Chapter 3: Ensign Sholon

It was very early in the morning. I woke up to Rocca's sleeping face. She must have carried me to the bed. She looked very cute. I would love to marry her, if only she wasn't absolutely crazy. My thoughts were cut short when I realized my current predicament. I needed to escape. I slowly sat up and slipped out of the covers. Taking my bag of luggage that I kept partially packed in case of an emergency, I slipped on my coat and opened the door. I turned my head back to the bed. Rocca was still fast asleep. If there was one thing that hasn't changed, it was that she was always a heavy sleeper.

I quickly exited the house. I didn't know what to do now, but I first needed to hire a coach to take me far away, possibly to a small coastal town. As I jogged to my destination, I felt my arms dying. I took a moment to breathe, leaning against a brick wall. Damn, this bag was heavy. I heard a slight tear, I was leaning on a poster. Yikes, I better not damage it any further. I stand up and try to inspect the damage.

All clever, supple, healthy,

Young Fellows,

Who have a Mind to be a soldier, and be free at the end of ten years, by applying to

Capt. John Rulsk at Ponov, will immediately receive the Highest Bounty given, and be placed in the

73rd Regiment of the line

...

Why didn't I think of that earlier? The kingdom was vast, and there was a good chance that I would be sent away to one of the colonies. Rocca wouldn't be able to take me since I was obligated to serve the full period of the contract. It was also a prestigious job. I, as a noble, could start off as an officer and have a good career. Compared to some other jobs, this could be taken right now, and my status would be intact. I'm going to Ponov. I took a quick look at the details and the minimum age to enlist was sixteen. I was seventeen.

I met Captain Rulsk at Ponov and purchased a commission to become an officer. It was ten thousand dollars, or in other terms, most of my personal savings, but it was worth it. He was shocked that a noble would join the army in a small town like Ponov. Apparently, less than a percent of the officers in the whole army were of noble birth. He gave me a magical artifact as a gift. It would protect my ears from any damage.

I tried on my uniform and kit. I put on my white undercoat and gray trousers first. A gray coat went on next. I put a brown haversack on my back. The haversack was to hold my equipment for the campaign. On top was a rolled drab greatcoat for protection against the cold and rain. I placed a black Shako on my head, decorated by a red pompom and fronted with a silver eagle. On my feet were black gaiters and a pair of sturdy leather boots. On my waist were my bayonet and officer saber, in their respective scabbards, held by a shoulder belt. The shoulder belt also held a cartridge box and powder horn. Finally, my haversack and belt were secured by a white cross belt. It was quite the cool uniform, I have to say.

I wrote letters to home and to Winston. I wrote that school wasn't for me and that I wanted to serve the kingdom by joining the army. I hoped that they would forgive me for my rash decision. After hesitating for a while, I also wrote to Rocca. I explained that I loved her but I wanted her to be more independent and make friends. After sending the letters off, as well as shipping my personal belongings back home, I stayed at the inn until training began.

The training was significantly different from what I've seen on earth. Even though Maeortz had one of the best-trained armies in the world according to the instructors, it felt a bit lacking. Most of the time was spent on the parade grounds, which are the equivalent of modern training grounds. For six months I trained alongside the rest of the men. Most of the time was spent marching and drilling formations. Occasionally, we would practice with live ammunition. There were no targets to aim at as the weapon fielded, The Auburn pattern musket had very poor accuracy, and thus had a short effective range of around a hundred meters. We practiced firing until we reached a rate of 3 shots a minute. Reloading the damn thing was a grueling task.

It was a sunny day out on the parade grounds. The regiment in training was split into half battalions today.

"Form a line on my right!" an officer called.

We hurried up and formed a 2 rank deep line. This was the standard formation for engaging the enemy.

"Close up!"

Soldiers on the same rank stuck as close as they could to each other. When our formation would take casualties, this order would also be called to fill in the gaps.

"Present!"

Our muskets came off our shoulders and aimed at the direction of the imaginary enemy.

"Remember, aim at their chest, and aim at the man directly ahead of you. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir!" We shouted in unison.

"Fire!"

A single deafening noise rang out through the air as we fired in unison. The thick smoke that flew half a meter from our muskets turned the hill in front into a blurry haze.

"Rally square!"

We quickly bunched up and formed a loose square. As I found myself in the front row, I kneeled down. We jostled each other, forming proper ranks so that the rally square would become a real square. In this formation, all muskets could fire from the three rank deep formation.

"Fix, bayonets!"

We removed the bayonets from our scabbards and clipped them to the muzzle. Now the square was plumed with bayonets, a perfect formation to fight against cavalry.

The day came to a close uneventfully. A week later, we were finished with basic training, and I went on to Tula military college to complete the officer part of my training. I would be an ensign, the lowest officer rank, in the newly created 73rd regiment of the line, a standard infantry regiment. As an ensign, my duties would be to carry the colors of the regiment, and that was about it. I was quite surprised. Nevertheless, I would be promoted in a year or two, so that would not be too much of a worry.

I bunked with a man named Edward Furls. He was an average-looking man with black hair and brown eyes. He grew up on a farm and joined the army young. He was twenty-two now and was recently promoted to ensign for his multiple acts of bravery. He was a good guy and loved to watch birds.

"Do any of you know what the most important quality in the army is?" The instructor said as he paced around the room, stick in hand. "It is discipline. Without discipline, our forces would be a ragged mess, and even the sight of approaching cavalry would drive them away." He stopped in the middle of the room.

"This is why everything we do as officers first and foremost is to maintain the discipline of our soldiers. The drills, the punishment, the band, the colors, everything. If your men are willing to listen to every order, you have the finest soldiers." He continued on with his lecture.

I learned that formations were also a part of keeping morale in the ranks. If a unit was moving well, they felt more secure on the battlefield. During the rest of my stay, I learned about rudimentary tactics, camp placement, logistical management, and other areas of importance. Another half a year passed. My training was over, and I was officially appointed as an ensign. I stayed at a nearby barracks, and quickly made friends with the other officers. I received letters from Winston and from home, but Rocca never replied.

"Listen up men, we are being sent to reinforce the colonial forces at Holona. Pack your gear and say your goodbyes, we are going tomorrow." Our Major, Paul Ilor said. From what I heard in the news, tensions were rising between the colonial government and the local Banta empire. After a messy family tree from the previous Banta emperor, the claim to the throne was split between two sons. Huh, my first deployment. I'll be far away from home, but this is what I wanted, right?