SUMMER NEWSLETTER.

The height of the season, and the sun is upon us, with a run of events recently upon us including a return to Ickworth just this weekend gone, and members of the 45eme facing redcoats at Sandhurst and up in the north of England at Alnwick castle, before which of course was the expedition to Malta and Quatra Bras.

A lovely shot from Alnwick.

Alnwick castle, where the army of the north tangled with the 68th.

Le Grande Armee at Sandhurst, if only they had been given a cannon each.

The 45eme view as the sound of battle and drift of smoke came up the slope at Quatra Bras, and below the farm gates.

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                                Malta, adventures in the middle of the Med.

It seemed ages ago that the announcement came that there would be an event in Malta next year, and then it was suddenly upon us!

From the gaggle of reenactors blocking up Air Maltas departure desk it was quite a full on experience. Sun, sea, sand and Cisk, and possibly a few blisters.

It was the biggest re-enactment event ever held on Malta and the organisers struggled valiantly in the face of several challenges thrown in their path at the last moment. The French forces encamped in the magnificent Fort St Angelo and the Maltese/British down the road in a hastily provided disused cinema.

Lifes a beach. A flurry of activity before General Bonaparte was invited to judge the sandcastle competition.

The battle of Mistra bay, rocks, thistles, ravines, more rocks, cliff faces, stubborn gnomes and a good long march to a village for drinks and dancing afterwards.

The battles were indeed memorable for the variety of terrain and scenarios going on, from the rocky slopes above to a hillside of pine trees and old walls, a battle on a sandy beach (which a few of the startled beach dwellers vocally opposed! Won't somebody think of the children!) and running through the streets, pausing for a car to pass before firing a shot off, to the siege and final surrender of a mighty fort.

Could almost be Eygpt, outside the ruins of the Opera house.

                           

The final defence in the face of food and ammunition shortages the valiant French had to surrender in the face of redcoats and a naval blockade, not to mention the locals up in arms over a few requisitions and un unpaid bar bill.

It wasn't all marches and muskets, food and drink keep the army happy and there were breaks in the schedule for sight seeing and for most units a whole day off in the middle with the festival of the sea celebrations and fireworks in the evening. Malta was a lovely place to be and hopefully the 45eme will march there again one day.

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LEIBERTVOLKWITZ.

prelude to the battle of the nations.

                                                 

        On the thirteenth of October, 1813, Marshal Joachim Murat was falling back to the southern  outskirts of Leipzig when the Emperor sent word to halt and retrace his steps, the ground to the south held a great view of the approaches with a low hill and marshes on the right protecting at least one flank. Hold the ground!

Murat, being Napoleon's commander of horse, had a wealth of cavalry under his command including the renowned, but depleted, Polish division and that of General Kellerman, although Kellerman himself was sick at this time. The artillery was placed on Gallows hill as the enemy approached.

That enemy was General Wittgenstein, who assumed that Murat's forces were a mere rearguard poised to hold up the advance of the Prussians, Russians and Austrians all under his command, as a vanguard they were also heavy on horsemen and what would follow on the 14th October, a day that began cold and foggy, was the largest cavalry battle of the age, or indeed any!

First to meet were the Grodno Hussars and French dragoons, veterans of Spain, an account left by a Russian officer describes the hussars charging home, all eager to break French skulls and indeed the dragoons fell back but in good close order so that the hussars switched to firing pistols into the closing ranks as they could otherwise not get amongst the foe, like many a scene that day it devolved into a swirl of horses and individual combats, kill or be killed! 

Waves of cavalry met on the open plain, it was good country for it although the rains had made the ground very soft and any stream had risen to its banks, as the day grew warmer the particularly muddy ground could slow down a cavalry charge.

The Marshal was in the thick of it, almost captured at least twice including a famous incident where a Prussian officer came within a lances length of Murat and called for his surrender as he spurred forward to deliver a sabre cut.. but one of Murat's staff fired a pistol into the Prussian officer and the blow never landed.

The initial melees seemed a stalemate, the French actually had greater numbers but their steeds were often in poorer condition. Then a massed attack was formed from the French centre, described by one Russian adjutant, Molostov:

'All shrank back from this glistening vision which embodied for us the magic that surrounded Napoleon's brows. The mass of riders, with the sun glancing from their weapons and helmets, formed one huge endless column which crushed all before it and hit the Prussians particularly hard.'

