Talavera, Spain July 27, 1809
Thenardier wiped the sweat off his face as he swore at the hot Spanish sun burning the bodies of his men and himself. They were supposed to go fight those damn redcoats and the Spanish, and he could hear cannon fire in the distance. He had been in this hellhole for a full year fighting for the Emperor. He should have left France at the start of the war with his young wife where they could go back to the life of robbing and just being with each other. But now he was over in this hot,miserable place, waiting to get killed. Marshall Victor was ready to go fight Wellington and Cuesta. Thenardier went over to a nearby creek and filled the canteen up as much as possible, guzzling some down. The cannons were firing now, and he could smell smoke. Suddenly the drums and bugles sounded at the same time, and swearing under his breath, he went to join the other soldiers, being given orders by a mounted officer.
"Soldiers, the officer said, the enemy is attacking our soldiers on the heights now. We must march to their assistance." Now gather all your things"! The soldiers gathered up their weapons and knapsacks while some went to a priest in case they would never go home. Thenardier pasted a gold franc he had stored in his pocket. He heard the cannons and stiffened up. Now there was no going back.