By Joseph G. Bilby The French advanced swiftly, with men yelling “Hurrah” and officers shouting encouragement. They knew the British were to the front, somewhere, although they could not see them yet, and they expected to roll over the enemy in an impetuous, distinctively Gallic tide. As the Frenchmen swept forward, a line of redcoats arose from the reverse slope of a slight rise a hundred yards to their front as if out of nowhere. Startled, the advance continued, somewhat nervously, as the


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