Young bloods

'Major Buona Parte!'

'Up here, sir.' Napoleon waved an arm to attract the general's attention.

'What the hell are you doing, man? Get under cover before the enemy shoots you.'

'We're well beyond musket range, sir. And it's impossible to observe the situation from down there. Really, sir, you'll be quite safe up here.'

General Carteaux hesistated for a brief moment before he made his way over to the rampart and climbed up to join his artillery commander. The others followed behind and soon a small crowd had gathered on the edge of the battery to gaze across the open ground towards the fort.

'Continue firing!' Napoleon called down to his gunners before turning back to his guests. 'As you can see, we're already making an impression on their defences. One embrasure destroyed and a second damaged. Of course, they will try to repair the damage as soon as it gets dark, but our mortars have the range and will make life very difficult for them.'

'Major,' Freron nodded towards the fort, 'are you quite sure that we are out of range?'

'Of the muskets, yes, citizen. Of course, they might chance a shot at us from one of their cannon now that there's a few more of us to aim at, but they would have to be very lucky to hit us with the first shot.'

'Somehow, I don't find that particularly reassuring, Major Buona Parte.'

Carteaux's staff officers laughed nervously at the remark before Napoleon continued with the briefing. He pointed out the main features of the enemy's defences and how much damage the artillery would need to do in order to make an assault viable.Then Napoleon indicated the sites for the other batteries that he planned to construct in the coming weeks. As he concluded his briefing he noticed that, as he had been speaking, some of the mortar shells did not seem to have exploded.

'Junot, note to Captain Marmont. The enemy seems to have been extinguishing the fuses on some of our shells. He is to ensure that the burn time on the fuses is reduced by, say three seconds, and that-'

He was abruptly cut off as the party of officers was suddenly showered with lumps of soil. Several fell flat and covered their heads, and others leaped back into the battery. General Carteaux stood upright, but with a shocked expression on his face. Beside him the two representatives crouched down with hunched shoulders.

'What the hell was that?' Saliceti muttered, his face spattered with loose soil. Napoleon looked round and saw the place where the enemy cannon ball had struck the rampart a few yards in front of the group of officers. He pointed the furrow out. 'There, citizen. It seems the enemy has decided to try for us after all. Junot? You all right?'

Napoleon made himself turn casually to his lieutenant, tucking a hand inside his waistcoat to conceal the excited tremor in his fingers. Junot was busy wiping a thin screen of loose soil off his notebook. He glanced up at Napoleon and spoke with exaggerated calmness. 'I'm fine, sir. At least I won't need any sand to blot the ink.'

Napoleon laughed as he turned back to his superiors. Already Saliceti and Freron were climbing back down into the safety of the battery and General Carteaux was staring anxiously towards the enemy while his hands closed into tight fists.

'A fluke shot, sir,' Napoleon commented casually.

General Carteaux glared at his artillery commander for a moment, before he nodded. 'Yes, well. Thank you for the demonstration.You've done well, Major. Now I must get back to my duties.'

They exchanged a brief salute before Carteaux walked over to the edge of the rampart with as much dignity as he could muster, and then jumped down into the battery to join the others.

Saliceti peeped over the edge. 'Buona Parte, if there's anything you need, let me know.'

'Thank you, citizen, I will.'

'And please, young man, don't get yourself killed.'

Napoleon smiled and turned back towards the enemy, just as there was a puff of smoke from an embrasure on the fort. This time the shot passed overhead, to one side, and both he and Junot winced at the deep whirr of its passage.

'That's a bracketing shot,' Napoleon said quietly.'The next one will be close.'

'Yes, sir,' Junot replied as he rose to his feet and tucked his notebook into his haversack.

They stood still for a moment, before Napoleon risked a glimpse over his shoulder. The tail end of the group of staff officers was disappearing back into the communication trench. A dull thud drew his attention back just in time to see the earth erupt from the ground a short distance from his boots.

'Time, I think, to take cover.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Come on then.' Napoleon turned and hopped down into the battery, quietly pleased with the little display he had put on for Carteaux, and more importantly, Freron and Saliceti. When they had recovered from their shock they would be sure to recall his courage and imperturbability in the face of enemy fire. That was the kind of stuff reputations were made of. Napoleon looked round at Junot and mimicked. 'At least I won't need any sand to blot the ink. Lieutenant, you must have balls of iron.'

Junot grinned, and Napoleon punched him lightly on the shoulder. 'Just as well; you're going to need them.'

Chapter 77

As November began the weather turned. Cold rain fell, and the men were soaked through as they worked on two more batteries in front of Fort Mulgrave. The ground turned to mud and the work slowed as men waded through slick and churned muck to dig out drainage ditches and attempted to prop up the walls of the partially completed batteries. Then, at last, on the fifteenth day of the month, the rain stopped, the skies cleared and Napoleon gave orders for fresh ammunition to be brought up from the stockpile in Ollioules. But when the first keg was opened, it was at once apparent that the powder was damp, ruined by being left out in the rain of the previous week.

Napoleon scooped up a handful of the useless gunpowder. He rubbed some between his fingers and cursed as he sensed its stickiness. Looking up at Junot he muttered, 'When I find out which one of those incompetent bastards of Carteaux's is responsible for this, I swear I'll kill him.'

Junot remained silent, not wishing to worsen his commander's foul temper. Napoleon stared at the powder for a moment before he suddenly flung it back into the keg and kicked it over. As he wiped the residue from his hands on to his coat he forced himself to try to calm down. 'Send for some more. Make sure it's sound before they bring any down to the guns.'

'Yes, sir. Any orders for the men?'

'Orders?'

Junot nodded at the useless kegs of gunpowder. 'We can't continue the bombardment until that's replaced, sir.'

'No,' Napoleon responded sourly. 'Tell the men to stand down until further orders.'

'Stand down.Yes, sir.'

'I'm returning to camp. Send word as soon as the replacement powder turns up.'

'Yes, sir.'

Back in his tent Napoleon sat at his map table and examined his plans for the deployment of further batteries. It had been less than two months since he had been placed in command of the artillery and already he had constructed nine batteries to the west of Toulon, with plans for another four. His original force of three hundred men had swelled to nearly fifteen hundred, still hardly enough to service more than a hundred artillery pieces surrounding Toulon. As a result Saliceti had recommended his promotion to acting lieutenant colonel, and Napoleon was awaiting official confirmation before he had the epaulettes sewn on to his coat. It had been a meteoric rise, Napoleon prided himself, but the army was still little closer to taking the port. The slow process of breaking down the defences of Fort Mulgrave gnawed at his impatience. As did the refusal of General Carteaux to make the fort his priority. Even now, only two battalions of infantry were entrenched alongside Napoleon's guns. They were only there to protect the batteries, not to spearhead any assault on the fort when the time came.