I transmigrated as a french soldier during XVIIIth century

Saying they were a bit cramped aboard the Océan was a gross understatement compared to reality. Everything was very compartmentalized, the cannons took up an enormous amount of space, and on top of that, there were the masts, which were like three huge obstacles. And that’s without counting all the equipment necessary for working in good conditions.

Adam, who had just entered the ship with his comrades, let out a small cry of surprise. He almost hit his head on a large beam crossing from one side of the ship to the other, while another man took a lantern—luckily unlit—right in the face.

The ceiling is really low... the young man sighed inwardly. Can we really spend weeks at sea with so little space?

Guided by Louis Lenoir, they explored the ship.

“This is the second deck. The first deck is below. Don’t forget that,” said the young officer, who seemed determined to share all his knowledge about the ship. “There are sixteen 18-pound cannons on each side, totaling thirty-two pieces. On the first deck, there are thirty 36-pound cannons, fifteen on each side. Oh yes, very important! There’s a whole vocabulary on board a ship. Since you won’t be idle during our voyage, you’ll be expected to work with us, especially right now. You’ll need to learn certain terms. If someone says ‘port,’ it’s the left side; if they say ‘starboard,’ it’s the right. Got it?”

Some of the soldiers nodded, but many didn’t react. Some probably couldn’t see themselves participating in ship maneuvers. Adam was one of them. He had already struggled to adjust to his life as a soldier.

“We have a few more artillery pieces at the bow, the front of the ship, and at the stern, the rear. In total, we have eighty cannons. The only thing that varies is their size. This ship, more than any of its generation, has significant storage space. This allows us to carry more water, food, gunpowder, spare materials for emergency repairs, more cannonballs, and even some animals.”

“There are animals on board?!” a soldier somewhere behind Adam asked, though he couldn’t tell where exactly the question came from.

“Indeed. Thanks to them, we can have fresh eggs, milk, or meat, plain and simple. You’ll have the chance to see them and take care of them. We have some chickens, ducks, pigeons, goats, and even oxen!”

Pigeons?!

Adam felt a wave of disgust rise within him. He naturally pictured the large, stupid, and greedy bird from his daily life, eating absolutely everything it could find—even bits of paper or plastic—multiplying endlessly and pooping everywhere.

He couldn’t have known that the pigeons mentioned by Lieutenant Louis Lenoir were nothing like their descendants, much like modern teenagers had nothing in common with those young men who had been working since they had the physical capacity to do so. Adam had seen many of them in the Duke of Richelieu’s army, and it seemed like there were even more aboard this warship.

“Before you arrived, we restocked our supplies of food and fresh water. We have enough provisions, water, and wine for five or six months. That’s enough to reach the East Indies.”

“Th-the East Indies?!” a captain, who seemed much older than Armand Gilbert, stammered. “So... So that’s where we’re headed?”

“No, at least not if our orders remain unchanged. And you don’t need to know that. This is just to give you an idea of what’s possible with so much food. Since the ships you came on don’t have sufficient reserves, we won’t be able to leave immediately. So we’ll have to stay in Brest for a few days. Unfortunately, we can’t allow you to go ashore. There’s an epidemic.”

As soon as that word was uttered, everyone’s expressions changed. All those who were about to cry out in protest closed their mouths and remained silent. Everyone here knew these things had to be taken very seriously. It only took one man to fall ill to condemn an entire army.

Adam raised his hand like in school.

“Yes?” said Lieutenant Louis Lenoir, directing his gaze toward this young man, who, like him, was in his twenties.

“Where are we going to sleep?”

As soon as he asked the question, the crowd of soldiers stirred, as everyone was wondering the same thing.

“Like all the sailors on board, you’ll be sleeping in hammocks. For now, you won’t see any, as it’s daytime. Everything is stowed away in the morning, and we only take them out when it’s time to sleep. We’ll explain when the time comes how to set them up, where to get them, how to fold them, and how to get into them. If you’re a restless sleeper, I recommend sleeping as close to the floor as possible. That way, if you fall, the drop will be lower and less painful.”