But the great column was outflanked on left and right and struck with fire from the enemy horse artillery.. together these threats brought the assault to a faltering halt, and then the Russian and Prussian horse counter attacked. Pushed back the village of Leibervolkwitz was captured by the  Erzherzog Karl (Austrian) infantry regiment after a gruelling two hour battle with Maison's 16th division. Losing ground Gallows hill with its commanding artillery position also had to be abandoned or be cut off.

Maybe Murat should have withdrawn then, having given a halting blow and still holding the part of his original position that barred the way to Leipzig. But the flamboyant Marshal called up another attack and the surprised allies fell back. Liebervolkwitz was recaptured at the bayonet and the last Austrians held out, defending the Church until they died almost to a man.

At around six o'clock Prince Schwarzenburg arrived and ordered no more attacks that day.

Who won the battle is still debated today, it is at best a stand off. Murat still held the important approaches to Markkleeburg and the city but he had squandered much of the cavalry whose horses were hard to replace and Napoleon's cavalry would continue to suffer without the ability to follow up any victory like in the grand old days. What is sure is many a cavalryman dinned off his exploits that day for many years to come!
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Ickworth!

The 7/8 of June saw a return to the grounds of Ickworth house, usually synonymous with chilly nights this one saw very hot days instead.
First off.. drum roll.. for our very much loved Serge Dubonnet (nee Stuart) whom in the presence of the Emporer was promoted to Sergeant! Very well deserved indeed.

Also one of our new recruits, Duncan, acquitted himself well and received.. a pull on the ear! 

It seems some sporting event on the Saturday may have lowered the turn out both of public and troops but it did mean the skirmishing could go off piste and let it's hair down, fighting up a slope of tall grass and firing off a lot of shots en tirailleur.

Seeing the day was lost one of the more capable British officers sees the colours are secured.

The evening was quite fruity in camp with Phil impressing everyone with his tequila sunrise.

Sunday further demonstated that It's a hard life serving the Emporer. ZzzZzZzZz.

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Pauline Foures.

Napoleon's Cleopatra!  Like the Emporers other famous mistress Marie Waleska, there are many tales and as many opinions on the ladies life and motives but for the sake of number one fan girl, Carolyn Tobin, we shall try to be kind! 

Pauline was the daughter of a clockmaker and resided in the South of France, born in 1778. It was there she met and fell for a wounded soldier, Jean Fourés, who had been fighting in the Pyrenees. No sooner were they married as her husband was summoned to take part in the Egyptian campaign but not to be parted (and women banned from boarding ship) she disguised herself as a hussar (or more likely a chasseur as her husband doubtless had more access to such  a uniform) and remained incognito for the whole 54 days of the voyage, only donning civilian clothes again in Cairo where she soon became popular in society and enlivened many a dinner party or soiree.

Napoleon at this time had finally accepted the fact that Josephine was carrying on an affair and was reportedly in the mood to throw himself into adultery with abandon, summoning six local girls for his inspection but liking none of them! Rubens cast offs he apparently exclaimed.

He had by now heard of this popular lady, Pauline, and when he saw her immediately planned his next conquest, but was rebuffed. Legend has it a certain Brigadier Lasalle (yes that one) got similar short shift.

What changed is not clear but poor, now Lieutenant, Jean-Noel Fourés found himself sent off to France with a message.

At a dinner party Napoleon was highly attentive and then, accidently or not, a jug of water got poured on Pauline and she had to retire to General Bonaparte's next door bedroom, he followed after and they spent some time doing the laundry. This sounds like Napoleon who also used to 'accidently' spill wine over dresses that Josephine bought if he didn't like them. 

Monsieur Foures however did not get far as his ship was intercepted and flew into a rage when he returned and found out the truth, this lead to a divorce. Although in the Simon Scarrow novel 'The generals' he rides into the desert and is never seen again.

For months the two were an item, living a life of banquets and requisition but when Napoleon had to return to France he seems to have left Pauline to General Kleber, whom shared in his lack of a proper goodbye. So the two took comfort in each other for a short time.

She returned to France but never saw Napoleon again, he though seems to have ensured that her two future husband's were always well appointed.

She voyaged to south America several times, partly to escape her second husband and traded in French made furniture and returning with exotic timber. She was also known as a passable painter and had three novels published.

