The Redcoat

Ready yourselves

I woke up. My eyes snapped open as the sound of distant artillery fire crackled through the air. I jerked up so fast and suddenly, that my head hit one of the wooden beams of the cabin. My head throbbed from the wound inflicted by the wooden support. Although it hurt, it was a mostly minor injury. I took my hand off the bruise so I could look around the barracks, most of the men were asleep and their bunks full, with the exception of a few officers and other men of high rank. I got off my bunk and opened the wooden chest at the foot of my bed. There, laying so clean and neat, was my Red British army uniform. I slowly clothed myself in the red imperial silk along with my black hat and boots. I also grabbed my bayonet, ammo bag, and finally, my British bolt action rifle. I walked out of the barracks and into the camp, lifting my hand over my eyes to cover them from the smoldering sun of Iran. The camp was mostly vacant, with only a few redcoats and British officers hanging around. At the far end of the camp, standing next to a cannon was another redcoat, and my best friend, Charley Stevens. He was younger than me, but much more serious than me about the military. I walked over to him. "Well, look who it is, the late waker." he said with a sarcastic tone. I replied "Says the man who wakes up at 5 every morning". He snickered to himself and then said "I like a few hours to my self every once in a while. Seems like you could use some sleep. You were twisting and turning in your bed when I woke up. Were you having a nightmare or something" I remember the nightmare I had last night. "Also, what happened to your head, did you fall off your bunk?" he asked. I touched the bump on my head, which felt wet with blood. "I hit my head on one of the bloody wooden beams. That whole ceiling seems to get shorter and shorter every day" I explained. " Nothing you can do about that, is there?" We both fell silent. He then exclaimed "You know, if were not for the heat, I might have moved here when I was younger." I looked out over the valley. It was nothing but desert and shell craters, harboring animals, plants and diseases from Persia. The only remotely undamaged thing was the beautiful blue sky and the enemy fortress on the other side of the valley. "I don't know what you see in this place to make you want to live here" I explained with a hint of curiosity. He dawned the expression of a thinking man and said "Well, before the British, Ottomans, China and Russia moved in here, it used to be a beautiful landscape of trees and animals. Much better than the gloomy and depressed ambience of England. What city did you say you came from?" I thought for a moment trying to remember the scenery from so long ago. I then stated "Im from Bath, you?" He also thought for a second "Im from Westminster, London. Would have killed to move away from that damp, icy island of a country. Were would you move if you could?" Suddenly, we could here trumpets in the distance, so either we were getting ready to charge the enemy, or someone important had just arrived. "Come on, lets go see whats going on!" I exclaimed. We both mounted our rifles and ran to the sound of the trumpets.                                                                                                                                                                                                       When we arrived, we were at the port where supply vessels and warships docked with the outpost, and a large ship was heading towards the dock. It was a huge ship, with smoke bellowing out of its midsection, indicating that it is both propelled by engine and sail. It looked to be a Man o War, one of the biggest I have ever seen. A small congregation of officers and soldiers met to greet the ship. I leaned over to Charley and asked "Do you know what ship that is?" He then replied. "Are you serious, thats HMS Spartan, Admiral Wilson's flagship, but why is it here?" I looked back to see that the ship had docked fully. I could now clearly hear the trumpets, which were playing a fanfare of sorts. Then suddenly, a ramp descended from the side of the ship and made contact with the dock, just barely touching it. Then 20 soldiers, all armed with what seemed like ceremonial rifles and wearing royal guard uniforms, marched off the ramp in two lines of ten. The two lines then turned to face each other when they were all on the dock. Then a entourage of people, many in red military coats stepped off the boat, one of them even on horse back, and then the trumpets sounded again and one last man stepped off the boat. He was around 6 feet tall and had a big grey beard and a red military coat with gold and white markings. As he walked off the dock, the soldiers fired their ceremonial rifles into the air when he passed. I nugged Charley in the shoulder and whispered "Who is that, a prince, the prime minister?" He squinted his eyes to see if he could get a better look at the man. His face then enlightened into a suprised expression. "No!" he exclaimed. "Thats the king!"                