A Short Distraction

Posted on Fri Nov 12th, 2010 @ 11:03pm by

1,035 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Lost Friends
Location: Holodeck 1

[ON]

Pultusk, Poland. 11:00am. December 26, 1806.

Zhukov looked down the hill with his spy glass. "Lieutenant, notify the battery commander that the French infantry ought to be in his range in under a minute. And furthermore, notify General Bagavout that they are coming in force." Vladimir said from the back of his horse.

"Yes, Colonel!" shouted the young lieutenant as he galloped off on his horse at full speed and headed for the battery of guns that was on top of the hill beside them. The French Army had been maneuvering all morning to get into place in front of them. Zhukov estimated anywhere between 25,000 to 30,000 highly trained French soldiers now opposed them. But their going had been slow. The fall had been unusually warm in the days, and even now, there was no snow on the ground. The sun had melted it all and the roads and fields were turning into muddy bogs that slowed down the masses of infantry as they moved.

The superior numbers were on the Russian side, however. They mustered about 35,000 men, held the high ground, and were on the defensive. The Russian Army here also had more artillery then their French counterparts. However, the morale, training, and battle experience of the French Army of Napoleon was vastly superior to theirs. In the end, that might make the difference.

Zhukov put his spy glass back into the saddle bag beside him, turned his horse, and rode towards his battalion of Russian Azov musketeers that stood at the ready behind the hill. As he galloped up to them, the young Lieutenant had returned from his mission.

"Well?" Zhukov asked him.

"Sir, the battery commander reports that he has orders to hold his fire until the French are closer, then to give them double cannister fire." he reported to Vladimir.

"Damn. Who told him that?" asked Zhukov.

"General Bagavout, sir. He reports that the French are also moving on our right flank, and that the left, that we have to hold here." reported the Lieutenant.

Zhukov took a deep breath. "Well, how does he expect twelve battalions of infantry, and a twelve gun battery to hold off...all that?" he asked, not really expecting an answer back. He didn't get one.

"Very well. Tell General Bagavout that I believe the French will try to flank our position....there." Zhukov pointed through a small gap in the hill to his right where there was a section of trees. "That is where the French will eventually have to come if they want this position and our guns, and believe me son, they want both." Zhukov said to him.

The Lieutenant just nodded as a shell exploded overhead. He could hear the sound of the drums of the French infantry in the distance drifting in on the wind. They were close now, maybe not even 500 meters.

Zhukov turned his horse around to face his troops. "Men!" he shouted as loud as he could in hopes that they could all hear him. "Our enemies approach! Their next stop is our homeland. We must hold them off here if we hope to win this war and protect our families." Zhukov said. "Prepare for battle, men. LOAD!" he shouted the last command.

Zhukov rode down the line and around to the rear of the formation and dismounted from his horse. No sense in making himself a bigger target than he would already be. He walked over to the bugler of the battalion. "Bugler, sound the officers call." he told him. In an instant, the bugler played the familiar tune. Officers from the front line companies heard the call and began to run quickly back towards him.

Within a minute or so, they were all assembled. "Gentlemen, here is the situation. We must hold this ground as long as we can." he said as the Russian artillery behind him began to fire.

"I will move the battalion to the military crest of the hill to a point where the French won't be able to see us until they come up over the rise. That gives us the element of surprise, but it's also a draw back in a way. Your men will have, maybe three shots to fire before they're infantry are on top of us with fixed bayonets, so the three shots you DO get must be accurate and deadly. Do you understand, gentlemen?" he asked his company commanders. They all nodded. "Good. Dismissed, and God be with you." he said as they saluted him and ran back to their commands. The fight was about to get hot.

"Commander Zhukov, will you please report to Holodeck 2?" came a familiar voice. It was Lieutenant JG Davizzi. Had she crashed another ship?

Zhukov sighed...and just when things were getting interesting here. He said, "Computer, pause and save program as Zhukov Battle Pultusk four." he said. Instantly, the computer beeped and the entire room went back to the familiar black with yellow outlined squares of the Holodeck. Zhukov walked over to the comm panel next to the arch and tapped a button.

"This is Zhukov. I read you Davizzi. What happened?" he asked. He knew she was running the flight simulation program.

"Um, I don't know sir. But something hit the ship." she replied.

"In reality or in the program, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"Oh, no, sir. In the program. I can't figure it out. Can you...."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a little while. Give me about ten minutes to get dressed. I can only spend about twenty minutes there. I have...something to get ready for later. OK?" he asked her.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." she replied.

Zhukov closed the communication. He walked towards the exit and thought to himself, Why bother to go to his quarters and get changed just to come back down here?

So he decided to just head for Holodeck 2 down the hallway. She would just have to deal with the fact that he was wearing an early 19th century Russian Colonel's uniform with a sword at his side.

[OFF]


Lieutenant Commander Vladimir I. Zhukov,
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Ranger

 

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