In these later years she was still seen as scandalous, frequenting military clubs, smoking at the bedroom window and taking her dog into church. Her self portrait hangs in the national gallery in Paris under the name Madame de Rouchoup (her husband who had been a Captain in the Imperial guard, died in 1826) and art works she collected were donated to the gallery at Blois on her death in 1869, although she is probably still at a party somewhere.

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Rogues gallery.

Belgium, the start of the great paper plane war of 2018.

Caporal Tobin patrols the streets of Valetta.

Another event, another Frenchman in distress with his trousers.

The other Ickworth, the soggy one.

'you just can't get the staff these days!'

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Next newsletter probably end of season, late September, as usual message/e-mail/shout anything you might want in the next installment.   Rhandolph/Gandalf. 

SPRING 2018

     NEWSLETTER, Spring 2018.

A new season is upon us, with Malta and Quatra Bras looming large in our sites and Farnborough abbey and Hole park being big UK events. Everyone should have completed all their travel and registration details by now, if not you'd better act quick!

 

A write up of Ickworth was going to be the centre piece of this issue but alas this weekend was cancelled due to flooding at the site (pictured above), so you will have to make do with some off season events and promises of things to come and a warm welcome to all our new members! and note I've been having a few formatting problems so forgive any odd spaces on these pages.


Congratulations must go out to Darren and Kat for their up and coming wedding, What a fantastic couple!

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Training day and Drill school

Coinciding with Worcester reneactors weekend many of the 45e went through the paces, brushing off the cobwebs of winter and getting into step. Left foot forward!

Hard at work.

Then it was officers and NCOs at the ecole militaire converting French drill books into reality. Good luck with that!

"Non, on page 211 it says 3.5 paces adroit!"

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Davide of Basingstoke.

One of our long serving and much loved Soldats passed away recently, David Willian Horn, and was laid to rest at the beginning of March.

20th June 1951 - 12th February 2018.

Stories of Dave will doubtless be told as long as the 45eme are still marching. I was enthralled to find out that in his pre-re-enactment days our esteemed Captain Miles once met a smartly dressed young member of the Imperial guard standing to attention and deftly fielding questions from the public such as Duncan saying 'So what is this re-enactment business all about?'.. that smart young man was Davide. He obviously felt more at home and relaxed in the 45eme and his faded orange trousers and bicorne became an image his friends will hold dear! One of my last memories of him was from Waterloo 2015, many ended up in the first aid tent and Davide was amongst them with heat exhaustion.. within and hour of that he was back in camp toasting the Emporer with mandarin brandy!  What a legend.

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   The second battle of Leipzig, in Reading 2018!

The idea of an off season day of wargaming had been mooted since the year before but finally came about in January. Generals Bradshaw and Irwin commanding the French forces against Generals Stearman, Groves and Dubonnet forming the alliance of nations, mainly Russian, Austrian and Prussian respectively.

First time commanding General Von Debonnet considers his orders, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. Phil Timm, local man, also popped by to cheer on the action.

The game flowed quicker than I expected with most loses being in the cavalry as sabres clashed and lances dipped, but time would still run short before a definite result could be confirmed, although it was generally agreed that the French position at close of play looked a bit more doubtful with one contingent outflanked on a hill outside Leipzig and Russian grenadiers closing fast on the gates of the city.

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   Napoleon III.

With the 45eme set to march at Farnborough abbey with its connection to the Napoleon dynasty in the form of Napoleon III having retired and later died near there, I thought it prudent to produce a Napoleon III for dummies article so that we might bluff our way through any questions about 'The other Napoleon'.

Nephew of 'our Napoleon', when the year of revolutions came upon Europe in 1848 King Louis Phillipe I got the boot (and also moved to England and died) and the many factions vying for power came to realise they needed a president, and already on the political scene and of course associated with his glorious uncle, Louis Napoleon became the first president of France.

His effectiveness was mixed and technically you could not hold the post twice in succesion so four years later the legislative assembly declared he could not stand for the presidency again, so he staged a coup d'état and then declared himself Emporer, to avoid accusations of tyranny he held a referendum to see if the people supported him and the vote was overwhelming YES. Many say too much yes and doubt about the results has been a long standing controversy.

 Censorship and arrest of political opponents followed which would have seen him remembered badly but he swung the other way, re-designed Paris into what it is today, boosted French industry, trade and railroads and had the French maritime fleet hugely expanded, allowed workers to strike and made many liberal reforms,the prisoners were released although censorship still remained.

