Excerpt from Mouton's Sharpshooters
Ashigawa
Tokoyomi Fushida was casually eating supper with his staff, preparing to leave the next day to join the Western Shogun in the field with his forces. He was in the midst of telling a rather humorous story about a peasant trying to milk a bull instead of a cow when the Daimyo's life was ended suddenly and abruptly.
It is said that his last words were "The peasant tried all he could, but the bull-" splat. His friend, Oshido Kurita was sitting on his left, looking bemused as the jolly man was telling his story, only to have his face covered in the brain matter and blood of his comrade. The room reportedly didn't register what had just happened for 10 seconds, all staring with a blank expression before the suddenly snapped out of it, ducking for cover and rallying the men into action. But the deed had been done, the Fushida clan was now paralyzed...
Amaury Mouton and his spotter, Gabriel Desjardins climbed up the Ashigawa some 15 minutes before Fushida met his fate. It was a muggy day, and the mission that Mouton had agreed to, he was now beginning to regret... Why I not send the young bucks? Just had to open me blast'd mouth, did I? he thought while scaling the steep cliff from his reverse. By the time he reached his position, he was covered in mud and needed to clean his precious Lucie of the muck and grim she got.
As Mouton was taking care of his beloved rifle, Gabe spotted his target and directed Amaury to take a gander at them.
"Whacha see down der, Gabe? Which one of them sons-of-bitches is that Fushider?"
"The one at the head of the table, stuffing his face with rice cakes and sushi." whispered Gabriel.
"Ah i see em now... Seems to be quite enjoying himself now, tis a shame I gots to ruin his fun now?" Picks up Lucie. "How far-s-away you think this lil' party is at, Gabe."
"Hmmm.... If me eyes are correct, bout twelve hundred yards, more or less. Bout the end of our range."
"Right," Amaury said, zoning his telescopic sight to the distance Gabe gave him. "You reckon 'em will hear us from this range?"
"Perhaps..." Taps Amaury on the shoulder. "But it ain't like they can do anything. Look at our spot!" points how at the steep gradient the bluff they are top of is. Would be near impossible for anyone to reach them. "I reckon fully they ain't gonna be able to touch us. Though we best make our escape as soon as we got confirmation that Fushider is dead."
Amaury thinks for a moment and looks at Gabriel before sighing. "You know, Gabe. I mightsda agreed to the business of killing another man, but i feel like a lily-livered coward doin' it this way..."
The veteran spotter looks at his superior and puts his hand on his shoulder. "Look Amaury, I get ya here. Had similar opinions when I joined the Royal Sharpshooters some twenty blasted years ago..." Both men stop to think for about ten seconds before Gabriel continues. "But 'tis our mission to do this, and ya did sign up for this on. Would ruin the reputation of our men if ya backed out now..." He pats him on the back. "Yet, 'tis up to ya Captain. I ain't gonna stop ya from making the morally correct decision, even if it ruin us!"
Mouton stares into the distance for some 30 odd seconds before turning to his spotter and giving him his answer. "Yer right, Gabe. 'Tis a nasty business, this war, but I gots to do it for me men and me honor."
Mouton breathed in deeply as he lays prone across the muddy ground. The rain had subsided, but light did not emerge from the clouds. Mooner sure did me a perfect atmosphere for this wicked business, did she not? though Mouton as he carefully held Lucie up, still shaking a little bit. He saw through his sight the man before him enjoying himself with his company and hesitated yet more. He was having more reservations despite his comments about him earlier. This was another man, with a family he thought. This truly is a wicked business. This mans got a family just like me, and he seems like a jolly old feller. In another life, he could be my friend... Should I do it? he continued to this. No, I gots to do it. Everyone dies one day, and unfortunately for this feller down yonder, today is the day where he meets his maker. Mooner give me strength and forgive me as I end this poor son-of-a-bitch's life! He steadily moved his crosshairs over the right temple of the man down below. He took a deep breath, and with much regret pulled the trigger. The muzzle flashed and forest creatures scurried away at the sound as Amaury watched through his sight. All of it took less than a second, but that second was the longest of his life as he watched the bullet hit the unsuspecting man, and then watching his face fall down onto his food in front of him.
Amaury, like the men down below, must have been paralyzed for 30 seconds after the deed was done. Gabriel had whispered to him "Target neutralized! letsa get out of here now!" but the shock of it all consumed Amaury for the moment. Twas only Gabriel physically grabbing him that snapped him out of the trance.
"Cmon, Captain, let's move."
"R-Right!"
The two scampered off and made their escape. The whole way back to camp, some 3 miles away, Amaury was silent and seemingly in a trance from the deed he did. Gabriel understood that he needed to think over what he had just done and left him alone. Twas easy for a man with a musket in line to adjust to war. He never knew if his bullet struck the souls in front of him, or if it was that of his comrades. The same never was true for a Sharpshooter.... For despite the ranges, they fight at, taking the life of another man in such a cowardly yet personal matter could take a toll indeed. The irony of it all being that it was much like someone gutting another soul with a bayonet, seeing the life leave their body...
Men ain't born killers, and the business of war is an unnatural act. The illusions of glory, fame, and wealth tempt naive boys into it, with none truly knowing what they signed up for. Some adapt well, and become ruthless cold blooded killers, others live with trauma for the rest of their mortal lives, and some a bit of both. What Amaury and his gang each will become will be seen in time... but one thing is certain: Amaury himself never did forget the look of Fushida's face when the bullet found his mark...