𝓔𝓹𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓮 28: 𝓑𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓦𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓟𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓽, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝔀𝓸

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November 18, 1971, 5:00 P.M

Our troops stood outside Sacred Heart Cemetery, lying on the outskirts of West Point. Our comrades under Dimopoulous were a mere three miles away, but those three miles were thick brush and forest, with only one route through, but it was obvious that was a recipe for an ambush. Ambush and Bushwhack were what those dastardly rebels specialized in. Especially the Quebecois. 

We would need to advance through the forest and attack the besieging rebels from the rear, relieving Dimopoulous's troops and hopefully stop the rebel's advance south dead and even more hopefully drive them back north.

"Your majesty, our soldiers are ready to receive their orders," Samuel Palmerston said as he strode up next to me.

He was a veteran, an officer in the Levant War and after that serving as the governor ambassador in Rome... after the conquest of course. He knew how to fight a war, as did I. He was also the only man in the government I could firmly trust. He was the only one who I didn't fear was a conniving, plotting, scheming traitor and was firmly a supporter. 

"Sir Palmerston, how many casualties do you think we will sustain during this battle?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the grapeshot above the American Military Academy, where Jamopolous and his men were hunkering down.

Probably starved and cold. The ground was now as white as powdered sugar, which would make our soldiers stand out in the forest. Palmerston thought hard, as a miscalculation could have devastating repercussions.

"At worst majesty... 3000... half our force..."

I turned to him, shock painted across my features.

"3000? But that's the worst," I mumbled, "I want 200 men guarding Goethals Trail, to prevent rebel encirclements. I will personally lead 1000 men into the thicket in the center, I want you on our right flank with 2000 men, another 2000 on our left flank. Then another 500 looping around to cut off rebel support. Finally the last 300 men manning the planes and guns to support us from a distance,"

"Excellent your majesty, are those your final orders before the attack begins?"

"Yes, but I will give the order to advance,"

"Of course majesty," 

Palmerston nodded and went off to split up the troops. I felt my right thigh, where my pistol was safely holstered. I had been given it to defend myself, and unfortunately, I knew I'd have to use it. The only discomforting thing about this was the idea I myself would take a human life. The sounds of boots marching on the pavement filled my ears as Palmerston divided the Imperial Guard into different brigades and battalions. 

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Two soldiers stood by side as we crouched our way through the forest. Our feet padded and crunched on the snow as we maneuvered between the tall dead trees. We could hear the gunfire and cannon shooting away at Dimopoulous's men a few miles away. We had no idea what to expect here. Either no rebels, or tons of them. One of the men reached into his pocket and grabbed his radio.

"Alpha Six, this is Epsilon Two, what's your situation?" He whispered.

The radio crackled for a moment. Greek alphabet codes? Fascinating!

"Epsilon Two, this is Alpha Six, so far so good at Goethals Trail, no sign of the cockroaches,"

"Gamma Four, this is Epsilon Two, how's the right flank?"

Momentary crackling. My tall, thick boots led to small crunching in the powdery snow. I looked at two soldiers to my right and swung two fingers forward.

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