Dawn's Candor

by Clarke Otterton

Chapter 5

Dawn’s detachment arrived at the edge of the battle within thirty minutes. She positioned her ponies behind the shelter of a hill and directed them to remain hidden. Grabbing Star and Belle, she scampered up the embankment to appraise the situation and determine how best to rejoin the battalion.

The scene unfolding in front of Dawn’s eyes was simultaneously glorious and horrific. Three companies from the 2nd battalion were arranged in close order on the field, forming three neat blocks of red that poked above the bush. Dawn pulled out her telescope and spotted a cluster of figures perched atop a small knoll behind the main line. She assumed them to be the battalion’s officers. She moved the glass over to where the blue and white silk of the Princesses’ Colors fluttered at the head of the center company. With each flag, hoof-touched by the dual monarchs before being presented to the battalion, went forth the driving force that was the magic of the unit’s spirit and pride. Except now these colorful symbols were being marched blindly into a slaughter.

The battalion’s objective appeared to be a long ridge that stretched low across the horizon. Each company advanced towards it with the same leap-frogging drill Dawn had seen in her first maneuvers. The puffs of white smoke that covered the red-clad ponies, followed by the delayed crackle of musketry, rippled through each company with practiced regularity. The soldiers were skilled, each pair going through the motions of load, present, fire, switch, and repeat. Dawn glanced at her watch and timed the battalion’s rate of fire at five rounds a minute.

But she could not see the effects of their fire along the ridge, which she noted was oddly devoid of smoke. She twisted her telescope further to adjust the focus and swept it along the ridgeline where small specks of color and dark lines indicated where the enemy sat pointing rifles down on the advancing battalion from the concealment of a ditch. The single, sharp cracks between volleys and growing collection of lifeless forms behind the battalion told Dawn that the enemy was indeed firing, and, based on the absence of white smoke, with the new style of rifles Dawn’s ponies had been issued, but the battalion had not. The weapons were effective. Dawn felt an urge to empty her stomach.

“Lieutenant Dawn, what is your plan?” The question came from Star. Dawn froze. She wanted to say “I don’t know” or “Let me think about it” but she knew from training that the worst thing to do was nothing. She had to think of something, but she could not think of anything other than what she had just seen.

“Ma’am, I believe our best course of action is to form ourselves on the right flank,” said Belle, pointing a hoof to where a company was maneuvering around a small gully toward the base of the ridge. Technically, according to the regulations, reinforcements arriving to an engagement were to report to the reserve until ordered forward by the unit commanders. Dawn liked the idea of that plan and turned to brief her officers when a loud cheer from the battle drew her attention. The sound of musketry had stopped, replaced instead by a rousing string of notes from the bugles that urged a steady forward movement across the whole battalion. The sunlight reflected brightly off the front of the line. Bayonets. The battalion was going to take the ridge with the force of cold steel. Dawn knew her plan was useless. She had to act now.

She trained her telescope once more on the ridge then found what she was looking for. Along the left side, hidden from the battalion by a rocky spur but visible from her position was a path that led up and around the ridgeline. If she could get her ponies in position on top of the crest, their fire could enfilade the Boerperd position and allow the rest of the battalion to claim the objective.

“Alright, here is the plan,” Dawn said. “We need to get on top of that ridge. There is a path that I think will work, but we need to be quick. I will take the twenty ponies we have trained as skirmishers and lead the way forward. Star, you will lead the main force behind me. Deploy as soon as you reach the top of the ridge. Belle, I need you to take ten ponies and escort the wagons to the battalion. They must need ammunition – I can’t see why they would resort to the bayonet otherwise.”

“But ma’am, should we not report-in first? You are no longer the ranking officer on the field,” Belle protested. She had flattened her ears against her head.

“Then why don’t you report-in for us when you get the wagons over there,” Dawn replied curtly, flattening her ears as well. There was no time to argue. The three officers slid down the hill and shouted orders in the rush to gather ponies together.

