June 6 - Reporting Back

Paol didn't answer. His breath was coming in ragged gasps and it was all he could do to simply keep moving, splashing toward the low hanging cloud of musket smoke up ahead of them.

And then there was another explosion of shots fired up ahead, though they seemed to come from all directions at once. Foucheaux stopped, standing in muddy water halfway to his knees, and he stared about in confusion. Where were their friends? Where was the enemy? They seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. It would be impossible to sneak up behind anyone for fear of being fired upon by their own friends. He quickly fixed his bayonet and yelled. "St Laurent! 86iemes!"

[to here]