Most scholars maintain that his weakness was foreign policy, he committed France to the Crimean war and the war in Italy, being on the winning side against two of those nations who had humiliated France in 1814/15 (Russia and Austria, if only he could trounce Prussia!) however neither of these military campaigns attracted the same glory as those of the first Empire. He expanded the Empire in north Africa and backed an expedition to Mexico which all went wrong.

The Franco-Prussian war.

The downfall of Napoleon III was Prussia. The country had come to dominate Germany (especially after defeating Austria in 1866) and there was much friction between the nations. When the heir to the Spanish throne died one candidate put forward was a relative of the king of Prussia, France would not tolerate a Prussian friendly Spain on their South/west border. The candidate was actually not interested at all but a meeting was held between King Frederick and a French diplomat, Count Benedetti, which ended well.. However here enters the infamous Emms telegram which the King sent to Bismarck, who changed the wording and leaked it to the press, it was now a different account of the meeting that suggested the French ambassador had been told to piss off. This infuriated the French press and public and there were calls for war. France declared war on July 19.

Mobilisation was a complete muddle, men from one area were often directed to another to form up and by the time they arrived their regiment had already left for the border somewhere, France was covered in dribs and drabs of troops. The French crossed the border into German territory but communications were poor, armies did not know where the other armies were, or where the Germans were. I say Germans not Prussians because as planned by Bismarck with France declaring war and appearing the aggressor the other German states such as Bavaria, Saxony and Wurtemburg backed Prussia whom many had opposed in the war of 1866 with Austria.

Basically the rest of the war was a tail of retreat by the French, with no significant victories despite the fact the German forces often suffered far more casualties. Cavalry charged to their deaths on both sides against rapid rifle fire and the French unveiled the Matrileuse, the world's first machine gun.

The classic battle saw the French defending a ridge or village and with the modern chassepot rifle they could easily outrange and outfire the Prussian rifles, at Gravelotte the Prussians took 4000 casualties in twenty minutes! but as often happened the French will broke and they quit the field when a counter attack might have won the day.

If the French had a superior rifle the Prussians had superior artillery, breach loading Krupp guns were closer to something from world war one than Napoleon I whilst France had neglected updating her artillery and had guns that simply followed the same tactics as in 1815.

(Last year on the way back from an event I was curious as to what these very Imperial looking emblems at Farnborough station were (pictured right), they are of course there to highlight the Napoleonic connections.)

At Sedan the main French army and Napoleon III were surrounded and captured. The war went on for nearly another year under a provisional Government with France summoning every man to fight including divisions of sailors and Franc-tireurs, armed civilians, but Paris was soon under siege leading to the Paris commune and effectively a civil war as the Paris national guard demanded a new Government, the existing government sent troops to crush the uprising but most of the troops refused to fight the militant civilians. Ironically the Prussians are credited with helping Parisians escape from the city where starvation was setting in. The government army attacked and carried the day in the end, the communards making a last stand in a cemetery.

Following the war Germany became a unified nation under Prussian hegemony.

So our Napoleon III ended up abdicating and removed himself from France to England, Chislehurst in the end after a sojourn in Brighton and Cowes, in the end Napoleon, already in poor health, had an operation for bladder stones, it went badly and he died in 1873. In 1887 his remains are moved to Farnborough abbey.

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  Home.

'Don't look at them, don't look at them,' Adrienne Charmond chided himself 'just keep loading.' and with that he swung the heavy Charleville musket round from his hip, wheeling at the same time as his feet formed a tee and the musket butt slammed into the dry Spanish soil by his left foot. 'le cartouche dans le cannon.' He fondled for the ram rod, tweeking it a few inches up from the barrel then running it out between thumb and forefinger. For a moment he looked ahead and saw the serried ranks of brown coated enemies, dusky faces beneath broad bicornes, as one their own muskets swung down to bare on him, at thirty yards, it was exactly the moment he didn't want to see. He tore his eyes away and rammed home the baguette, already moving to clear it from the barrel with that awkward twirl, 'Why not just use the other end?' he thought for the hundredth time. Then came the volley and his dirty hands clenched white for an instant. A miss, nothing had hit him. He would live for at least another half a minute.

