I transmigrated as a french soldier during XVIIIth century

The temperatures had been steadily dropping day by day and week by week. They finally plummeted sharply at the beginning of December.

Adam had never been this cold in his entire life—well, in his previous life, of course. Thankfully, he no longer slept in a tent but in a house in Magdeburg. Despite the impressively thick walls and the number of blankets, he still felt a bit cold at night. It was much better, however, than sleeping outside. He would have frozen to death long ago along with the rest of Richelieu's army.

The army had spread out somewhat to better control the vast occupied territory. Part of it was stationed in this city, a few thousand more to the east in Halberstadt, some in Brunswick and Hanover, in Minden, or further north in Bremen, Celle, and Nienburg.

Prince de Soubise, like General Hildburghausen, had done the same as Marshal-Duke of Richelieu to spend the winter in peace. They occupied towns and villages further south between Gotha and Leipzig, including Erfurt, Naumburg, and Weißenfels.

Since there were at least a thousand armed men in each of these towns, up to ten thousand in the larger cities, the enemies of France, the Holy Roman Empire, and Austria dared not approach.

Yet, despite the season and the presence of so many soldiers, this December was not calm.

While negotiations had begun to sign a peace treaty, small autonomous groups were attacking patrols and killing their men before stripping them of their belongings. Often, these brutes went further by desecrating the corpses. The officers were naturally furious but couldn’t eliminate all of them.

Sometimes they managed to catch one of these groups, and then they could avenge their comrades, but this was quite rare.

The air was freezing that morning, so much so that with every breath Adam took, a large white plume formed in front of his face. The grass was as white as his coat, and a thin layer of ice had formed on the surface of every puddle.

I wonder if it’s going to snow? Adam thought as he looked at the gray sky stretching to the horizon.

A light breeze whistled through the branches of the trees lining the road he and his squad were following, shaking the few remaining dead leaves.

To think it’s already December. In twenty days, it’s Christmas. That’s crazy.

At this thought, his heart tightened. It was a time of year he loved. Around this time, his father would decorate the living room with garlands and colorful baubles. Almost at the last minute, his mother would be in the kitchen preparing a good meal and a chocolate yule log, while his sister would be trying to put a cute costume on Plume, their overweight cat. As for him, he’d still be out shopping, looking for an original gift for them.

But the atmosphere here was anything but festive, quite the opposite. Everyone wore very serious expressions.

He wasn’t in command of this squad of about ten people since among them was a sergeant named Michel Leclerc. He was a fairly experienced man who had been serving in the king's armies since 1751, so like Adam, he was experiencing war for the first time. Though he was quite short, his arms were powerful. Adam had seen him defeat Jean in an arm-wrestling match one evening, with the prize being a bottle of Italian wine.

The patrol advanced slowly, cautiously, along a deserted country road about twenty kilometers northwest of Magdeburg, leading straight to Hanover and Brunswick. Everyone was quite tense because for some time now, patrols and convoys had been targeted by what remained of Frederick II's army.

The general’s orders were to patrol the roads and visit nearby villages to track down these groups and eliminate them.

Adam walked in the middle of his comrades, with Sergeant Leclerc leading the way. Everyone was silent, focused on their surroundings. His long musket weighed heavily on his shoulder, and the cold December wind slyly slipped into his coat, which reeked of sweat.

It was the same one he wore in summer because the Ministry of War hadn’t deemed it necessary to design one coat for summer and another for winter. He had to come up with tricks, the first being to simply layer up under his red jacket, of which only the bottom was visible once his long coat was on.

The further they moved from Magdeburg, the more he felt his nervousness growing.

He quickened his pace, passing his comrades until he was level with his superior.

"Sergeant, maybe we should turn back here," he murmured so the others wouldn’t hear. "It’s too quiet. I don’t like it."

"Do you think I don’t want to, Corporal? If it were up to me, we would’ve turned back at Gutenswegen. But we have our orders and a route to follow. We’ll go as far as Hilden... uh, Holden... Whatever, we’ll go as far as our objective, check that everything’s fine, and then head back."

"Understood," Adam replied with a small sigh.

At least I’m not the only one who wants to go back. Just because nothing’s happened so far doesn’t mean nothing will happen later. I don’t know why, but I feel like we’re going to have trouble.

Fear was driving the men mad. Each thought they saw something in the woods surrounding the small, frozen dirt road. A creak, a movement. Adam was far from the only one fearing an enemy attack. The stories they had heard were chilling.

A loud creak was heard to the right, but again it was a false alarm. It was just two branches rubbing against each other in the wind.

Phew! It was nothing, haha! I got scared!

Everyone relaxed, and they resumed their march.

Suddenly, there was a crack. The tension within the group had barely had time to dissipate before it spiked again. This time, the noise seemed to come from the left. The men exchanged worried glances.

"What was that?" someone asked in a muffled, trembling voice.

Leclerc raised a hand for the group to stop and be quiet. Ten pairs of eyes scanned the woods for any suspicious movement. Time suddenly seemed to have stopped. Adam noticed he had stopped breathing.

A snowflake passed just below his eyes, tiny and fragile. Carried by a light breeze coming from the east, it fell slowly until it finally touched the cold ground, cold enough that it didn’t melt. Another snowflake then appeared in his field of vision, followed by many more.

Adam thought he saw a fleeting movement between the trees, so he readied his carefully maintained weapon. His stomach tightened when he saw a second movement.

"To arms!" the sergeant shouted at the same moment a gunshot rang out from among the trees.

