Jean lay tiredly on his bed roll inside the ragged, two person tent. His stomach twisted into painful knots as the terrible feeling of starvation ate away at his innards. It had been days since he had eaten a proper meal, and he felt as weak as a newborn baby.
Tired, hungry groans erupted from the man who lay in the tent with him. “I would kill for some food right now,” he groaned. “Damn those Cossacks!”
“Killing takes energy, Calvet,” Jean responded with a weak sigh.
Calvet groaned, and Jean heard the rustle of a bed roll as Calvet rolled over to look at him. “I’ve been hearing...” Calvet began quietly, “...I’ve been hearing that some of our soldiers have been leaving at night.”
Jean turned on his side to look back at him. He raised a eyebrow. “Why?” he asked. Disbelief filled his voice. “There’s no food out there. The Cossacks  are burning their own villages and crops as they retreat farther back into Russia. ”
Calvet shrugged. “I don’t know, but it does seem that some of our comrades aren’t as hungry as the rest of us. It also seems as if the Grande Armee grows smaller and smaller every day. I have heard that we have lost over 380,000 men and 100,000 have been captured since we first entered Russia at the end of June.”
Jean sighed loudly and rolled away from Calvet, still not believing his nonsense. “It’s as cold as winter out there even though it is still only November,” Jean stated. “You’d have to be an idiot to go out there and face hypothermia.”
“Or maybe, my friend,” Calvet said with the hint of a smile in his voice, “you’d have to be an idiot to not go out there. We must find something to fill our starving bellies.”
I’m too exhausted for this, Jean thought. He let out a heavy sigh. There was no way he’d be able to get out of this.
***
“We need to stay quiet,” Calvet whispered lightly as the two men crawled quietly out of their cramped tent.
Jean swiftly nodded in understanding, as he followed the other man through the camp. They couldn’t move very quickly. Quick movements made noises, and noises created attention. Attention was the last thing they needed right now.
The two continued to move as quietly as possible through the sleeping camp. Jean gripped the strap of his Musket Model 1777 Charleville, standard issue for France’s Grande Armee. His heart beat so rapidly in his chest that he was surprised it didn’t break through his chest.  Relief filled Jean’s chest as the two of them finally ducked into dark woods that surrounded their camp.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Calvet said to Jean quietly.
Jean had to strain his eyes and squint just to see at least an outline of his companion. He had no idea how they were going to find anything, let alone food. The quiet, almost eerie atmosphere made Jean nervous, and he almost jumped out of his skin when a flicker of light appeared before his eyes. He had to blink a few times so his eyes could adjust to the dim light.
“Forgot I had some matches,” Calvet said with a slight chuckle.
Jean sighed and pinched the bridge between his eyes.“Let's just get this over with.”
A smile broke across Clavet’s face. He gestured for Jean to follow, and the two men began their journey through the dark woods.
***
“I’m exhausted,” Calvet mumbled.
Jean’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. They’d been walking around for what felt like hours, and had seen nothing. Jean’s legs felt like pudding. 
There really isn’t anything out here, Jean thought to himself. His thoughts drifted.
Jean was quickly zapped back to reality when he heard the sound of movement behind him.
Calvet quickly grasped Jean’s arm and whispered, “Get ready to shoot.”
Jean nodded and slung off the rifle he had strapped to his back. With fumbling fingers Jean tried to load it as quickly as he could.
BANG!
A loud gasp erupted from Calvet, and Jean watched in horror as Calvet crumbled to the ground, blood oozing out of a large hole in his shoulder. Jean’s senses went into overdrive, and he readied his gun. He could hear loud voices coming towards them, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.
“C...cossacks!” Calvet stammered through painful breathes. “G...go!”
BANG!
Another gun went off, and the voices got closer. Fear struck Jean, his heart was beating as fast as a drum, and he was a stiff as a statue. The voices got closer. Jean tried to aim his rifle, but he was shaking so much he was scared he would end up shooting himself by accident.
He held his breath as four Russian men emerged from the trees. The tall bearded men, their expressions dark, stared at the two French soldiers.
The taller of the four men angrily yelled something at Calvet and Jean.
Jean stood dumbfounded, not understanding, but he let go of the rifle that he held in his hands. It hit the ground with a loud thud, and one of the Cossacks picked it up. The man examined it with interest and then pointed in at Jean, gesturing for him to drop to his knees. The three other Russians talked loudly among themselves. Jean couldn’t understand a word that they said.
He glanced over at Calvet who lay only a meter away from him. He was still bleeding, but Jean could see the slow movements of Calvet’s shoulder, signaling that he was still alive. Jean almost felt relief, but that was to last for only a short time.
A loud command came from the scruffier looking of the men, and Jean’s rifle was fired. The loud noise of the gun made Jean’s ears ring, and a sharp pain rushed through his abdomen. Everything felt slow and painful as he fell to the ground. His vision began to blur but not enough for him to not watch as the rifle was reloaded and Calvet was shot quickly and went limp.
Jean’s slowing heart hurt like someone was stabbing into it, and salty tears ran down his face. His body was shaking, and he felt cold. The pain in his abdomen was numb -  he was numb, and he closed his eyes. He could hear the sound of the rifle being loaded once more. He thought of his family and his now dead comrade. He took his last breath; then the gun was fired.