The soldiers all tensed, imagining the scene. If they were all supposed to sleep in such a confined space, what kind of night would they have? Sleeping four to a tent was already difficult, but now they were being asked to sleep by the hundreds, all on one deck!

“M-mister?” a young soldier who must have been around eighteen timidly raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“A-are... Are we all going to sleep here? Isn’t it too crowded?”

“Yes, you’re all going to sleep here, but don’t worry too much about space. Since we have more ships compared to our departure from Toulon, we had to transfer some of the crew to those ships. So, while the full crew of the Océan is around eight hundred people, only half of that remains. That’s why I told you you won’t be idle. You’ll be involved in all the maneuvers, whether in the rigging or at the cannons. Of course, we won’t leave you to figure it out on your own. We’ll be there to guide and train you.”

Although the soldiers should have felt relieved, the vast majority had lost all their courage. Most of them already imagined themselves climbing the rigging, slipping, and either falling into the sea or crashing onto the ship’s deck.

I want to get off! I want to be sent back to Prussia!

***

Inside the captain’s cabin, Lieutenant Louis Lenoir found Mr. Du Chaffault de Besné seated behind his large desk, softly illuminated by daylight streaming through the grand windows behind him.

Despite his unimposing build, no one would dare disrespect him. He wore a simple yet finely crafted powdered wig that could easily be mistaken for his natural hair. His dark eyebrows were perpetually furrowed, giving him a constant air of thoughtfulness or annoyance. His nose, straight and fine, was somewhat long, and his charming mouth was marred on the left side by a large scar cutting across his face.

He had been fortunate not to lose an eye when he received that gift from the English. It had happened during the War of Austrian Succession in 1747, off the coast of Spain. At that time, he was the second captain aboard the flagship of the fleet commanded by the Marquis d’Estendüère, the Tonnant. They were eight ships of the line and a frigate, escorting nearly two hundred and fifty merchant ships. But they had encountered Rear Admiral Hawke’s squadron, which boasted twenty-three ships of the line.

The Tonnant, a sturdy eighty-gun ship like the Océan, had fought like a lion for hours, engaging the enemy again and again, sometimes battling five opponents at once! The fight had been brutal, and it left its mark on his face. By some miracle, they had been saved and had only twenty-three dead to mourn.

“How did it go?” the captain asked, not looking up from his work, meticulously writing in a ledger the names of all the men aboard.

“Quite well, captain. I showed them around the ship and started teaching them some vocabulary so they can understand your orders.”

“Good. I don’t intend to turn them into sailors, but it would be beneficial for them to learn the basics, like tying different kinds of knots or knowing the names of the rigging elements.”

“That’s a lot of information,” Louis Lenoir remarked.

“Indeed, but they’ll have plenty of time to learn it. Have they been informed about the regulations yet?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Beaumont, the boatswain, clearly explained to our passengers each of our rules and the punishments for any violations.”

“Excellent. In that case, I’m reassured,” said the captain as he closed his large book with its green and black binding. “Tonight, I will dine with Captains Gilbert, Mortier, Joubert, Chaumont, and Dupré. Naturally, I expect your presence as well as Mr. de Sablé’s. While you were with Marshal’s soldiers, I sent someone to the Monmouth. Mr. Beaumont will join us this evening. We will discuss the mission His Majesty has entrusted to us. You may go.”

“At your orders,” replied the lieutenant simply before withdrawing, harboring no particular feelings toward the second in command.

Louis Lenoir returned to the main deck, greeted by a gentle southern breeze. It had cleared most of the clouds, revealing a largely clear sky.

The sun, low at this hour, painted the sky in fiery colors as it made the sea sparkle. It was a magnificent scene, one that made you want to do nothing but watch this painting that no great master could ever truly capture. The fluffy clouds were also awash in beautiful colors, as if God had played with every color at His disposal.