Fuck! I knew it!

A French soldier collapsed on the road, his chest pierced by an enemy bullet.

"We’re under attack! Take positions!"

Defending themselves on such a narrow road surrounded by trees was the worst possible situation. The enemy had cover, while they had none. Back to back, the French soldiers covered each other, firing towards the plumes of white smoke that lingered where shots had been fired.

Several more shots rang out around them, forcing the French to tighten their formation until they formed a sort of circle.

"Argh!"

A cry echoed behind Adam. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the sergeant collapse.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Adam ordered. "Get off the road and take cover behind those trees!"

Without turning their backs on the enemy, the six remaining soldiers obeyed and positioned themselves behind the massive trunks of the large trees closest to the road.

"Do you see them?!"

"No, Corporal!" replied one of the soldiers, tall and thin as a branch. "Only the smoke!"

Shit! These fucking trees! If we were on different terrain…

Adam dared to look in the direction of the enemies and felt a bullet whiz past above his head. The enemy was very close, so close that they could have seen the color of their eyes if there hadn’t been so many obstacles between the two sides. Moreover, the snow had started falling heavily.

Terrified, the young corporal repositioned himself behind his tree, whose roots snaked between his legs.

Come on! Courage! One… Two… Three!

He emerged from his cover, pointed his weapon’s barrel in the direction of the enemy positions, and fired at a gray figure standing between two twisted trees. He didn’t stay to see it fall and quickly returned to his shelter. With a trembling hand, he placed his weapon on the ground and took a ready-made cartridge from his cartridge box, carefully stored for quick access.

The principle was roughly the same as modern bullets, except that the soldiers had to make them themselves. It was just a small paper tube containing black powder with a wad at one end and the projectile—a simple lead ball—at the other.

Like a well-oiled machine, the young man reloaded his weapon and stepped out of his cover to shoot again.

"Corporal! We need to retreat! There are too many of them!"

I know! Damn it, I know!

Even if he couldn’t see them, he knew the enemy had the advantage. Based on the gunshots, it could be deduced that there were at least twenty of them. Fixing bayonets and attempting to rout the enemy with a charge would be useless; worse, it could be fatal.

"We’re falling back! Maintain a line. Those on the sides fall back first!"

His voice sounded so hoarse to him that he had trouble recognizing it.

Gradually, his men retreated until only he and another soldier, who couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old, were left. The boy looked terrified, but he didn’t seem willing to leave.

"What are you still doing here?! Get the fuck out of here, moron!"

The young man, who hadn’t understood everything his corporal had just said, turned towards him with a fake smile.

"I can’t leave you to hold them off alone, Corporal! I’m going to help you!"

"Idiot!"

Even though he found it foolish for the boy to insist on staying in such a dangerous place, Adam couldn’t help but feel grateful, as he wasn’t too keen on staying alone to hold off twenty enemies.

"Okay, but don’t get yourself killed!"

Across from them, the Prussians finally realized that there were only two enemies left in front of them. They began to emerge from their hiding spots and advance. Adam and Augustin—that was the young man’s name—finished reloading their weapons at the same time and killed two enemies who were standing in the middle of the road. Like puppets whose strings had been cut, they collapsed onto the icy ground, which had started to turn white.

"We’ve held them off long enough. We’re retreating now!"

"Understood!" Augustin replied, nodding vigorously.

Adam and Augustin began to run, fleeing the bullets whizzing around them. Behind them, though neither of the young soldiers could say exactly how far away, German shouts echoed. The snow acted like a welcome screen, though the flakes weren’t dense enough to render them invisible.

His heart was pounding so hard that he could have sworn someone was playing a drum right next to his ears. The icy air filled his lungs, and branches whipped against his face. Passing through a thorny bush, he got scratched but completely ignored the pain.

A cry rang out near him, and he saw that Augustin had fallen.

Adam quickly went back and, without any delicacy, grabbed him by the arm to pull him to his feet. He was so forceful that the young man was lifted off the ground, which surprised even Adam.

They ran for a long time, unable to say how long, nor could they say how long that tiny skirmish had lasted. Around them, everything became eerily quiet. No one seemed to be pursuing them.

"D-do we… Did we lose them?"

"I-I think so, yes," Adam replied, drenched in sweat after such an intense effort.

Finally, they rejoined their comrades, who were waiting for them near a narrow road—actually the same one they had left, but which made a wide loop to connect to a hamlet with only a handful of houses.

"Is everyone alright?! How many of you are there?!"

"With you, there are six of us, Corporal," replied a soldier with a very ordinary face.

"Shit!"

"What about the sergeant and the others? We can’t just leave them there!"

"Calm down! We’ll go back to Magdeburg and make our report. The general will likely want to send a stronger unit with cavalry. The enemy will have had time to leave, and we’ll be able to recover our comrades’ bodies. Understood?"

"Y-yes!"

Demoralized, the French soldiers resumed their march under a heavy snowfall that lasted an hour, which was enough to radically change the landscape. Hardly any words were exchanged on the way back.

Once in Magdeburg, Augustin realized his ankle was twisted and swollen like a balloon. It was surprising, as he hadn’t complained once until then. Adam deduced that he had been so stressed that he simply hadn’t noticed the pain.

As Adam had guessed, the general sent an entire company to the site to retrieve the bodies and track down the Prussians. Unfortunately, with the fresh snow covering everything, it was impossible to locate the enemy or determine which direction they had gone.