Vasili peered over the rim of his cup at the worried faces surrounding him. The sound of twenty-two tired, dirty men sipping thin barley soup from metal cups reverberated as one continuous fifteen-minute slurp. The sun dropped quickly behind the hills on the west wall of the valley. To the south, the remaining sunset exploded beautifully along the leading edge of a storm approaching off the Gulf of Salonika.

"What do you think, Captain?" asked a lonely voice at the edge of the circle.

"I think it's going to rain. Brace yourself for a miserable night. Everyone keep a sharp eye for fires. The French won't be nearly as apprehensive or worried about us as we are about them."

"With a fire they'll be much more comfortable though," someone shouted, trying to break the tension.

"You know the French. They don't go anywhere if they can't go comfortably," came another voice from the circle.

"I hear they even have whores that travel with them, but only for the officers of course," a young soldier said, looking at his commander.

"I think we should form a raiding party and plunder their camp of wine and women."

"A raiding party? Why not just attack them head on! A Bulgar is a match for twenty Frenchmen. If he's fighting for the right cause." The anonymous voice was met with boisterous laughter.

"Enough!" barked Captain Hoxa. "This isn't some church social. Be quiet and keep watch."

Hoxa climbed on top of the center howitzer and straddled the end of the barrel. He kept a firm grip on the muzzle as the operator cranked on the elevator control, raising the barrel toward the night sky. He scanned the horizon with his binoculars.

"Somebody saddle my horse," he said coolly from his perch.

"Do you see anything?" asked the corporal

The Captain shook his head yes. "Lower the pitch so I can get off."

Captain Eumen Hoxa was a legend in Bulgaria. He won the Order of Bravery-First Class, Bulgaria's highest military combat honor, in the first week of the war. He single-handedly, and without authorization, took his company and outflanked a large, broken Rumanian column in retreat from Petrila. He moved seventy men and ten artillery pieces thirty miles in one day and night. The Cannae maneuver he executed was a masterpiece. His company opened up at first light and cut the column to ribbons, capturing four Generals of the Rumanian High Command in the process. His courage was only outstripped by his detestation for rear area commanders, which is why he never advanced above the rank of Captain. His reward for unshakable bravery and initiative was to be placed at the very front, facing a confident fresh army.