The ranks around him shuffled as loaded muskets were swung up to shoulders, the watchful eyes of the Officer and NCOs noting the lines were ready to fire, or appeared so. A sword swept up, the drums rattled. Chamond went to firing position, the barrel of his musket dipping low under its own weight then rising up, steady, roughly aligned with the chest of a moustachioed man opposite, himself hurrying to load.
"Feuer!"
He pushed the musket a fraction away from him, his right eye partially closed in anticipation of the barrel now besides his head being about to flare. He pulled the trigger, crack, a ripple of fire and smoke. Sparks from his neighbours pan burnt his cheek but there was no time to blink as the order to bare the musket up, to wait for the satisfying silence of a volley well delivered. then "Chargez!" the process began again. He reached to his giberne, clawing for another cartridge even as the musket was brought back to his hip, slanted forwards.
He never saw the enemy volley this time, just heard the staggered retort and suddenly his leg trembled and shook with one burning spot about a span above his right knee. Calmly he continued loading, this was not sang froid but denial, he didn't want to know what had happened. How bad was it? Don't look. He could not look at the enemy and he could not look at his leg. his whole world was concentrated on the pan of his musket. He shifted his feet once more into the tee, causing a rush of warmth below his knee. Blood leaking down to his gaiter top. He winced and staggered, forcing himself upright.
Instead of an order to fire came 'A demi-turn adroit!' and he pressed his giberne close to his hip and swivelled the musket, lock inwards. The whole company turned on the spot. Except him. He was lying on the ground now. confused. The company were marching away. He shouted an incoherrant noise. He looked about him as a sleeper just awakened. His leg was darkening crimson from thigh to knee. The brown ranks of the Spanish were veiled by their own smoke. horsemen in wide brimmed hats and carrying cruel lances emerged on their flank, irregular troops, partisans? Don't let there be partisans or looters. He didn't want to be captured and skinned alive. He rolled awkwardly over and tried crawling back to the French line. He saw the green and grey of some German battalion behind him now. Where were his battalion? his company? his pelaton? his friends? Panic rose within him. His head swam. The pain in his leg flared and then there was nothing at all.


He was struggling to cross a river but the soft mud beneath his feet betrayed him, he floundered, he could see a house on the river bank, it was his house. No, it was the house of his childhood. Soft voices floated across to him, his mother? so far away, how could he hear a voice that was little more than a whisper from so far away? The voice grew deeper, he swallowed muddied river water, it burnt his throat. He choked. The grey heavens were suddenly pieced with white light. The voice grew familiar, not his mother. It was his friend,  Declarey. His eyes were open. Brandy. not water.
He was alive, head on his pack in a bustling camp. His friend was feeding him brandy with a soup spoon. He moved to look around. pain flared in his leg beneath the blanket.
"Don't worry, the ball went clean through, missed the bone. We didn't take you to a surgeon incase they whipped it off but Delzons, the old butcher, had a good look."
Chamond relaxed. He was alive, and back amongst wood smoke and thin soup, back in the company.
He was home.


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   Rogues gallery!

Horsham museum 2015

Clearly somewhere that's been hot, but typically of an event the cloth bungs in the musket barrels suggest rain on the day!

Breakfast somewhere damp!

Davide!

Next newsletter will be due about June, probably after Malta, as usual feel free to send any articles or news items you might want included. Vive le 45eme!

Late Summer newsletter 2017

General news and events.

This was almost the end of season newsletter as owing to several factors there were no events planned for September or October, however as of yesterday an event may be taking place at Stanford hall near Rugby on 7th and 8th of October, please respond to Duncan to let him know if you can make it if you have not done so already.

Of course we do also have some brave Soldats still off to France shortly for the campaign weekend at Le Bossieres ecole.

The big foreign events of next year are already being talked about being Quatre Bra on 19-20 May and a four day event in Malta soon after.

The Napoleonic association has a new, improved website coming along at www.napoleonicassociation.org repleat with more of our regular dates such as:

           7-8  April                   Ickworth House.

1-2  September           Hole Park

Also listed is a light division and rifles day on 16 June and the Siege of Astorga on 28-30 September although whether the 45eme will be involved in these is not yet known and will doubtless be discussed at the AGM.

