficient to avoid killing any men below. The idea was to have as many rows as possible of soldiers behind sandbags below the Gatling guns. Heavy artillery was placed further back. There were long-range and short-range mortars and artillery at a lower level to support the soldiers on the front line.
Captain Hayward left the mound and joined his men in the field. It was good seeing them and the response he received in return indicated they were happy to see him. Charles Hayward was not a man to sit and dictate work; he got stuck in. The mines being laid were a good distance from the stakes. Ditches were being dug and filled with barrels of oil and explosives. Most of the hard work had been done and the soldiers in the fields were putting in the finishing touches.
It was interesting watching their engineering counterparts working next to them; so many nationalities coming together for the common good of Europe. The scouts had been stationed in the small villages outside the city. Nothing had been reported yet, but the air was one of anticipation and nerves.
The hours were swallowed up with planting mines and creating sandbags. The Engineers were not alone; whole regiments were using the soil from the freshly dug ditches to fill the bags. By late afternoon the captain felt the whole day catching up with him. His men looked like they had hit the same wall.
Sergeant Butcher came over and reported that the mines and other stakes were finished. The British were slightly ahead of the other countries, but only by a whisker. Several men were finishing off a dugout that would be used to ignite the mines. The men in it would then have to run as fast as they could through the fields of stakes, over the ditches and back behind the rows of sandbags before the mortars and Gatling guns opened up.
As the light started to fade and the men began to talk about food, a small group of riders came across the fields. Snipers took aim. It was of utmost importance that the riders were carrying their countries’ flags, otherwise they would have been shot. It turned out to be French and British scouts. The news was filtering in that the enemy had been spotted.
A small skirmish had broken out in Nogent-l’Abbesse a village less than three miles away. The enemy scouting party was huge and rapidly overran any resistance in the village. Directly in front of Nogent-l’Abbesse was a small forest. This gave the enemy the cover they needed to launch an attack. However, it was also hoped it would slow them down when they began their assault on Reims.
The different field marshals gave the order for all armies to “call to arms”. They hoped this would not result in a night battle.
Major Richmond thanked his men as they gathered for supper. There were different units pushing on to the front lines, but for now the Engineers were allowed time to rest and eat.
“You’ve all done well, men. This is a defining moment in a conflict that threatens the whole of Europe.” His speech could not be heard by all the Engineers as there were so many, but he made sure he got his officers to pass on the information.
The generals fretted over their flanks. Precautions had been made to cover them with units in the south and north, backed up by large cavalry regiments. Still, not knowing about the enemy’s tactics troubled many.
Field Marshal Prince George hoped for one more evening before the battle commenced. Communication was going to be paramount to the success of the European army and ammunition not far behind that. Tactics had been discussed as many still linked back to the Napoleonic years. With weaponry changing and firepower increasing, question marks were raised over the soldiers fighting in lines. The problem was, the eve of battle was neither the time nor the place to undertake a major reform.
Soldiers filled the forward positions quietly and together. The artillery crews checked the cannons and prepped the Gatling guns. Fireworks were loaded into mortars to use should they need some sort of night guide in the eventuality of an evening attack.
The Engineers were allowed to move back to the camp behind the wall. They would be joining the frontline soldiers if an attack materialised. Their main role had been to assist behind the scenes – building bridges and carrying out engineering tasks, but this war had brought them much more to the forefront of warfare.
Charles Hayward spoke to his friend Harry about the pending battle. He wanted to have clear instructions in case he did not return from the battlefield. The men took each other’s notes and tucked them away inside their tunics.
Cooking for this vast army was a mission in itself. The camps had small farms working away to provide fresh meat for the different nations. Captain Hayward wondered if the enemy could hold out for a month or two. How long would this force be able to cope? The sheer attrition involved was monumental.
The soldiers from the fort in the Carpathian Mountains gathered together. They were all under the command of the captain and it was a good time to enjoy their food and rest. The nervous tension was still there hanging over them all. The wait for the first gunshot or cannon rumble defined the mood.
A few small fires were lit and folk songs broke out sporadically. Music was a fine way to relax and it brought the men closer together. There were some good singers amongst the group and when they joined together in chorus it was a harmonious event.
Soon the food was served and the mood turned to rest. The captain became lost in his thoughts and looked at his family picture.
