The British Grenadiers

"All the business of war, and indeed all the business of life, is to endeavour to find out what you don't know by what you do; that's what I called 'guess what was at the other side of the hill.'"

-Sir Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington

On the afternoon of the 24th of May, the forest of King’s Wood seemed unremarkable. The sounds of birds and animals living in harmony with the environment engulfed the vast green woodlands, as the living critters spent their time in joy, not having to worry of any danger or problem at all. It was a quite nice spring afternoon, with not a single cloud on the sky, and the sun slowly making way for his white partner to take his place. However, not everyone could take the liberty to enjoy the day. Within a few minutes, the lull that kept King’s Wood as a peaceful and harmonious environment was corrupted with the sound of drums, fifes and shoes, as the British Army marched through the woodland road.

All across Great Britain the war effort had caused the recruitment and training of thousands of soldiers, who were then embarked in a ship and sent to fight the French in Spain. But this time around, the enemies were no longer the blue-coated Frenchmen. The war with Napoleon came to an end after the siege and capture of Toulouse, and now His Majesty’s army turned to meet their other enemies, the Americans. Due to innumerable casualties in the peninsular campaign, the British forces were in a dire need for reinforcements. The eighty second regiment of foot, in particular, had lost hundreds of men within the last few months, and due to their heavy losses, the Grenadier company of the first battalion was sent home a week before the French surrender.

It was this same company, believe it or not, the one disturbing the quietness and peace that used to be present in that unremarkable forest in Devonshire. One hundred and twenty seven men, armed to the teeth and clad in bright red coats, white trousers and tall, black shakos, marched through the narrow dirt road that cut through the endless walls of vegetation. They were formed up in a column, divided into ten sections, each marching in a two-rank deep line, one section behind the other. Each of these small groups was commanded by a serjeant, men who were fairly notorious amongst the other soldiers, simply because they carried long, pointy pikes, as opposed to a musket.

At the very front of the column, four gentlemen stood out from the rest. Two of them, the ensigns, were very young commissioned officers. These ensigns, despite their young age, were tasked with the single most important task in the entire company: Protecting the colours, the 82nd’s most valuable and important devices. One of these boys, Mister Jacobson, was the bearer of the Regimental Colours. It was a yellow flag, with a Union Jack in the canton and a big rose wreath in the centre, which surrounded the symbol of the Prince of Wales. The other lad, Mister Woodworm, who was a few years older than his fellow man, carried the King’s colours, a union jack with a rose wreath in the centre. Inside this wreath, there was a small red shield, which had written ‘LXXXII REGT’ in the inside, with the Prince of Wales’ plume above it.

In front of the ensigns, the major and captain of the Grenadier Company led the column on horseback.  The major, Lord James Verulam, was the man in charge of delivering this column to the naval port of Plymouth, where a ship was waiting for their arrival. He was a fairly tall man, with auburn eyes and long brown hair, which was tied up into a ponytail. Like most members of the British nobility, James was a very rich and well educated gentleman. Loyal to his king and country, he purchased his commission in 1807, and took part in the peninsular campaign as the second in command of the 82nd Regiment’s Grenadiers.

Next to him rode the newly gazetted captain of the Grenadier Company, Mister Williams. This man, as opposed to the other officers, did not get promoted to captain. Instead, he purchased his captaincy in 1813, without any prior experience in the army. He was immediately assigned to the 82nd Regiment’s second battalion, the reserves, and thrown into a smelly training camp in Lancashire, where he supervised and organized the training of new recruits. He pretty much hated his life at this point. However, he was also a very good liar when it came to dealing with women, and it is fair to say that he was quite good inventing fake battle anecdotes, with the sole purpose of getting him in bed with a lady.

***

The column advanced steadily through the woodland road. The sounds of fifes and drums echoed in the soldiers' hearts, as the musicians were playing a quite sentimental and meaningful tune: 'The Minstrel Boy'. It was a fairly new Irish song, which told the story of a young Irish boy who joined the ranks of the British army, and died in battle. Most of the men there could relate to that situation, as many lost friends and relatives in the war against France. It did, however, raise their spirits. Music always helped the men marching forward, since it allowed them to have fun singing along and sharing laughs and giggles, rather than complaining about their feet hurting or being uncomfortable.

In the very front of the column, James and Williams were discussing their next course of action. The sun was going down, and sooner or later the men will need to eat and rest. Lord Verulam knew there was a town nearby where they could spend the night and buy some supplies, and mentioned the fact to his second in command. Williams, having no idea where to go otherwise, agreed with his commander, and both settled to take a small detour from their route and head towards a town named Buckfastleigh, which was situated but a few miles east of King’s Woods.

James estimated it would take about an hour to arrive at Buckfastleigh. Given the rough terrain of this road, and the fact that it wasn't particularly straight, made the journey quite exhausting and slow. But most of all, it was starting to feel a bit out of place as well. After one and a half hours of constant marching, the Grenadiers were still deep into the woods, with no sign of an exit. It made no sense at all, since the entire forest road was merely a few miles long, but they had been marching for hours, and it never seemed to end.