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   My face turned blank. Why was the king here? In Iran? In a warzone? My question was answered when he greeted one of the officers and they asked "Your majesty, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back in London?" The King chuckled to himself for a second and then replied. "I might be a King, but I will always be a soldier at heart. Did you not get my message that I was coming?" The Officer put his hand to his chin trying to remember if they had received any notice. "No, Your Majesty. I do not believe we ever received one." The King looked confused. "Are you sure?" he replied. "I sent it by frigate, the HMS Marvel." The officer face lit up with remembrance. He then exclaimed "That explains it! HMS Marvel was sunk by the Prussian navy near South Africa last month. It was broadsided by two Man o Wars, the IPN Kaiser and the IPN Zestorer. Poor gal didn't even stand a chance." The King dawned a face of distraut. He looked to his left at one of his advisors. "Have the Kaiser and the Zestorer hunted down and immediately destroyed. They may sink my navy, but they will not hinder my influence, those coalition bastards!" He looked back at the officer, who had achieved a face of fear from the kings anger. The King then said "Sorry about that. Anyway, back to the point. You have not made ground in over 5 months so I have brought some backup." He then put his hand to his mouth and whistled. A group of about 20 servants came of the boat, all wheeling out a cart. Whatever these were, they must have been heavy due to the indication on each of the servants faces.                                                                                                                                          When the carts reached where the king was standing, he snapped his fingers and the servants began disassembling the crates. One by one, the contents of each crate were revealed. Half of them, were carrying multiple ammo boxes for what looked like cannons, but the other half, were carrying Britains new secret weapon. It was a big golden gun, mounted on a cart with a circular magazine and a single barrel. "May I introduce, our new mass produced machine gun!" The king announced with a pride that would put a lion to shame. He then stated "We combined the ammo and and initial design of the work of Dr Puckle with the firing mechanism and practicality of the work of Dr Gatling. This weapon will destroy the Coalition." he again said with over stated pride. He also added "In addition to this new technology, I am putting a man with experience with this tech in charge of this outpost. May I introduce Leftenant General Roach." The man that came off the boat with the horse stepped forward. He had a black mustache and a trimmed haircut. Most of the soldiers clapped to give a first good impression of our unit, but not me. I wanted to see what he could do before I praised him. Roach then mounted his horse and said in a deafening voice "I am your new commanding officer. Today, we are going to assault the Ottoman fort at the other side of this valley, and show the Turks the true meaning of British Dominance!" The troops let out a battlecry that woke everyone else at the base. He then yelled "Move to the Frontlines.Gunners, move the machine guns!"                                                                                                                                                                                                   We went to the trench that was designated as "The Frontline". The trench was a massive line the stretched from the beach line to the south to the mountains to the north. It was wet and muddy at the bottom of the trench. Every disease that existed was in that hell pit. One of my buddys even got Bubonic plauge from a rat there. It was about 10 feet deep, making escape nearly impossible if there was an artillery strike or a charge. It was a hellhole, but I lived in it. The machine guns were positioned right behind the trench, ready to unleash oblivion on the Turkish fort. There was another trench line around 100 yards in front of us. We could see the enemy Turks, moving frantically through the trench, scared. The Lt General was on his horse directly behind the machine guns. He unsheathed his sword "Ready!" I could hear the clicking of the magazine as they were loaded with the 1 inch caliber bullets. He then raised his sword up to the heaven "Aim!!" I could hear the grinding of the gears as the guns were aimed at the enemy trench. I quickly pulled out my looking glass to look at the opposing trench. I saw many men, some hiding, some running, some staying to fight, and even one that had a pistol to his head. I then heard a swift cut of the wind as he thrusted his sword downward. "FIRE!!!" For a split second, I could hear the cranking of the gun, and then....fire. The sound of the guns shook me to my core. I could see the yellow bullets flying over my head and glowing from the heat of the gunpowder. I again looked through my looking glass to see the carnage. I couldn't see much due to the fact that the bullets were conjuring up a sandstorm big enough to rival the ones in the Sahara, but what I could see scarred me for life. I saw one man perched over the side of the trench with a gash in his forehead. I saw one of the men running away had fallen over when one of the shots blew of his leg. I saw a ball of flames rise up from a part of the trench as a bullet hit a ammo store. It had lit multiple people on fire, wandering as the fire slowly incinerated their bodies. But there was one man that I remember to this day. He was standing behind the trench. He had a few bullet holes in his body, about 2 or 3, as well as missing part of his left forearm and his right hand had been completely been blown off. He had charred skin on his cheek, arms and legs, caused by the explosion. He stood there, motionless, as if he was dead before he had passed away. Another bullet hit his shoulder, he showed no reaction to this bullet, although it did knock him back a few inches. He again looked motionless, not even wincing at the pain. He was then hit in the head with a bullet which punched through his eye. He slowly fell to his knees. The Lt General raised his sword and the machine guns stopped firing, the smell of the gunpowder was in a war with the smell of death. "Ready yourselves, we will charge!" the Lt General exclaimed. We were no longer charging an enemy. We were charging a graveyard.........