Dawn kept her ponies low, trying to take advantage of the cover provided by bushes and dips in the land to cover her approach. She hoped that the assault by the main battalion would keep the Boerperd rifle-ponies from sighting her detachment until they made it to the spur, which was about two hundred lengths distant. She paused to peek over at the battalion’s progress, pulling out her telescope. Through the glass she could see that the forward momentum had been stopped just short of the ridge’s base. She panicked. What if the ponies weren’t charging up the slope? Her detachment’s action would have no effect and be cut off without the weight of seven hundred bayonets to support them. A ragged volley erupted from the line, and then the rousing bugle call returned. Dawn briefed a sigh of relief. The battalion had just stopped to return fire before finishing the advance.

“Now’s our chance to cross that dead space, ma’am,” said Crag, the keen pegasus noting the increase in fire from the Boerperds that suggested their renewed focus on the main battalion. Dawn nodded and motioned to the rest of her skirmishers. They broke into a gallop, covering the distance in less than fifteen seconds, although Dawn thought it felt like fifteen minutes. Safely on the other side, the lieutenant began giving orders. She had studied this section of her manual.

“Deploy as skirmishers, open order. When you reach the top of the ridge, fifteen rounds independent fire, advance ten lengths, then resume independent fire until Cornet Star deploys. Let’s go!” The soldiers climbed up the path, gripping their rifle bits closely. The skirmishers had studied, too, each moving in sync with their partner in movements that had been rehearsed in exercises countless times. Skirmishers within the Equestrian Army were carefully chosen for their ability to operate with initiative and creativity in such fighting pairs. Dawn noted that Crag and Applesnack were one of the pairs. She hoped these ponies would prove to be no exception to the reputation.

As soon as the first skirmishers cleared the crest they went to ground, taking advantage of what cover they could find. Most removed their rifles from their harness and took the weapon in their hooves, laying it the ground in front of them as they sat or went prone. The rifles, unlike the old breech-loaders, were designed to be fired in any number of positions due to the freedom of movement built into the bit. Dawn figured her ponies must have learned the trick when the unit had rotated through a series of exercises designed to introduce the operation and tactics associated with the weapon change.

The first shots rang out across the ridge, followed quickly by a rapid staccato as ponies operated the bolts with practiced speed. Despite the pace, Dawn could see that each shot was well aimed, bullets finding homes in the crouched ponies that lined the ditch. She saw one Boerperd spin around, a look of surprise and confusion on his face as he crumbled. She felt a pang of pity for the ponies. Her bowels echoed a different sentiment.

The Boerperds had caught on to the flank attack, shifting in their ditch to find new cover that protected them from the threat. Crag saw the movement and corresponding lull in fire. He turned to Applesnack, who grunted in return and ran forward to take a new position while Crag scanned for anypony targeting him. He sighted one aiming towards his partner then loosed a shot, downing a chestnut stallion whose chest darkened red as he fell.

“I see your eyes are still sharp as a colt, old pony,” Applesnack roared at his partner as he took cover in his new position.

“Wouldn’t have to use ‘em as much if you weren’t such a big target,” Crag laughed back. He pushed a several fresh rounds into the rifle’s magazine and then closed the bolt, seeking new targets. Targets, Dawn observed, that were getting harder to spot. The enemy had finished their movements and were now well concealed yet again. The return fire intensified, bullets finding their way to kick up the dirt next to Dawn. She flinched, covering her head with her hooves. Two more minutes of this and her little skirmishing party would be forced back. She looked behind her, trying to plan out the best route of escape.

The sound of Ditty’s bugle stopped her planning efforts. The main body of the detachment cleared the crest, ponies running forward to evolve the column into three extended lines. They crouched down and brought their rifles up to the ready position. Behind them, Star held her saber aloft, smiling while she saluted her lieutenant. Now the real fighting could begin.

Lieutenant Colonel F. D. Simmer was not happy. He paced around the top of the knoll he and his staff occupied. The battle should be won by now. The Boerperds were nothing but a bunch of stinking farmers, no match for the disciplined soldiers of the North Equus. He had chosen his finest uniform to wear for the battle, completed with all of the gold and gemstone trappings his rank entitled him to, plus a few accessories he thought he should be. Now it and the rest of his fur were covered in a thin layer of dust kicked up in the process of the colonel’s display of displeasure. His magic wrapped around his telescope as he brought it up for the tenth time in the last two minutes, then slammed it shut again.