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    ------------------ MARENGO ---------------------

It was only right that an epic voyage brought those members of the 45eme attending Marengo 2017 to the famous battlefield. Across France and via Mount Blanc into Italy from there the path of the French forces in 1800 was followed, and it often looked an arduous path for those in cars on modern roads much less men and horses pulling artillery and wagons and trudging for leagues on end often in broken shoes. We passed Fort Bard, the scene of a siege, leaving the mountains behind and forging onto the open plains.

Campsite was just on the edge of Marengo town (village?) And within walking distance. The local people were welcoming and not really being on the tourist map were delighted to have soldats frequenting their bars and pizzeria.

The iconic tower just behind where the museum now stands and which seems to feature in most paintings of the battle. It always gives me pause to wonder what occurred on the spot Im standing on when I come across recognisable sites.

           

The Austrians were a fine bunch mainly from the old 'Hungarian' half of the Habsburg empire, the largest group being Croats and Czechs, and including some Uhlans, one of whom boldly thundered around the French camp waving their standard, but being met with more phone cameras than muskets.

                      Lean, mean, and ready to push the Austrian's out of town at the point of the bayonet as the sunsets on the opening  skirmish.

The battle was in a rectangliar cornfield running out of town and our advance was put to a halt and pushed back, wavering as we left the field.. only to return in the guise of Desaix's corp and then the boot was on the other foot.

The high temperatures and dry corn meant no paper was being rammed home less pieves off it started a fire, and several times members of the artillery crew were seen running forward to stamp out smouldering embers before they could catch light.

Form square! as with many things that weekend what had been born in confusion all came together when it was actually needed.

The victorious French were glad to see the lovely water bearers appear at the close of such a hard days marching and fighting. (or at least forty five minutes of it). 

So a great time was had by all and it was agreed that it would be good to come back to Italy for more early battles in future, and more pizza and more ice cream.  Ciao!

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      Napoleon the Great.

         By Andrew Roberts.

It is said that more books have been written about Napoleon than any other historical figure, so is another biography really needed?

I had first come across the author on YouTube on a televised debate on whether the famous Corsican should be awarded the title of 'Napoleon the great' or not and arrayed against a fellow historian who represented the no camp.

I therefore expected the book to be a gushing torrent of Bonapartism but it is infact still capable of criticism and refection on the difficult decisions the Emporer often faced.

As an English language work it is still probably the most pro-Napoleon and strives to address some of the common criticisms aired, particularly about his seeming indifference to the cost of his campaigns on human life, and French ones at that, and also the Russian question.. why did he go so far? The writing puts you in his position and you have to ponder 'Maybe I would have gone to Moscow if you put it like that..?

One of Robert's prime sources are Napoleon's own letters to various people, many to Josephine, and are often quoted in defence of his decisions or to illuminate his state of mind.

The writing style is quite flowing, occasionally distracted, but not dry. At the end of the day 'Napoleon the great' is another biography but if you must chose one this wouldn't be a bad choice as an up to date assesment of the man and his mark on history.

Incidentally the live audience voted 'No' to granting Napoleon the title of 'The great', maybe they should have read this book first.

       'Wellington's hidden Heroes'

          The Dutch-Belgians in the Waterloo campaign by Veronica Baker-Smith.

                                                 

More so than the Prussians the contribution to the Waterloo campaign by the Dutch-Belgians is often overlooked, underplayed and even wrongly reported in many English language works, largely because the same written accounts from British officers have been quoted and echoed down the years. Officers who wished to find scapegoats, elevate themselves or just repeat rumours about allied troops.

This book is a potted history of the hundred days from a Dutch-Belgium perspective using multiple sources, reports and eye witness accounts, including French accounts which are often more favourable to the Dutch than the British ones.

The writing is easy to follow and often anecdotal and as a fairly leisurely reader I managed to finish this off over a long weekend.

Baker-Smith relates the performance of the Dutch-Belgians from the highest strategic organisation down to the man in the field, for instance the young army had been equipped with both French and English bore muskets leading to supply problems, the Dutch (including Nassau) troops who held Quatra Bras until British came up having exhausted their ammunition by the 16th. Yet still got booed for leaving by the British as the bloodied troops were ordered back.

The Prince of Orange gets a chapter to himself and whilst mistakes on his part are indeed admitted they are put in context. Incidentally he went to a Prussian military accedemy and the notion that he attended Eton seems an invention of Bernard Cornwell.

If you have an interest in the Netherlands forces in 1815 this is certainly a book for you. I have had to resist repeating many incidents that this book details just writing this. Recommended.