Not far away, the guardian of Brest, the castle, seemed to be built from blocks of gold. Its high walls, almost plunging directly into the sea, were struck by the last rays of sunlight and would soon turn as dark as the sharp rocks surrounding the fortress, at least from that side.

Brest stretched out behind the stone giant, while on the other side of the Penfeld River lay Recouvrance. The two areas had become a single city administratively, but there was no bridge connecting them. It wasn’t very practical for trade. The locals had no choice but to use ferries manually propelled by long poles, unless they wanted to take a long detour.

It’s a beautiful city from here. Who would think there’s an epidemic going on? Oh, how I wish I could visit the arsenal... All those people, the tools, all those techniques!

The young man sighed deeply as he gazed at the numerous masts on the Penfeld River.

I would have loved to learn how to build these massive ships. If only Father...

It was then that he noticed one of Marshal Richelieu’s soldiers had wandered onto the deck. With his nose in the air, he seemed quite interested in the rigging. He was also observing the cannons mounted on their solid carriages.

Louis smiled and decided to approach him.

“You look like you’re feeling better, that’s good!”

“Oh, yes! Um, I think the other ship was just too small and unstable.”

“Probably, yes. This one should make your journey much more comfortable.”

“The journey?” the young man asked, clearly curious.

Ah, I’ve said too much. He certainly isn’t informed about our mission. He has an epaulette. He’s a lieutenant, I believe. Hmm, he doesn’t look wealthy, judging by his outfit and sword. Oh! I hadn’t noticed he had a scar! Good Lord! It’s almost as big as the captain’s!

“Are you alright?” the young lieutenant asked, noticing that Louis wasn’t responding.

“Oh, sorry, it’s just that... I didn’t see your scar above your eye. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I have this bad habit of... Anyway!”

Louis blushed violently, mentally berating himself for his clumsiness. Luckily, the young man before him showed no signs of discomfort or anger.

“It’s nothing,” he said with a smile. “Yes, I was very lucky.”

He then removed his tricorn and brushed back his long chestnut hair.

My God!

“Did... did you get that in Prussia?” the young officer asked, both impressed and frightened.

“Yes, but it wasn’t in battle. I slipped and hit my head on a big rock. It was last July. It’s crazy how fast time flies! It’s almost April already.”

For some strange reason, he suddenly seemed very sad. Louis decided to change the subject to revive the conversation.

“By the way, did you know Spain has entered the war? You probably haven’t heard yet since you’ve just arrived, but I can assure you it’s true!”

"The Spanish? Really? Can they do anything besides play football and party?"

"Excuse me? Play 'foot bowl'? What is that?"

The young man suddenly seemed very embarrassed and waved his hands as if trying to erase what he had just said.

"Nothing, nothing! It's nothing! So, Spain has entered the war. Are they on our side?"

"Yes! However, Portugal has also entered the war, but on the side of the English."

"Oh..."

Louis was a bit disappointed by the young man’s lukewarm reaction. After all, these were vast colonial empires. Spain held a massive territory across the Atlantic, as did its Portuguese rival.

"Spain officially entered the war on February 28th. And do you know how? They attacked a British squadron that was attacking us! The British were so surprised, they couldn’t do anything, haha! Just thinking about it makes me laugh! At the time, the Océan, commanded by Rear Admiral de la Clue-Sabran, was trapped in the port of Cartagena. We were outnumbered. Then three of our ships arrived. The British set off in pursuit, and we couldn’t do anything because the wind was against us!"

"Oh, really?" the lieutenant said, showing a bit more interest in the story.

"Yes! Then they arrived! There was a huge hundred-gun ship, several sixty- or seventy-gun ships, a few frigates, and bomb ketches. Those who had gone after our ships immediately turned back but were quickly surrounded. Then the ships blocking us tried to flee, but it was too late for them too! Hahaha! It was so satisfying to see them in such despair! The battle lasted nearly five hours, and we joined in as well because during the fight, the wind changed enough for us to sail out. See those two ships? They’re British ships! That’s why there are so few of us aboard the Océan. And it’s the same on the other ships. We’re really going to need your help to reach our destination."