"Uh... Milord... Did we take a wrong turn or something?" asked Jacobson, who was clearly eavesdropping on their conversation at that point. Williams then turned to face him and formulated a reply.

"I really doubt it, Mister Jacobson. And even if we did turn the wrong way, we should have left King's Wood hours ago..." He trailed off, concerned and slightly afraid of the situation. "Something here is wrong. We've been marching in circles all this time."

"I will argue against that, captain", said James in a serious tone. "This road, yet not perfectly straight, always leads to an exit. I've been here countless times before, and let me tell you, sir, something is very, very-" Out of nowhere, a loud growling silenced the major's voice. Both the major's and captain's horses stopped dead in their tracks, and began looking in all directions, terrified. "Serjeant major! Halt the column!" yelled the captain, completely startled by the noise. His order echoing through the ranks as the serjeant major shouted the order to halt.

"I did not like that, Mister Williams... Not one bit. We better dismount, I do not wish my horse to throw me face first into the dirt", suggested the major. Both officers dismounted and handed the horses to the colour serjeants, who were marching alongside the ensigns.

It was all silent now. The musicians stopped playing their music, the soldiers didn't say a word. Soon, another loud growling breaks the silence. Some of the men start to shake in fear. Others, simply stand at attention, doing their best to ignore their feelings. The ensigns were both terrified, and despite the colour serjeants' comforting words, they were simply out of their senses. They were merely fifteen and seventeen years old. Too young for this kind of horrors.

"Orders, milord?" asked the serjeant major, doing his best to look professional. The  officer looked at him confused, without any idea on what to do. Giving up and not having any better idea, he resolved to do what he thought was adequate for the situation.

"Have the men form a square by the fifth section. Colours, musicians and our horses in the centre, if you please".

"Certainly, milord." He turned to face the column and raised his voice. "Infantry will form a square! By the fifth section, FORM!"

Without losing any time, the Grenadier Company quickly formed up in a square formation. Since the road was very small, they had to expand into the forest, forming up in between the trees. The ensigns and musicians moved inside the square, followed by the other officers, the colour serjeants and the horses.

"Company! Fix bayonets!" ordered Lord Verulam. The men obliged, deploying their long steel knives on their muskets' muzzles.

More silence. After the noise of metal hitting metal ceased, not a sound could be heard. A few moments later, and out of nowhere, the wind picked up a massive strength. The Prince of Wales' Own Volunteers' colours were now waving furiously, showing themselves proudly and gallantly.

The officers, now quite shaken by this indescribable and strange turn of events, drew their swords from the scabbards. James, not wanting to take any chances, pulled out his flintlock pistol with his left hand, and held it ready to fire at the first threat he encountered. Williams and the three lieutenants in the square did the same, not having any better idea.

Things began getting more and more bizarre, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon. In fact, it looked like time had gone absolutely crazy at this point. Day and night, swapping from one to the other within seconds. In one of the lieutenants' pockets, a golden watch had gone mad as well, and was hastily turning it's little hands, in an attempt to follow the odd day-night cycle.

The men of the 82nd Regiment were extremely confused, and kept on trading looks as the sun and moon fought over their presence in the sky. Trying his best to remain calm, the major closed his eyes for a moment and tried his best to think a way out of this. However, due to all the stress he had, it was impossible for him to think. He was, however, interrupted by a loud and evil sounding laughter. He darted his eyes open and looked around, seeking the source of that voice.

"Oh... what do we have here?" That same male voice said out of nowhere. It was echoing through the woods, and it was not possible for any of the men to determine it's origin. It's American accent immediately put the men on guard. "The silly humans think they actually can resist?! Hahahahaha! This is marvellous! Simply hilarious!"

"Who goes there?! Show yourself you ruffian!" yelled the commanding officer. It only caused the voice to giggle.

"Hahaha! You would really like that, don't you, James? What? Do you think I am stupid or something?"

"Why are you doing this?! We have done nothing to you! In the name of King George of England, come out of your hole!"

"Tsk, tsk... Ah... Jamie... when will you learn? You cant defeat me... After all, you are the British Redcoats... the mere scum of the earth"

"Oh you will pay for those words, sir! Come on, coward! Come out so we can have a duel! Let us solve this like gentlemen, if you have any sense of  honour, that is!"

"A DUEL?! HAHAHAHA! Oh my that was a good joke, Jamie! And the whole "honour" thing... Priceless!"

"Enough of this foolishness! What do you want from us, if I may ask?!"

"Oh... not much, my dear. You see, you gentlemen are important, okay? And therefore, you must die. Simple as that."

A sharp feeling of fear hit the men upon hearing those words. The gentleman took a second to think his reply, but knowing he didn't have any other option, and that they were surely upon an unavoidable fate, he spoke again. "We will not go down without a fight, and you know it! Come on, show yourself and show us what you've got!"

