swords are crossed

Giblet already knew that his own goose was cooked, but he gallantly attempted to fight. First he sent gallopers into the depot to bring warning. Then he called his scattered troopers to rally south of Friedburgerwart. Even as his detachments came rushing towards him, however, the Gallian officer saw the hostile dragoons dash through the village and wheel their sections into line. Knowing that his squadrons would never be able make a regular formation in time, Giblet gambled and ordered them to dash, helter skelter, into the foe.
Surprisingly, most of his troopers did charge, but many seemed to shout, “get stuffed!” and flee back towards the depot.
The foe made a short counter charge, but their mass and formation easily pushed aside the confused Gallians. Major Giblet had his hat shorn away and the epaulet on his right shoulder sliced in half. A Gallian dragoon grabbed the stunned Major’s reins and led him out of the melee onto a grassy knoll.
As the depressed and shaken officer tried to gather his faculties, he rejoiced to see the Oullette Hussars hurring up the road. Then his spirits were dashed again, as a couple squadorns of hostile dragoons caught the hussars still in march column and scattered them as well. Giblet observed that a particular officer, dressed in glowing white, seemed to be the spark behind the rapid reaction and energy of the enemy force.
Then, the alarm cannon and drums roared from the depot. “Finally,” Giblet told the few troopers who were gathering around him. “Let’s see if we can rejoin the cordon in time. Perhaps we delayed them long enough for Broglie to wake up and wave his hands at somebody to take care of the problem!”
They road back towards camp, and saw the other squadrons of their regiment formed up covering some infantry battalions deploying. The Gallians, however, made no attempt to advance to the site of the skirmish, where a huge, reverse colored Frankszonian flag marked the center of a reforming, and still growing, force.