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SgtMunro
Soldier of the King
USA
Bumppo's Patron since [at least]:
September 23 2002
Status: offline
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 Posted - October 24 2005 : 08:08:06 AM
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“All Hallows Eve of 1764” By Sgt. Munro
Camp at the Forks of the Muskingum, The Ohio Country
31 October 1764 / 2130 Hours
The men of Graham’s Company settled in for a well-earned rest. During the past couple of weeks, all that they had known was marching, digging, cutting and patrolling. Now, more delegations, with prisoners in tow, have straggled in to the camp to beg for peace. Recognizing the need to rest his men, Colonel Bouquet instituted a series of relief days so as not to wear his army out.
Gathered around their fires, the men shuttered as autumn winds heralded the soon approach of winter to the Ohio Country. This was ‘Oíche Shamhna’, a time harkening back to the Druidic roots of their Celtic heritage. Even though there were no ‘official’ Druids left in His Majesty’s service at this time, except for perhaps Corporal MacIntyre, although he has never admitted it, the men still had a tradition of celebration by story telling.
Captain Thomas Graham of Duchray started, with his recounting of the tale of Major Duncan Campbell of Inverawe. He had told this tale, every year at this time, since 1758. The men were just as focused on the story, as they always had been, and still felt a chill at the end.
Private McKendrick, who was not in the army until after the Battle of Ticonderoga, asked, “Sir, I would not have believed it, if you had not have heard it firsthand.”
Captain Graham replied, “Aye young Hector; I was in the field surgery, recovering from my own wounds, next to Major Campbell, when he told me of his second-sight warning from his murdered brother.”
Lieutenant MacMillan added, “The most convincing aspect was that the Major was unfamiliar with the name ‘Ticonderoga’, till the eve of the battle.”
Graham gave a puzzled look at his lieutenant, “Fergus, every previous telling of my tale was always met by a skeptical look from you. Why now do you choose to find it believable?”
Remembering his encounter with the Wendigo, a meeting that he had never revealed to anyone; Fergus instead said, “As I grow with experience, I find it more rewarding to open my mind to all possibilities.”
The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken by the arrival of Sergeant Munro and his brother Welethetowaco. Both men were hefting a large oak cask. Looking over the gathering, Munro said, “Would ye care for a gift of spruce ale? Courtesy of our comrades in His Majesty’s Royal Regiment of Artillery.”
Graham smiled at his sergeant, and asked, “Winnings from a game of chance, Sergeant?”
“Nae Sir, I am quite aware of the prohibitions on gaming while on campaign.”
“Besides Sir, a knife throwing competition is more of a martial exercise.” Corporal MacIntyre added.
“Very well.” Graham said with a laugh, “The men may partake in the fruits of your labor, Sergeant, with my compliments.”
“Aye Sir, thank you Sir.”
The keg was tapped, and cups were filled. After the toasts to king and regiment, the men returned to their desired evening faire. Captain Graham motioned for Lieutenant MacMillan to tell the next tale.
MacMillan hesitated, “Sir, I’m not quite good at this sort of exercise.”
“Come now Fergus, you must have at least one tale to share on this mystical night.”
Thinking for a moment, MacMillan said, “Come to think of it, I do. Last year, at this time, I was having drinks with Ensign Campbell at the officer’s mess. He related a most fascinating tale to me.”
“Oh do please tell, Sir.” Drummer Stewart begged.
“Very well,” MacMillan started, “During the rebellion of 1745…”
Graham interrupted with, “I actually prefer the term ‘civil war’, since our people were divided, fighting for both crowns.”
“My apologies, Sir.” MacMillan continued, “During the civil war of 1745, in Prince Charles Edward Stuart’s retreat from Derby, the main body of his Highlanders were compelled, on their northward march through Badenoch, to make a short halt in the wild pass of
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Serjeant-Major Duncan Munro
Capt. Thos. Graham's Coy.
42nd Royal Highland Regiment of Foote
(The Black Sheep of the Black Watch)
"Nemo Me Impune Lacessit"
-Or-
"Recruit locally, fight globally." |
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Pte.MacGregor
Lost in the Wilderness
USA
Bumppo's Patron since [at least]:
June 28 2005
Status: offline
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Posted - October 31 2005 : 6:59:12 PM
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good one sarge!
Pte.MacGregor |
Pte. MAcGregor |
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Monadnock Guide
Council of Elders
USA
Bumppo's Patron since [at least]:
March 14 2005
Status: offline
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Posted - October 31 2005 : 8:39:44 PM
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| Now that really is good Sarge, - you should indeed publish. |
you can keep "The Change" |
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SgtMunro
Soldier of the King
USA
Bumppo's Patron since [at least]:
September 23 2002
Status: offline
Donating Member |
Posted - November 25 2005 : 08:49:04 AM
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Thank you guys, and I am presently working on the next chapter. I should have it out before next week is over, since I am also working on my non-fiction book which will be published.
YMH&OS,
The Sarge
P.S.: Cedric, will ye be attending our winter gathering at Fort Bedford? |
Serjeant-Major Duncan Munro
Capt. Thos. Graham's Coy.
42nd Royal Highland Regiment of Foote
(The Black Sheep of the Black Watch)
"Nemo Me Impune Lacessit"
-Or-
"Recruit locally, fight globally." |
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All Hallows Eve of 1764 - 31 October 1764