Chapter 27
Outside Nogent-l’Abbesse other preparations were being made.
“My lord, they have built a large defensive system stretching around Reims. What should we do?”
Nazar sighed.
“Have you seen my army? What man-made wall will stop us?”
He pointed to a sea of drone soldiers, flesh-eaters,
long-limbs, wolves, bears and heavy artillery.
“My queen is taking the battle to them in the north of Reims. She will drive the enemy into confusion and in the South, General Georgiy will squeeze them through the forests.”
The general kept his head lowered and waited to be spoken to again.
“We will attack tomorrow. I want to see them suffer with my own eyes. Prepare my forces and victory shall be ours tomorrow.”
He turned his horse and made his way towards his tent.
“Remember, I don’t want them all killed. I have need for some of them alive.”
Chapter 28
It was early August and the sun felt warm even at seven-thirty in the morning. The officers noted this and sent out orders for water to be prepared and sent out to all men at the front. The logistical side of any army was massive; with so many men, great preparation had to be taken by the orderlies and supply service.
The soldiers on the front line ate some breakfast as fast as they could. The Bugler could sound the alarm at any moment and it was hard to say when they would get another chance to eat.
Many of the men were enlisted only a short while ago and the pre-battle nerves showed through. Some were throwing up, others drinking a little alcohol discreetly to calm themselves. This was all done under the keen eye of the officers. No point having drunk soldiers in a battle situation.
A flock of blackbirds sprung up from the forest directly in front of the British forces. They did not resettle in the forest, but flew over the soldiers as if leaving whilst they still could.
Silence followed, tea was drunk and food consumed. Then a whizzing sound burst through the air above followed by an explosion as a shell slammed into a patch of fields. The shell was off target, but left a huge crater.
The Bugler called for the soldiers to stand to. All the home nations complied. The men leaned against the sandbags waiting for their first sight of the enemy. The Gatling gun crews primed their killing machines and scanned the horizon. Nothing came.
The morning passed and the heat grew stronger and stronger. Water was being administered by the orderlies as often as possible.
The occasional soldier was passing out and was swiftly replaced. The sick were taken to the camp to be assessed. If any soldier was caught faking it he could face a court martial.
Captain Hayward rode to the front with a small detachment of Engineers. The major was there with several other senior officers pondering over a map on the back of a cart. Translators were on hand to feed information back to the command centre where the field marshals were congregated.
Lunchtime came and went. There were no more shells or movement. An order was given to send out a small reconnaissance squad to gain an idea of what was happening on the enemy front. Rumours circulated that they had thought twice about attacking such a large modern army and turned and made haste with their tails between their legs.
A rider came charging past with news from the North. In his dispatch: “An army like no other has descended on us, fighting bravely. Not sure how long we can hold out without reinforcements.”
A hurried meeting was called and the order was given to send the reserves to the North.
Within thirty minutes over half the allied reserves were marching to the North to add to the divisions there. No sooner had the soldiers left than despatch riders brought notice of a huge army pushing through the forests in the south of Reims being led by a female priest.
The field marshals had feared they would try to flank them, but not from both sides and with such force. The worrying truth was starting to come to fruition. Captain Hayward arrived at the front and greeted Major Richmond. Whilst he dismounted, shells started to crash into the defence all along the front line. They took cover behind some sandbags and watched in horror as men and horses were torn to pieces in the explosions.
The damage to the defences was considerable and there was no let up in the bombardment. The troops had some field artillery in the shape of eighteen-pounder cannons, but there was nothing to fire at.
The bombardment lasted around ten minutes. When the smoke dust settled, there was a sea of destruction. Men were seen walking around without arms or crawling without legs. Casualties had been high, even with the added protection of the sandbags. The army medics with orderlies arrived promptly on the scene, taking away the injured men as well as they could.
Captain Hayward took out his binoculars and scanned the forests for movement. At first he could see nothing but oak leaves gently swaying in the summer breeze, but then came the familiar drumming sound. The noise grew louder as figures started to emerge from the forest. The captain could see a mass of flesh-eaters, their lines only broken by drone soldiers on horseback, seemingly guiding them to their target.
