The Hessian Jägers were camped on the outskirts of town, allowing for a significant and deliberate separation from their British regular counterparts. The relationship between the two groups was shaky at best, with the British soldiers looking down on the German mercenaries they fought beside as nothing more than brutish privateers. In return, the German troops held their heads high and flaunted their near-spotless battle records, proudly defending their highly prized honor from the taunts of their supposed comrades with equal doses of sharp words and ready fists.
The two groups were as different as their uniforms, the British in their traditional sharp red and the Germans in more neutral blue or green. The obvious distinction between the two groups made it easier to pull them apart whenever a brawl broke out, if the different languages they used in hurling insults at one another weren't enough. The fact that most of the Hessian troops spoke very little english and the British regulars spoke no german at all made it difficult to resolve disputes. Usually the commanding officers just saved themselves the trouble, making sure the groups were far enough apart and well enough supervised that no incidental clashes could occur and result in any unfortunate paperwork.
As he neared the rows of tents that made up the encampment, Bordon could see groups of men standing about, chatting idly in their harsh and perplexing native language. A few noticed his approach and made whispered comments to their comrades, prompting a number of thinly vailed smiles as they sized up the wheezing red-coated officer suddenly in their midst. Bordon returned their stares boldly as he scanned the group for any sign of an officer in charge. Seeing none he made a direct line for the one soldier who appeared the least threatening of the sordid-looking bunch. The young, dusty blonde Private stood apart from the others, leaning casually against the trunk of a thin tree and whittling a small chunk of wood with a delicate looking paring knife.
Noticing the disturbance amongst his fellow Jägers nearby, the young man looked up from his handiwork and spotted the approaching Major. His calmly focused expression quickly melted into one of fidgety nervousness as the British officer neared, his own face fixed in a look of bold determination.
Bordon stopped a few paces from the Hessian private, who recognized his rank and stood swiftly to attention, slipping the half-carved piece of wood and small knife into a pocket on his blue uniform jacket.
"Do you speak english?" Bordon noticed a glimmer of recognition in the young man's eyes.
"Yes sir, I speak little. Do you look for someone, Major?" The private's words were slow and thickly accented, but understandable.
"Indeed I do, private. I need to speak with Major Ehrgeiz.. would you happen to know where I might be able to find him?"
"Able to find…?" The private looked confused for a moment as he mulled over the words, before a sudden smile broke across his face as he grasped Bordon's meaning.
"Ah, yes! You seek the Major? I will show you. Come! This way, sir."
The private gestured for Bordon to follow and struck off swiftly in the direction of a mass of tents bunched together nearby. The other Germans seemed to have gotten over their initial curiosity toward the Major, as his business obviously didn't lie with any of them. They returned to their conversations, cooking fires and card games as they jovially passed around bottles of wine and other sorts of liquor, likely liberated from one of the houses near the edge of their camp.
Bordon did his best to keep up with the swift pace set by the young man, but the strain of doing so quickly became apparent by the sound his lungs made as he forced them to work more rapidly than they were prepared to. The Private slowed considerably and fell into step beside him so that he could catch his breath. The Major smiled appreciatively and decided to try and strike up a conversation with the young German.
"What's your name, Private?"
"Wurtzer, sir." The young Private fidgeted with the buttons on his blue jacket as they walked, picking their way amongst the tents.
"So, Private Wurtzer- how has your regiment been recovering from our most recent battle? I heard from General O'Hara that this unit was heavily engaged?"
The man was quiet a moment as he mentally translated Bordon's meaning, "Ah yes, sir! We are well as to expect. The General is most kind to send you in asking after us." The Private hesitated a moment, as if searching for words or debating the wisdom of continuing his response. "Forgive my poor words, sir, but many past generals have seemed to care little for us. General O'Hara is not like that. He treats us as well as British soldiers. We try to fight well for him."
Bordon pondered a moment. It was true that many of those in the British command looked down on the Hessians as a pack of unruly mercenaries. In his time with the dragoons he'd often heard Tavington mention Cornwallis speaking ill of the Jägers and other German units, complaining that they were hesitant to press an attack or slow to follow orders. Often, their behavior in the field was much the same as that of the regular British infantry, but the British troops usually escaped the same scrutiny.
"How long have you been fighting here in the Colonies?"
"I have two years, sir. Our regiment arrived here in April of '78. Many other Jägers are here since '76, but we came late."
Bordon's eyebrows arched curiously, "Two years though- you must have seen a decent amount of action?"
The Private nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, sir! This regiment, 6th Jägers, we were fighting Monmouth Courthouse, Newport, Stony Point, Minisink, Newtown..." The young man ticked the battles off on his fingers as he named them. "Other smaller fights too, but those are big. They send us everywhere in New York. Then we came south with General Clinton. We fight in Charleston and Camden before transfer to General O'Hara."
Bordon was impressed, "That's quite a list! I saw little action in the north, myself. Was assigned to intelligence. Interesting work, but I was glad when I got the opportunity to be transferred... But tell me, your late Colonel Verhältnisse- was he in command of your group the entire time?"