“Dammit, Bolt, I thought your messenger delivered the order to charge thirty minutes ago. The field would be ours if your damned pegasi could actually fly.”

The earth pony major remained calm, indifferent to his commander’s tantrum. He knew that the order had been delivered and that the colonel himself had only given the order fifteen minutes ago.

“Sir, the Boerperds possess a strong position. It will take time for our soldiers to dislodge them. But the victory will soon be yours, sir.” Major Bolt knew the victory would come sooner if Colonel Simmer had not been so insistent on following the outdated drill manual. Or on launching a frontal assault instead of exploiting the geography of the land for tactical solutions to force the enemy off their ridge. But Bolt had not reached his current position as executive officer of the 2nd battalion, North Equus Regiment of Hoof by being a fool. So, he held his tongue and let his overstuffed commander enjoy his little battle.

“And where the hell are those damned rifles and cartridges? I thought they were supposed to be here yesterday!” For once Bolt shared Colonel Simmer’s frustration. The advanced weapons would have put them on the same level technologically with the Boerperds, while the training and tactics of the Equestrians would have made easier work of the farmers. Bolt was about to create a flattering excuse when he sighted the approaching wagons.

“Actually, sir, they are right here,” he said. He watched as a young silver unicorn and large red stallion trotted up the hill to the group of officers.

“Cornet Ribbon Belle, reporting as ordered, sir. I have brought the ponies and supplies from Ponyville,” Belle panted as she saluted. Big Mac also rendered a salute.

“Cornet Belle, welcome back to the North Equus. I trust your trip went well?” Colonel Simmer greeted the cornet. Major Bolt offered a weak smile which faded as he started counting ponies next to the wagons.

“Well, sir,” started Belle, “I am not sure where to begin.”

“Perhaps you can start by telling me why there are only ten ponies here. Where are the rest of your soldiers, cornet?” Bolt interrupted.

Belle kept her voice confident as she replied. “That is the thing, sir. The new lieutenant is out of control. First, she refused to load enough coal on the train in Ponyville, then insisted we march on hoof from the Crystal Empire. And when we stopped there, she let everypony loose in the city to get drunk. I even saw her fraternizing with common soldiers!” Colonel Simmer shook his head in disgust. Big Mac threw his ears back and glared at Belle. “And now, sir, she has taken the detachment and led them on her own personal mission. I tried to stop her, sir, remind her that our duty was to report straight to you. But she wouldn’t listen, sir.”

Major Bolt had taken his telescope out while the cornet shared her tale and trained it on the ridgeline. He sighted Lieutenant Dawn’s detachment making progress on the Boerperd’s flank. The lieutenant had guts, and brains, Bolt concluded. A rare combination.

Colonel Simmer had also spotted the lieutenant’s position through his telescope. “By Celestia,” he murmured. “What the hell does she think she’s doing? She’s going to ruin the whole battle!” Major Bolt hoped, for her sake and the battalion’s, that his commander was wrong.

The sound of rapid fire from her detachment’s rifles was louder than Dawn had imagined. As soon as Star deployed on the crest Dawn ordered the skirmishers withdrawn, forming them up on the flanks while she took her place in the center of the formation.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” said Star, her silken voice barely covering her anxiety over the din. She kept her saber floating next to her, waving it about like she imagined an officer in battle should. Dawn was impressed by the noise but not the effect their fire seemed to be having on the enemy, who remained well concealed. Through her telescope Dawn could see that very few rounds actually made it to the ditch to kick up dirt like see had seen the Boerperd’s fire do. Her ponies were not even hitting the ground next to them.

“Take your time, aim low!” Dawn shouted across the line. “The bastards are in the dirt, not the sky.” She loaded a hoof-full of rounds into her own rifle and lined up the figure of a yellow mare in the sights to demonstrate, then squeezed the bit as her weapon discharged and rammed the belts supporting it into her back. She smiled when she saw her shot and her words take effect as the mare and other figures began to crumble around the ditch.

