The Battle of Shiloh — Breda, Netherlands | August 1999
“… three… four… Squad (one-two)… Halt.”
One of the more interesting things about being a member of the Dutch army’s oldest corps, the Horse Artillery, is that we have a lot of ceremonial duties. A couple of weeks ago we stood at the Queen’s palace in the Hague as an honour guard for the new Filipino ambassador who came to present his credentials to her majesty — the Philippines must have one of the longest and most repetitive national anthems there is, it just went on and on, two soldiers actually passed out — and in a month’s time we will be back in the Hague to salute the yearly opening of Parliament. Today, however, we are in Breda, home of the Royal Military Academy, to make “music” with the Trumpeter Corps of the Mounted Arms.
We’ve been rehearsing all day with the television crew to make sure our contribution to tonight’s show will be caught well on camera. Our performance is completely choreographed. As soon as the trumpeters kick off, my gun squad and I will march, in pace with the music, towards the Ordnance 25-Pounder howitzer set up at the back of the parade ground. Once we get to the gun everybody will take their position, balletlike load the gun with a blank grenade and await the conductor’s signal.
A couple of hours ago we got dressed in the corps’ full ceremonial gear dating from the Napoleonic era for the final dress rehearsal. It’s quite an impressive uniform: midnight blue tunics, worn over a white dress shirt, trimmed with gold cord and lace according to rank, closed by dozens of brass buttons on golden braids. The showpiece is the hussar busby, made of faux bear fur, with golden cords, chin scales, a red bag and an orange cockade to show the corps’ allegiance to the Prince of Orange. As we are horse artillery, the outfit is completed with black leather riding boots, polished to perfection, with shiny silver spurs. At fist we also had sabres, but after the first rehearsal, it was quickly decided to omit those as they were seriously hindering our gun-loading ballet.
After the rehearsals we had a quick dinner and got ready for the show, which has been going on for a while now, soon it should be our turn.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back, for their third and final performance, the Trumpeter Corps of the Mounted Arms with their interpretation of Charles Barnhouse’s The Battle of Shiloh,” the parade master’s voice announces as the musicians march onto the parade ground. The conductor raises his hands and the music starts.
“Squad… Forward march,” I command, “Left… two… three… four. Left… two… three… four…,” I count our way towards the howitzer, “… three… four… Squad (one-two)… Halt.”
We’re now in place, the gunner takes his position on the little stool mounted to the left while the other squad members kneel on opposite sides next to the gun.
“Load grenade,” I order.
With a lot of robotic turning and feet stamping, my soldiers take a blank grenade from an ammunition box behind the gun and step-by-step place it from behind into the gun’s barrel. With a loud thud the gun’s breech opening lever slams to a close; the gunner raises his right hand to indicate we’re loaded. Now we wait.
As the music intensifies, I keep my eye on the conductor, carefully counting the beat. It’s quite nerve-wracking, this is going to be on national TV. The crescendo sets in, I’m glued to the conductor’s white-gloved hands… they go up.
“Fire,” I shout with conviction, BWOOM!
With a deafening bang and a blowtorch-like flame, the blank grenade explodes. An excited outcry rolls through the audience and loud applause follows; mission accomplished.
Trompetterkorps der Bereden Wapens. The Battle of Shiloh at Nationale Taptoe Breda ’99 [Live]. Breda, the Netherlands: (1999)
This autobiographical sketch comes from my bundle In the Moment: A Disjointed Audiobiography which is available at Amazon.com. (USD 9.50 for a paperback or USD 4.50 for the Kindle version)