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           SPETCHLEY.

The annual M5 show, known to most of us as Spetchley, kicked off with quite a French presence amongst the historical encampments from Plato to NATO, all of whom could be found in the 1940s themed bar at some stage.

Each days battle went quite well, naturally with the French side victorious on day one and again on Sunday when the lines of the blue and the red (and green) soon closed, but the enthused British seemed to have driven the gallant 21eme somewhat back and so the 45e and Genie comrades had to skirmish and wheel and fire to maintain the field as well as they did.

Saturday was strangely quiet crowdwise but more than made for by the numbers coming in on Sunday and venturing around the camp and despite the clouds the weather mercifully kept off with the rain.

We had some guests in our ranks for the weekend who had such a good time they might hopefully be coming back for more in future. The evening were as lively as ever with a good outbreak of singing. 

See you next year.

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Jean-Baptiste Kléber!

General Kleber will always be associated with his service in Eygpt and sadly his some would say abandonment by Napoleon and subsequent efforts to maintain a functioning French army in Eygpt until an assassin ended his life.

47 years earlier (1753) he had been born in Strasbourg, his father a professional builder and mason, and he served briefly in a hussar regiment before leaving to study architecture for four years. His military career made another start when he helped two German (probably Bavarian) officers out when they became embroiled in a tavern brawl so it is likely the hussar spirit still burnt in Kleber's breast, in gratitude the German nobles offered him a place ay the military school in Munich and he thereafter served in the war of the Bavarian succesion but only in garrison posts and he once again resigned as his prospects of promotion were low indeed.

Back in France the revolution and his military experience saw him soon promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel and he fought in the disaster at Mainz, however he was one of the few who came out with good credit and was duely promoted General before further success fighting the royalists in the Vendee and then in the German campaign.

The Kleber uniform.

Offered a higher command he declined and seemingly retired to private life until called for by Napoleon himself to join the campaign in Eygpt. Shot in the head early on he missed the battle of the pyramids but later in independant command won the battle of mount Tabor.

It was at this stage that Napoleon left for France, allegedly only informing the new commander after he had left to which he responded 'Well, he's left us in the shit.'

It was Klebers unglamouous job to deal with Commodore Sydney Smith in attaining terms of surrender, he must have done well for the French forces were promised that they could retire bearing arms and with full honours. Smith never kept his word and this soon was apparent so that the French were forced to stave off the Turks, fighting against six times there number and winning at the battle of Heliopolis before re-taking Cairo. His name also became synonymous with 'The Kleber ordinance' a red uniform (mostly in Eygpt) featuring a tarleton style helmet. 

Sadly it was in the wake of these victories that the student Soleyman El-Halaby, knifed Kleber as he walked in the city gardens. The assasin was executed and his skull sent to France to be studied by medical students.

Kleber was very much the republican and died the same day as his friend Desaix, at Marengo, both were keen republicans and clung to the ideals of an age that was fast slipping away as Napoleon would soon be the one true power in France, infact Napoleon feared his tomb would be a shrine of republicanism and instead of returning the body to France had it entombed on a small island off the coast. Kleber was also a keen freemason which might seem odd today for a fiery republican but masonry was still regarded as a brotherly society for the advancement of enlightenment, charity and learning. He founded the Isis lodge in Cairo which is still there today. 

Also still there today is a statue of the man in his native Strasbourg and some building designed by him. Kléber actually used his study of architecture to good use in several posts between commisions and his work survives in as diverse places as the chateau of Granvillar, houses attached to an abbey and in a hospital that was instead used for administration and is now the town hall in Thann (above).

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Rogues gallery.

                     Somewhere in the mountains Corporal Flapjaques calls out

              'By the power of Greyskull!

Sergeant Lawrence plays his cards right at Cannon hall.

General Sparky at Marengo.

Fratenisation at Basing House.

                                                       Tambour Alex leads the way at Spetchley.

                                                We all scream for Ice cream in Eastbourne.

                                                Napoleon does not know which way to go, until....

                                         He arrives at the Marvelous Festival, and is cross.

There will probably be a modest newsletter around new year when details of the AGM are announced, the wargamers of the 45eme hope to get some games in over the winter, hopefully including the big Liepzig game mooted for last year and who knows maybe some appropriate cultural outing will crop up. As usual feel free to send in any news or articles, until then Adieu!