Then she stopped. She was killing ponies. Ponies who called this place home. And not just with her orders, but with her own hooves. The sinking feeling in her gut returned. She turned her back on the battle, spreading her forelegs to brace herself.

“Lieutenant, I think you better see this,” Star shouted back. Dawn collected herself and returned to her post, pulling the telescope up to her eye as she did. The battalion had appeared on the crest of the ridge, bayonets leveled and colors flapping. She could see the officers open their mouths then drop their sabers forward. The whole line broke into a canter then a gallop after five strides. Dawn heard the shouts and bugles half a second later.

“Detachment, cease fire!” Dawn commanded, Ditty blowing the repeated short-long note pattern that corresponded to the order. Their work was done, but just to be safe she ordered the ponies to fix bayonets. Each pony reached back to their flank and pulled the eighteen inch blade out from its scabbard, attaching it to the matching slots on the end of their rifles. They then returned the rifle to the ready position, awaiting the order of “charge, bayonets” that would level the blade in front of them.

The lines of red had pushed back the first group of Boerperds. The colors stood defiantly on the crest. Dawn felt a wave of pride for the symbols of the beloved Princesses which was further amplified by the cheer that erupted among her ponies. The bayonets carried over the ditch, pushing through the bush down the other side of the ridge in pursuit of the fleeing ponies. And then the cheering stopped, replaced by a renewed fury of rifle fire.

Shit, shit, shit! The Boerperds had a secondary position on the reverse slope and were now pouring all they had into the red-clad soldiers at point-blank range. The battalion’s advance collapsed. Dawn’s elation turned to horror as she watched the companies break then melt away into streams of refugees sprinting down the ridge. The Boerperds were close on their tail, firing wildly into the fleeing mass. The call to retreat was cut short as a bullet lodged itself in the bugler’s throat.

A determined group of soldiers clustered around the colors, stabbing and clubbing to keep the enemy from reaching the precious blue and white silks. Their efforts were in vain. The colors fell and were snatched by a ragged group of Boerperds who carried it triumphantly down the slope. Dawn was furious, but she also noted that the enemy had forgotten about her little detachment. Now was the time.

“Detachment, magazine, independent, FIRE!” The sudden hail of rifle bullets caught the pursuers off guard, downing half the ponies in the initial volley. Some scrambled for cover to return fire, but most, realizing they had done enough, left the fleeing Equestrians alone and scurried down the ridge with their prize. Her action had bought the battalion time, but she knew that the enemy could regroup and force her off the ridge.

“Cease fire! Skirmishers, FORWARD!” Dawn yelled then turned to face the unicorn officer. “Cornet Star, lead the retreat!” The cornet complied, rapidly forming the ponies back into an orderly column and away from the ridge. Dawn rushed forward with the rest of the skirmishers, taking a position next to Crag. He turned an ear to acknowledge her but continued to stare down his rifle.

“Strange battle, Applesnack. I ain’t never seen nothing like it,” he commented as Dawn hit the dirt next to him. She was puzzled by the pegasus’s observation, but then again, this was her first time in action.

“Humor me,” Applesnack replied between his rifle shots. Dawn was interested too, perking up her ears. She had not had time to notice much between giving orders and the chaos and the killing.

“For one, how was the enemy so well equipped. These rifle designs are only a year old, and even then, the factories just started full production a few moons ago. How is it that poor farmers in this goddess-forsaken place have access to that sort of weapon when we’ve just started equipping own units with them?”

The logic scared Dawn. In Equestria, firearms were not common, reserved for the military and only then issued for training or deployment. There were barely enough of the old muzzle- and breech-loaders to equip every regiment, let alone the newer bolt-action designs.”

“How do you think they got access to them?” Dawn asked, thinking aloud.

“I think somepony gave them to them, Crag” Applesnack said dryly while he cleared his bolt, not noticing the different voice. “Probably the same pony who told them we were coming. A position like that doesn’t just appear – it has to be planned and built in advance.”

The battlefield looked even grislier when Dawn considered the possibility that somepony had orchestrated the slaughter. She had a lot of questions which she didn’t know if she wanted answered.