"Oh... I am sorry, my poor Jamie, but I have to attend some business elsewhere. Chaos is so fantastic, and it can't be limited to a single place." As he pronounced those words, a thick, dark fog began brewing around the formation. The noise of wood twisting and breaking took over, as an awful smell made it's way to the men's noses. "I must get going now. Have fun with the timber wolves, gents! Ta ta!"

And just like that, his voice was replaced by growls and howls. The senior officers cocked their pistols and got ready to shoot.

"Company, make ready!" yelled the serjeant major. The men fully cocked their muskets and got ready to fire. The front row of the square took a kneeling position, allowing the back rank to fire above them. "Present!" They all proceeded to level their muskets, aiming at the fog. The tension in the ranks was almost palpable. Lord Verulam spoke up in a commanding tone. "Infantry will fire at will at any moving object! If it moves, you shoot it!"

Then, out of the fog, came running a wolf looking creature, jumping directly at one of the men in the square. About five men discharged their muskets at the beast, only one managed to hit it, though. The wolf fell right on top of one of the men, and it's dead body disintegrated, turning itself into wooden sticks and splinters. The men were shocked.

Three more of those things ran into sight, heading straight towards the square in a great display of fearlessness. The men opened fire, killing only two of the beasts. The third lounged towards one of the privates and dug it's wooden teeth into his arm. The ranker cried in pain as he fell to the ground. The man next to him kicked the wolf on its 'ribs' from the side, then as the wooden creature ran back, he struck his bayonet deep into the monster's head. Just like the others, the body turned into branches, sticks and splinters.

A loud howl gave the signal for the rest of the wolves to attack. Almost three dozen of those demons charged the square. The infantry, despite their constant musket fire, would not be able to hold them for long. They stabbed them, they shot them, they kicked and smacked them with their muskets' stocks, but the damned things kept coming.

In the midst of the battle, one of the musicians, a fifer, was hesitating about an idea he had. Deciding there was no use, and that it wouldn't really matter anyway, he put away his sword and grabbed his beloved instrument. He placed it on his mouth, and began playing a tune, 'Men of Harlech'. It was a song dedicated to the defenders of Harlech castle during the War of the roses. The other musicians recognized the tune, and without asking any questions, they grabbed their fifes and drum sticks and began playing along, in their best attempt to raise the men's morale.

The rankers and officer also recognized the tune. The major, in particular, had listened to it before, in another battle back in Spain. He knew that song very well, and without thinking twice, he mounted his horse and began shouting.

"Come on lads! Push these demonic creatures back into their holes! Let then feel the might of King George's Army! Let them taste our lead as it tears through their veins, let them feel our bayonets as they pierce their hearts! Show these ruffians how they should never insult the Prince of Wales' Own! In the name of His Majesty the King! HOLD THE SQUARE! HOLD IT YOU BUGGERS!"

Loud cheers from the red coated men erupted all over the formation, as one by one, the timber wolves fell. The square held for ten more minutes, incredibly, with no man getting killed at all. Those who were injured were brought inside the square and quickly replaced by another person. The music kept on playing, but was almost silenced by the screaming and hollering of the Grenadiers. Soon, the attack was finally repelled, and the wooden creatures retreated into the fog.

For one minute, the square remained silent and on guard, ready to receive another charge. However, it never came, and the fog slowly began dissipating. Still weary of their surroundings, the men stood still in their positions, bracing their bayonets and ready for another strike.

Slowly, a light blue aura emerged from the ground beneath the square, surrounding it completely. James, still weary of what was going to happen, decided it would be for the best to stay inside the lights, rather than leaving the area. He didn't really know the reason, but that thing below him did not look menacing at all. In fact, he and the other men felt quite comfortable inside the blue circle that now surrounded them completely.

From the centre of that circle, right below Williams, somewhat of a logo was formed by the light. The major, curious about this strange apparition, dismounted from his horse and walked directly at the glowing icon. With a closer inspection, he noticed it looked like somewhat of a coat of arms, which contained two winged horses, flying around the sun and moon. The white horse was flying towards the sun, while the darker one, towards the moon.

What happened next is very hard to explain. The light blue glow that surrounded the square turned white, and an extremely bright flash blinded the entire company. Many of the men began crying in pain, as the light hurt their eyes.

James opened his eyes and found himself on the ground, the other officers surrounding him. Williams stretched out his right hand and helped the major get up from the dirt. Everything seemed back to normal now. The forest was still there, the sun was fixed into the sky, no longer arguing with the moon, the fog and horrible stench were gone too.

However, something was different. When he paid a closer attention at his surroundings, James noticed the forest looked fairly different from King's Wood. The most obvious change was the season, as the entire place was covered in brown and orange leaves, which kept on falling and falling from above the square. And also, there was another small change: By the edge of the road, there was a small wooden sign post. From afar, it looked fairly normal, but when the red coated man gave it a closer look, he stared at it confused. It had a small horseshoe nailed on the top, and had the words "Ponyville: 20 miles" engraved on it's front.