Civil war scenarios

This English civil war scenario, an episode from a short story which I’m writing, recounts how an officer in the Parliamentary army (what might nowadays be called the ‘pro-democracy Parliamentary army’) somewhat brutally recruits men for the army by subjecting them to the cruel realities of the battlefield.

It can be linked to my short story ‘The Chat Room’ which also features a character called Cali.
‘In the field, the men of the village were assembled in a line. All bore arms, but they were primitive, improvised arms: hayforks, scythes, spades and hoes.
Calithorpe watched them dispassionately. A troop of the King’s royal cavalry – nay, a small detachment of Royalist cavalry, maybe three or four troopers, would hack them to pieces.
First it would charge their line, and when it reached their line the heavy cavalry horses, trained to rear and kick with their iron-shod hooves, would smash faces, blind, break bones, and all this while the troopers would be swinging their sabres and slashing – slashing down into the flesh and bone of skulls and shoulders.
If they broke through the line they would savagely rein their horses around and attack it from the rear, trying to panic the infantry into scattering, and again their sabres would slash down on skulls and shoulders.
On an impulse Calithorpe turned his stallion away from the line and cantered about 100 yards away, before reining him around again.
He paused for a minute, watching the men intently. Some watched him puzzledly, some shuffled their feet and glanced nervously behind them.
Suddenly Calithorpe unsheathed his sabre and held it upright with the razor sharp blade pointing towards the line.
A couple of men stepped backwards with alarm and he noted their positions in the line. But another man – he looked more like a boy – in the centre seemed to raise his weapon and returned Calithorpe’s intent gaze.
“We hath almost a Noah’s ark here – two rabbits and a lion,” Calithorpe murmured, “yet all must be lions if they are to stand firm against the King’s cavalry.”
Suddenly he nudged the stallion into a trot, loosely holding the reins with one hand and still holding the sword upright with his right hand.
Two more men stepped back and another half-turned, as if seeking escape.
A few yards later he kicked the stallion into a gallop and thrust his sword out horizontally in readiness for the first killing lunge.
Someone towards the right of the line cried out “God ha’ mercy” and threw himself on the ground with his hands over his head.
“A God-fearing rabbit,” Calithorpe grunted – “yet the lion still stands firm, and he hath rallied more lions around him.” The boy in the centre of the line must have given heart to the men around him because they stood as firmly as he. Or maybe he had reshuffled the line, pushing the waverers – the rabbits – to the flanks.
Suddenly the boy shouted something and took a step forward, his pitchfork held out at a sharp angle – at an angle that would drive it deep into the stallion’s chest.
Those around him did the same and Calithorpe guessed that the boy had stripped any pitchforks that the waverers carried and had handed them to the men around him.
“The lion hath something of the fox – or general – about him” Calithorpe grunted.
And then, when it seemed that he must drive the stallion onto the line of sharpened points he yanked the reins hard left and skidded away – simultaneously leaning out from the saddle and slashing backwards with the sword.
The blade slashed into something – he knew not what – and someone cursed defiantly.
In this way did Captain Calithorpe Munden, an officer in the Parliamentary army which hath wantonly and recklessly defied the King in the cause of Parliamentary democracy, of the county of Norfolk, England, in this Year Of Our Lord 1640, determine the mettle of the men of Palin, Norfolk.
Also in this way did Captain Munden, whose fellow officers were wont to call Cali, find himself a sergeant, a sergeant with a heart liketh a lion, albeit a sergeant who hath a pretty sore wrist and a pitchfork which be slashed clear in half.’