Chapter 1: The Crossing of the Duna
It was dark. The Coalition troops besieging Riga were exhausted. The Swedish artillery and those damned gunboats had been blasting away at the redoubts all day and well into the night. They had stopped four hours ago. Four hours of blissful silence which would allow the men to rest. General Paykull was adamant that Saxon courage could defeat the enemy even if there were 300,000 of them. The men thought he was a fool. Many wished Von Steinau were in command, but he was still in Kokenhusen chasing phantom Swedish cavalry, at least that was what Paykull said.
It started small. At four o'clock in the morning with the rumble of guns on the river. Then came the smoke as blazing wrecks crashed into the redoubts dug into the shoreline. The Swedes were attacking. Private Georg Steiner was a member of the Saxon infantry, he was awoken first by the fire and then by the smoke. He heard the Feldwebel shout "To Arms! The Swedes are making a crossing!" And grabbed his musket. Unfortunately the smoke was blinding and he and the rest of the company were firing volley blind into the smoke, hoping to hit something. He heard the Thunder of guns from the Garras redoubt not too far from his position, but the return fire from those blasted gunboats beat a booming cadence against the night. Soon the guns from the Garras Redoubt went silent. And after what felt like an eternity, Georg's company was ordered to muster for an assault on the Swedish Bridgehead.
Georg readied himself for the assault as his company moved into position, he went over a checklist of his gear in his mind, to distract himself from the fact that he would soon be plunged into battle with the foe that had thrashed the Russians at Narva and forced the Danes to bow out so quickly.
The call to advance came and Georg followed his orders. He could see the Swedes now, blue coats with yellow standing to to protect their bridgehead. Georg stood by for volley fire and as he fired his musket, he could have sworn he heard laughter. He pushed the thought aside as his shot rimmed into a Swedish coat, blood blossoming against the blue, forming an odd contrast. Reload and fire. The man to Georg's left, Johan Spengler took a Swedish bullet to the shoulder as Georg dropped another Swede. Johan would be lucky to keep the arm with that wound. Another volley and Georg dropped another Swede, yet the enemy still held. A trumpet somewhere sounded charge, and Georg barely had time to fire a fourth round which missed the Swedish ranks before he was fixing his bayonet and charging. He lashed out with his musket, spearing a Swede through the gut, retracting his improvised spear to parry aside a Swedish bayonet before bashing the man's skull in with the stock of his musket. The world spun around him as he lashed out again and again. His company killing Swedes and being killed in return, yet still he thought he heard laughter.
The Swedes wouldn't break though, and soon the retreat was sounded. Georg's company had failed to beat back the Swedish Bridgehead. Another assault was called in from a different part of the line but Georg wasn't part of it. He heard later that Von Steinau had returned and launched a cavalry raid on the enemy, allowing the Saxon forces to withdraw in good order, but all he could think of on the march back to Poland was the laughter. It wasn't until later he realized that the laughter was his own.
It was dark. The Coalition troops besieging Riga were exhausted. The Swedish artillery and those damned gunboats had been blasting away at the redoubts all day and well into the night. They had stopped four hours ago. Four hours of blissful silence which would allow the men to rest. General Paykull was adamant that Saxon courage could defeat the enemy even if there were 300,000 of them. The men thought he was a fool. Many wished Von Steinau were in command, but he was still in Kokenhusen chasing phantom Swedish cavalry, at least that was what Paykull said.
It started small. At four o'clock in the morning with the rumble of guns on the river. Then came the smoke as blazing wrecks crashed into the redoubts dug into the shoreline. The Swedes were attacking. Private Georg Steiner was a member of the Saxon infantry, he was awoken first by the fire and then by the smoke. He heard the Feldwebel shout "To Arms! The Swedes are making a crossing!" And grabbed his musket. Unfortunately the smoke was blinding and he and the rest of the company were firing volley blind into the smoke, hoping to hit something. He heard the Thunder of guns from the Garras redoubt not too far from his position, but the return fire from those blasted gunboats beat a booming cadence against the night. Soon the guns from the Garras Redoubt went silent. And after what felt like an eternity, Georg's company was ordered to muster for an assault on the Swedish Bridgehead.
Georg readied himself for the assault as his company moved into position, he went over a checklist of his gear in his mind, to distract himself from the fact that he would soon be plunged into battle with the foe that had thrashed the Russians at Narva and forced the Danes to bow out so quickly.
The call to advance came and Georg followed his orders. He could see the Swedes now, blue coats with yellow standing to to protect their bridgehead. Georg stood by for volley fire and as he fired his musket, he could have sworn he heard laughter. He pushed the thought aside as his shot rimmed into a Swedish coat, blood blossoming against the blue, forming an odd contrast. Reload and fire. The man to Georg's left, Johan Spengler took a Swedish bullet to the shoulder as Georg dropped another Swede. Johan would be lucky to keep the arm with that wound. Another volley and Georg dropped another Swede, yet the enemy still held. A trumpet somewhere sounded charge, and Georg barely had time to fire a fourth round which missed the Swedish ranks before he was fixing his bayonet and charging. He lashed out with his musket, spearing a Swede through the gut, retracting his improvised spear to parry aside a Swedish bayonet before bashing the man's skull in with the stock of his musket. The world spun around him as he lashed out again and again. His company killing Swedes and being killed in return, yet still he thought he heard laughter.
The Swedes wouldn't break though, and soon the retreat was sounded. Georg's company had failed to beat back the Swedish Bridgehead. Another assault was called in from a different part of the line but Georg wasn't part of it. He heard later that Von Steinau had returned and launched a cavalry raid on the enemy, allowing the Saxon forces to withdraw in good order, but all he could think of on the march back to Poland was the laughter. It wasn't until later he realized that the laughter was his own.
