Prologue.
Sweat trickled down his hardened face as the battle raged around him. Both ships were now on equal footing. Both had been damaged equally and both had included an equal number of casualties. But there was one big factor.
The captain of the French ship probably didn't know it, but he was no match for his counterpart, Captain Samuel Morris of the 'Valentina'
Presently, Captain Morris brushed off the sweat from his forehead and shouted "Muscle up men, concentrate grapeshot fire."
The sailors immediately obeyed like domestic animals. They knew that their shrewd captain, who had sunk a dozen ships before had a plan in mind.
Actually he didn't. Not at least at the present moment. But what he did know was that the improved grapeshot that the Valentina had acquired a week before was the latest cutting edge technology and would surely be able to kill a lot of the enemy crew and do a lot of damage. He knew perfectly well, that in this endeavour, he was making his ship and his person vulnerable to heavy cannon fire from the enemy.
Nevertheless he continued to pace up and down on board, he believed in leading from the front.
Suddenly someone shouted from the west end of the ship " We got him, we got him, the enemy captain has fallen".
Excitedly, Captain Morris ran towards that man. However thick smoke from the firing made everything invisible. There was no way to confirm.
But then suddenly some deckhand on the ship shouted "Look, they are raising the white flag. Its over. They are surrendering!"
Captain Morris probably didn't know it then. But he had partaken in one of the last naval battles of the Napolenic wars.
The age of Napoleon was over .
Sweat trickled down his hardened face as the battle raged around him. Both ships were now on equal footing. Both had been damaged equally and both had included an equal number of casualties. But there was one big factor.
The captain of the French ship probably didn't know it, but he was no match for his counterpart, Captain Samuel Morris of the 'Valentina'
Presently, Captain Morris brushed off the sweat from his forehead and shouted "Muscle up men, concentrate grapeshot fire."
The sailors immediately obeyed like domestic animals. They knew that their shrewd captain, who had sunk a dozen ships before had a plan in mind.
Actually he didn't. Not at least at the present moment. But what he did know was that the improved grapeshot that the Valentina had acquired a week before was the latest cutting edge technology and would surely be able to kill a lot of the enemy crew and do a lot of damage. He knew perfectly well, that in this endeavour, he was making his ship and his person vulnerable to heavy cannon fire from the enemy.
Nevertheless he continued to pace up and down on board, he believed in leading from the front.
Suddenly someone shouted from the west end of the ship " We got him, we got him, the enemy captain has fallen".
Excitedly, Captain Morris ran towards that man. However thick smoke from the firing made everything invisible. There was no way to confirm.
But then suddenly some deckhand on the ship shouted "Look, they are raising the white flag. Its over. They are surrendering!"
Captain Morris probably didn't know it then. But he had partaken in one of the last naval battles of the Napolenic wars.
The age of Napoleon was over .

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