La Chanson de la Victoire (The Song of Victory): La Petite Arpenteuse (Non, SV, you are a General of France in the Napoleonic War!)

Alright, so I think I got a good plot for Hercule the Bear, hopefully you guys like it.

Be like Hercule!

"Come on men, you call that a battle cry! How do you expect to terrify the enemy with that whimper!"

For the past day, Durand has been hard at work turning the recruits that General Bonaparte and Auclair threatened into the army into a true fighting force, and it has not been an easy time. Where was their Elan?! Where was their spirit?! If they can't even do a battle cry, how can they expect to actually fight?

"If I can be honest sir, that's the best we can do. Perhaps you can give us a demonstration of a proper battle cry?" Was the response of one of the men he was training.

Ah, that was a good idea, show them what a real battle cry sounds like. He had in mind someone who can demonstrate that.

"Hercule! Come here."

Hercule was the unofficial pet of the Army of the Vendee. Quite the sight it was, seeing a bear in the army camps, and more than a few of the newer recruits were scared of Hercule, yet it was truly beloved by the original members of the army. Most of his skeptics thought that Hercule would just go through their supplies, it was a big animal, and it would need to eat a lot, but it had proven itself more than worthy of being there, having the strength of more than any of them made him good for carrying artillery when it was properly trained. Hercule was almost human, it drank, it smoked cigarettes, slept in the tents with the soldiers, wrestled, and won most of the time since it was a bear, and to be honest, bathed more often than the soldiers, leaving it with a better sense of hygiene than most people in the camps.

At the sound of his name, Hercule hurriedly went over to Sergeant Durand, and affectionately sniffed at him, with Sergeant Durand responding in kind by giving him a kind rub on the neck, which made Hercule quite happy, kicking one of his feet in delight.

"Now, Hercule." He said to the bear, whom he was still rubbing on the neck, "I need you to show your elan. Roar for us." He then gave an imitation of a roar, complete with claw fingers, even showing off his battle cry, "VIVA LA FRANCE!!" hoping the bear would understand him.

After a while, and after he finished rubbing Hercule in the neck, it seemed to have understood what he meant, and gave of a ferocious "ROOOAAAAARRRRRR!!"

For most people, the sound of a roaring bear would be utterly terrifying, yet for Sergeant Pierre Antoine Durand, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Yes! Yes! That's it! That's the battle cry I long for!" He shouted out in joy. Finally! A soldier with a proper sense of elan! Who knew the only one with a proper sense of it would be a bear?

He then turned back to his soldiers, who were staring at the scene in front of them, still somewhat bewildered and scared at the thought of a giant brown bear in the camp with them, much less the officers treating it like it was a dog.

"Be more like Hercule here!" He gestured over to the bear next to him, "This bear has the elan you lack!" He shouted to the poor bewildered soldiers in front of him, who never thought they would ever be compared with a bear over their elan.

"Sir, are you seriously comparing us to a bear? If we tried to roar like him, we'd lose our vocal chords!" One of the soldiers shouted incredulously.

"Better no roar at all than to have the roar of a coward!" Was the response they got.

So for almost the entire day, the soldiers were forced to do their best imitating the roar of their pet bear, while said pet bear was showered in drinks, pets and praise.

La Chanson: Generations

Twenty-five thousand recruits. It was a mind-boggling number on the best of days. The number of new recruits brought in by the levee en masse nearly equaled the number of fighting men already a part of L'armee du Rhin. The monumental task of outfitting, bivouacking and feeding these recruits fell on the shoulders of Captains Denis Severin and Claude de Lisle. The latter the purchase and procurement of supplies, while the former, the distribution and allotment of said supplies. Severin was in the process of establishing the recruits into new companies, the prospect of slow, methodical training all but decided among the staff officers of L'armee du Rhin. "T'wouldn't do for the new recruits deserting back to their farms within the first week, after all," was Severin's council. In spite of his advocacy for methodical training, Severin desired little more than to come to grips with the enemy and face him in battle. The fighting at Amiens had little he could directly contribute to, and the last real action he had seen was at Mainz back in April.

The rapid establishment of new companies, battalions and regiments required the stripping of sergeants and corporals from existing units to use as training cadres for the new formations. The established, veteran units of L'armee du Rhin would have to adjust and elevate new non-commissioned officers from the private soldiery, as fresh recruits also filled in losses from battle and transfers. Severin had just seen to the equipage of the latest company of the newly stood-up line infantry regiment when he was hailed by a runner from the gates, informing him of a visitor with cargo.

Marching to said gate, Captain Severin quickly confirmed the identity of the visitor and had him and his cargo waved through security. Personally escorting the wagon to the camp's arsenal, the captain finally greeted the guest in a energetic exchange of manly hugs and shoulder claps.

"It has been quite a few months since I've seen you in person, Father. Welcome to the Metz camp of L'armee du Rhin. We've just gotten a new influx of conscripts from the levee en masse issued by Paris. How was the journey from Biffontaine?"