It took a few minutes for the senior officers at the front to react. This was mainly due to the fact that many had not seen the flesh-eaters before, staggering along, mouths half open and flesh hanging off their decomposing bodies. The officers were still watching through their binoculars when Major Richmond jumped on his horse and rode to the nearest field artillery with the eighteen-pounders. He was short with the officer in charge of that particular unit: “Open bloody fire on them!”
“I’m afraid, sir, that we must get an order from the field marshals for us to open fire.”
Major Richmond shook his head.
“For the love of God, fire, man, before they are upon us.”
The field battery officer was caught in two minds and pondered over what to do. Fortunately the Swedish field cannons were the first to open fire, triggering a massive, thunderous barrage of shells flying into the oncoming enemy ranks.
The mortars started to open fire as well, which was then followed by the heavy artillery further back. The shells caused carnage, unseen before on this scale to the advancing ranks. Limbs, heads and torsos were blown to pieces, and yet still the enemy advanced.
With all the nations firing their cannons, the noise along the front line was deafening. Cannon smog drifted over the soldier ranks and blurred their vision for a short while. The enemy kept on advancing, their casualties increasing by the minute, but this did not stop their momentum.
Fresh shells were brought to the frontline constantly. The field marshals were anxious about the fighting in the South. The forests would act as a more defensive shield as the soldiers fought hard to control the enemy advance. There was only a small reserve force left, but the decision was given to let them leave to reinforce the South.
The frontline British soldiers could now see the oncoming flesh-eaters and drone soldiers. The heat and dust left every man’s mouth parched and dry, but water was not easy to come by during battle. Orderlies were heavily involved with taking out wounded men and bringing fresh munitions.
The Gatling gun crews prepared to unleash hell upon this army of darkness but they had to wait until they came into range. Soldiers prepared themselves behind the sandbags and officers braced themselves for battle. The field artillery was now firing at close range at the oncoming force.
Captain Hayward was with Major Richmond. The major was commanding a small engineering force and was involved with helping any logistical needs around the British army. The captain’s main force was helping the defences at the wall.
Sergeant Butcher and Corporal Heinz were alongside him. They watched the battle unfold from a command mount that had been heavily fortified. As the enemy came into range the first Gatling guns started to open up. The rattling sound was just as piercing as the cannons. It was absolute destruction of flesh and bone. It started to cut through the enemy’s ranks with ease. Thousands died. Even the soldiers at the front were taken by surprise at the sheer power of all the machines and their destructive combined force.
They were not allowed to dwell on this as the order was given to open fire. This coincided with the Gatling guns reloading or overheating. The soldiers with their breech-loading rifles were equally deadly. The repeated volley fire was spellbinding and started to
push the enemy back. The shells continued to land amongst the retreating enemy, killing yet more in their thousands. The drone commanders wasted no time in redirecting their forces and rumblings of sheer joy as their enemy retreated could be felt in the air.
The senior officers did not celebrate this first taste of victory. The scores of foe killed were ghastly and had not been seen in this number on a modern battlefield, but the nations that had previously fought the beast already expected more. They had seen the effect of what this new predator could do and how it had swallowed up most of Europe in less than six months.
“Charles, there is news that an army has been seen marching towards Paris. They have overrun the North,” Major Richmond appeared concerned.
Captain Hayward looked out across the battlefield. In his eyes was reflected the carnage of war and the sheer destruction of lives.
“Our families are there, Harry.”
They both stood looking at the smouldering fields. The orderlies were working very hard to take away the wounded and resupply the front line. The Engineers were also involved in this process. Captain Hayward gathered his men and helped with this requirement.
The field marshals were behind the defensive wall constantly having dispatches brought to them. The scene was chaotic as commanders s worked overtime to get each other’s views across about battle plans. This was stopped momentarily as explosions hit the south side of the wall.
The order was given to pull the Prussian and Italian units inside the camp and defend that side wall. It had to be a speedy manoeuvre as the long-limbs were breaking through from the forest and attacking soldiers as they retreated. Shells were also falling amongst the retreating armies, causing confusion and heavy casualties.
The jaws and powerful limbs of these creatures were difficult to fight against. Their numbers meant they were isolating small pockets of soldiers, who instinctively tried to help their comrades. The disorder did not help and the sight of drone soldiers advancing with flesh-eaters created an overwhelming need to retreat and to get inside the camp.
Europe Has Fallen Page 29
