17 August 1914, somewhere between Mons and Charleroi...
This is the first official battle in the war, and also our first official battle yet. Additionally, we got the first taste of our commander's unrivalled altruism right on the few days after the fight commenced.
The brigade mission was to collect intel in the region surrounding the conflicting zones, id est, we went straight into the Boches' territories. To lay as low as we possibly and humanly could, our reconnaissance tactics leaned towards espionage a little more than we fancied it. Our brigade was broken up into small squads of four to seven men scattering throughout the cities along the conflicting zones spanning from Mons to Lorraine, when the main battalion would operate according to the notices from each post; that is, if one squad calls us in notification of a new intel, we come right there. Also, did remind myself that this so-called "brigade" was... rather small? Much smaller than I expected. We totalled at one thousand and five hundred men in average, which is around... one and a half regiments. However the comforting assurance is that I overheard our Madame told the other cavalry generals who complained about the size of her puny unit that she specifically hand-picked the cavalrymen for this brigade herself, to the permission of M. de Castelnau.
I've never understood why our commander was affiliated to M. de Castelnau more than M. Joffre, the Maréchal. And then when I attended the generals' meeting the other day in lieu of my commander this morning, I heard from M. Joffre himself that the Brigadière's direct superiors were M. de Castelnau, who turned out to be a longtime acquaintance of our Madame (and by "longtime" I mean he had known her since she was a toddler), and M. French in the British side, because our commander turned out to be a (partial) British national. Wait, did I remind myself that our commander had been captured by the Germans a few days prior? That's how I turned up here, in the middle of a generals' meeting.
A few days prior, when we the main battalion was scouting on foot in the German's territory near Lorraine, we encountered an ambush. I had no idea why or how they got us, because our commander was so meticulous one would've had eagle's eyes to spot the uniforms under our cloaks. Nevertheless, they stroke first, and as we were about to draw our sabres out for defence, unexpectedly our commander ordered us to retreat. Retreat immediately to wherever the nearest Entente's territory was. She stayed a little behind to buy us some time, and thus was captured. We've no idea where the Boches brought her to, but we ought to go on without her. As Madame's adjutant, the fellow cavalrymen implored me to take charge of the main battalion and return to the headquarters, waiting for the next move. Since our commander was the brain of the brigade (and also are of the French Army), we couldn't act further on our own. Although the branch squads still went to collect intel, the main battalion would remain in Mons; moreover, the commands and decisions would be given by M. de Castelnau for the time being.
As we are being put on stand-by in Mons, there has been a burning worry within my mind lately, and it seems to me the chevalier brothers also feel the same. We are definitely worrying, and asking many questions. Where is Madame at the moment and is she safe? For young men like us, being miles far from home, Madame is the closest person we have to a mother, and thus there is no way we would accept any other commander leading the brigade but her. However, the situation lately isn't too bright, either for us or for Madame...
Why are happiness frequently cut short but suffering prolonged? I can't tell. Nor anyone in this brigade can.