Wurtzer looked confused a moment, but then his eyes lit as he realized the meaning of the question, "No, sir. Colonel Verhältnisse commanded us only after we came here to Carolina."
Bordon pondered that a moment. He couldn't tell from Wurtzer's tone
whether or not he'd personally liked the Colonel, so Bordon assumed the
young Private had little contact with their commanding officer. Any orders
would have been communicated to Wurtzer and other enlisted men through
lower ranking officers. The young man probably had little other information
that would be useful in his inquiry to the Colonel's death.
"I must say, Private, your english is quite good."
Wurtzer beamed. "I greatly thank you for that, Major! Before joining
the Jägers I much wanted to be a teacher of literature. I much liked
your England's William Shakespeare, but family matters stopped me finishing
my studies." His voice was tinged with regret.
As the pair neared what Bordon guessed to be their destination, a tent
slightly larger and set apart from the rest, a heavy set blue-coated Hessian
captain hurriedly broke away from his conversation by one of the mess tents
and moved to intercept them. The flustered looking man shot Bordon a sharp
glance and called out to the private, who stopped and turned to face his
superior officer. The two then started a fast paced and, on the part of
the captain, angry sounding exchange filled with rough gestures. Bordon
stood back and watched the pair, trying to get some inkling of what was
going on despite the fact that he could understand nothing of what was
being said. He began to regret having studied only French and Latin back
in his school days. The young private looked meek and much abashed, which
didn't phase the captain at all as he continued to harangue the man boisterously
until Bordon could stand silently no longer.
"Now just a moment, Captain! What, exactly, is going on here?" He stepped
between the two Germans and spoke with a demanding tone, doing his best
to look imposing.
The captain broke off mid-sentence and turned to face him, his face
flushed red.
"Sir, it is inexcusable! Major Ehrgeiz, he..." Bordon couldn't be sure
if it was a matter of the man's incensed state or the fact that his grasp
of english was simply poor, but the Captain's accent was so thick his words
were barely understandable as he sputtered angrily.
"I can hear you out there, you know." The voice that chimed in suddenly
from within the command tent was measured and refined, and judging by the
Captain's reaction was likely that of Major Ehrgeiz himself.
The entry flap on the tent suddenly parted and a young, rather disheveled
looking Lieutenant stepped out. His dark blond hair was severely mussed
and he carried his uniform jacket draped casually over his arm. The young
man shot the flustered Captain a sly grin before wandering confidently
over to the mess tent. The Captain's face turned a brilliant shade of red
before he too stormed off, in the opposite direction.
Wurtzer was nearly in panic. His eyes shot back and forth rapidly between
the two departing officers, fidgeting nervously.
"Private Wurtzer?" The same calm voice emanated again from within the
tent, "Would you please tell our guest that if he wishes to speak with
me he should be obliged to come in here and do so?"
The Private started at the sound of his name. Judging by the rabbit-in-a-snare
look on his face, Bordon guessed he hadn't understood a word of his commander's
subsequently spoken command. Bordon tapped Wurtzer's shoulder lightly,
which caused him to startle but succeeded in getting his attention.
"Thank you for your assistance, Private. I believe I've found who I'm
looking for." Bordon smiled reassuringly. The young soldier bobbed his
head in acknowledgement and stammered some response in german before scrambling
off in the direction they'd come. Bordon wondered how long it'd take before
the young man was set upon by his squad mates for details about what the
unusual British Major had been looking for.
Bordon tugged on the bottom hem of his jacket to straighten it and
took a deep breath before striding toward the entry to the command tent.
He lifted the canvas flap and bent slightly at the waist to duck inside,
letting the flap fall back into place behind him.
The inside of the tent was dim with the flaps closed and the interior
was lit only by what sunshine could get through the cloth of the tent's
roof and sides. As Bordon's eyes adjusted slowly from the bright sunshine
outside, he could see the silhouette of the Hessian Major back-lit by the
orange sunlight gleaming through the canvas behind him.
"Good afternoon, Major. I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm Major Bordon
from General O'Hara's staff. He sent me to ask you a few questions."
As he spoke Bordon took a few steps forward so he could see his fellow
officer more clearly. Major Ehrgeiz lounged back in a chair with his feet
propped up on a small wooden field desk. As his sight grew accustomed to
the dim light, Bordon could make out more details about his appearance.
The Major was tall and lanky man in his mid-thirties with dark brown
hair and a thick mustache. His uniform was a mess, but Ehrgeiz didn't seem
to notice. His vest was unbuttoned and his white shirt was sloppily un-tucked
from his breeches, his blue uniform jacket draped over a nearby chair.
As Bordon neared the desk, Erhgeiz gestured toward the chair occupied
by his jacket.
"Ah, I see." His thin mouth twisted into a sneer-like grin and his
eyes narrowed slightly as he looked Bordon over. "Well, have a seat Major
and I'll do my best to answer them.."