"Denis Martin, my son! God's blessings be upon you, and are those some new scars I espy? I'm sure your wife shall find them charming indeed once she claps eyes upon you once more. As to the journey, there was some rough going in the Vosges, what with the early melt causing a few minor landslides in the passes. Not much of an issue once I reached St. Die and caught a barge down the Meurthe. And you, an officer! None of our blood have risen to be a commissioned officer in our extensive records. You've surpassed not only my rank but that of your fool elder brother! Now, boy, where are we headed in this fine army camp? I find myself both nostalgic yet glad of my retirement."

"We make for the camp arsenal, such as it is. 'Tis the domain of Capitan de Lisle, an artilleryman and songwriter. He wrote a glorious war song for our army, and has been, er, working, on new songs of our glories at Mayence and Amiens. Just don't ask him to sing; the poor man has not a singing voice, but the clarion call of the Devil's legions."

"Aye, a good marching song can keep an army at a double pace for quite the trek. And you wrote that you got the bulk of your army to Mayence within eight days? With cannon? Not too shabby for a scratch force scraped together out of frontier militia. Good work, my boy."

"I cannot take full credit. Colonel Chamans ensured the roads were clear of partisans and good for travel, and La Generale kept the men to a good pace. I merely had to dissuade some complainers along the way."

"And Mayence, the fighting there had been short but intense, was the word on the road over."

"We had week to prepare and survey the ground. La Generale is known as La Petit Arpenteuse for a reason, and we had time for some fairly elaborate earthworks around the bridges. Chamans was able to do quite a bit of damage with a cavalry raid, and the Prussians made separate attacks at the bridges north and south of the city. La Generale repulsed the northern push with minor casualties, while in the south, the Prussians made decent headway against my force. It was only with a last-second countercharge that we were able to rout the Prussians, while they had nearly gained the bridge. It was... Gå–På at a heightened tempo. Then, we formed up on the western bank and forced the reforming Prussians to give battle. The fighting was a fairly equal exchange of fire and melee, but I was able to march my battalion at barely arms' reach and wheel on the Prussian flank with fire and steel. At that point, the Prussians lost the will to fight. We released the prisoners and released the Prussian commanders on one years' parole. Last I heard, Duke Brunswick lost his position at the head of the Prussian military over the disgrace."

"Hah! That'll do it! The line of Severin has been fighting the Prussians through the ages. Our bloodline carried a grudge through the generations, stretching back to my grandfather for the defeat at Malplaquet. The honorable service of my father, and now you, my son, has wiped that grudge clean. Now, tell me of Amiens."

"Yes, La Generale was returning from Paris with her wards, following some business in the capital, and she rode directly to Amiens in response to the collapse of the front of in the Netherlands. Upon receiving her dispatch, we led the majority of the army to Amiens to stabilize the front, and our cavalry and chasseurs were able to put the Hapsburg and Dutch to flight with a night raid, though the main body of the infantry did not arrive until after dusk. By morning, the front had stabilized and new formations of conscripts were streaming into Amiens, so we returned to Metz to keep watch on the Rhine frontier. With the levee en masse, that brings us to the present."

"Ah, you have succeeded beyond the family's wildest dreams, my son! With your success and your elder brother's foolish actions, you shall be the one to carry the name Severin into the future, in service to France. Viva la France!"

Upon hearing the elder Severin's patriotic cry, the nearby men also take up the call, with cries of "Viva la France!" making an echoing ripple throughout the camp. As the pair near the arsenal, Captain Severin calls for an armorer and gunsmiths to remand the contents of the wagon into their custody.

"Also, father, you never mentioned the details of this... Puckle Gun. What makes it such an extraordinary weapon?" Captain Severin inquires, with the armorers and gunsmiths carefully unpacking the wagon, but leaving an ear open to listen.

"My son, according to the papers that came with the gun, it was meant for all manner of roles, but primarily intended to suppress pirates off the Horn of Africa. Their small, swift boats prey on shipping, and thus a smaller, repeating light cannon to deal with them. Allegedly, this Lawyer Puckle was able to demonstrate the cannon firing 63 shots in nine minutes! Nine shots per minute! Imagine a battery of such guns! The manual demonstrates how to rotate the chambers, and this bit of metal removes the touch pan cap and exposes it to the flintlock mechanism. Crank the handle tight to establish a gas seal, fire, crank back and spin to the next chamber. The only issue I can see is setting it up in the field. Since it was meant as a deck gun, the tripod was as much a fixture, but it can be folded and carried. Not quite as quick to emplace as a field gun, but if you set it up in an armored wagon like the Hussites in the Thirty Years' War, you can avoid most of the issue and have a mobile, elevated firing position."

The elder Severin speaks on about further applications, debating with the armorers and gunsmiths about the Puckle Gun's employment, maintenance, and reproducibility, while Captain Severin absorbs the artillery knowledge and expertise being bandied about. All told, a rather unusual day in the camp of L'armee du Rhin.