Training Day - Meeting Riflemen

[Guest]

[Here is the general Training Day thread, with access to other events.]

The Light Company skirmishers were definitely handicapped by their red jackets, Williams thought. He wondered quite how a man went about transferring - not a serious thought, not at the moment. They would be marching out soon, to a rather larger battle than yesterday's, and he wouldn't want to face it with anyone other than his friends in the 27th. But in the long run, rifles could well take over from muskets.

The riflemen were proud of their work, proud of the performance they had put on, and quite definitely proud of their rifles. Some of them preferred them to women, he suspected, although Cotton had fairly tied himself up with young Maggie.

[Timothy Willoughby]

(Is there any sequence - what comes first, to last - with the happenings (noticed that there is a hint in others) - going by the list? or how? and in that, how and would one be able to 'play' in more threads than one?)

After some of the other, quite interesting of presentations - which had turned the new day into something of a spectacle, a fair for all, and as seen earlier, one that even came with drinks and little trinkets for the 'young and old' - the hussar saw to the next of the treats of that day.

His head did feel terrible in the early morning. He swore that he would not touch another drink for as long as he would live. With a little help, he had been able to 'sober up' and face the new day. Which a part of it was.. happening here.

(if little makes sense.. I can use the excuse of tiredness and welcome any answers as much as corrections ! x.x thank you.)

[Gabriel Cotton]

Cotton frowned at the new flint in his rifle, and gave the doghead screw another half-turn, tightening it as much as he could. He was not going to have the flint turn sideways in the lock, or fall out, if he could help it. There was, of course, always the possibility it might shatter, but you couldn't help that and there was never any warning beforehand that you'd chosen a rubbish flint. He glanced over towards the redcoats, wondering what they would make of this afternoon - and if they even cared. It was his experience that if you were ordered to attend something, you found it dead dull, as a rule, though thsi might be an exception to that rule.

[Timothy Willoughby]

He leaned back against a tree, hands crossed over his chest. Interesting how the colour of uniform could make one blend in, or if it were a wrong one, it could also make one look like the odd egg of the bunch. The palette here was red and green for the most part, there was a slight splotch of blue. The hussar grinned, eyeing the rifles with a good amount of curiosity, perhaps still quite riled up by what he had seen through the day. The Girandoni had also drawn a great amount of interest as bizzare as it was. With all of that, one could almost forget that there was a war waiting for them outside.

[Guest]

Lieutenant Waldegrave had been watching the Colonel with the air-rifle when he had been summoned to speak to Major Vereker. Now, he was prowling round, rather annoyed at having missed the climax of that demonstration. There had been a couple of other Hussars, but the Major had been specific about wanting the one that had been with them for the last days of the march. The one who had been in charge of that damned horse... And then had made such a fuss as if it had been his own personal property.

Waldegrave was on foot still. He did not wish to claim a mount for himself, so soon, and anyway, no regimental horse would be as good as Acorn had been. He shook the thought from his mind and carried on looking for Willoughby.

[Barnaby Hales]

It was definitely a day for interesting demonstrations. Grogan had to admit feeling a little impressed at how well the Riflemen performed, even though he'd briefly seen them at work in actual combat back at Pombal.

He spotted Williams standing in the crowd of red-coats and grinned. Of course he was not the only 27th Light Company man here. Williams was looking mostly recovered from his scrap too, which was a good thing.

[Timothy Willoughby]

The riflemen had done excellently, that he knew. He felt proud of the 60th, with whom he spent more time, but too of the 95th. The crowd had grown. Red back and front, it looked as though the Foot regiments wanted to see what the rifles were all about after all. Try a rifle, see how it went, see how different it was from a musket. It was something he wanted to test as well. Perhaps not so much the difference between a musket an it, but just how it would fire, how easily be shot, and loaded. And how accurate perhaps.

Red collar merged nicely with the coats. And the rest, well it was a crowd with tall and broad shouldered men amongst the shorter and less impressive. He hoped that they would begin soon. It would be a fine end of the day.

[Guest]

Among the crowds of red and green, the occasional cavalry unform of blue stood out. And there were fewer of them here, being not much interested in the skill of the riflemen, or anything but their own valour and horses, and honour. He did not expect trouble, and had not brought any of his men, but there were enough around, in case this youth resisted. The rifleman he asked knew who he meant, of course, and pointed towards one of the groups around a rifleman. "He was always wanting to have a go."
Waldegrave moved in that direction, looking for Willoughby.

[Timothy Willoughby]

At last. It was the whole day that he waited for this. Indeed the competition was enticing, and the skirmish a great sight but he wished to have a hand with a proper rifle himself. He'd seen the riflemen carry them, saw a few in action both thanks to Newbury as to others that came to their rescue.

A rifle. It was strange how the sole weapon had caught his attention. He'd missed The presentation of the Girandoni, not at all of his own will. But learning of it too late had left him not coming to see. Of what he'd heared it was an interesting spectacle and one they haven't seen before.

Well, now he was almost like a child who had been given his first toy gun, and his chest swelled with pride at the trust his father gave him. Of course, he didn't show it as much on the outside, though he might have been one of them who, though he had used a hunting rifle before, listened so attentively to all that was said, as if he'd never even seen a fire arm.

It was a lovely weapon in all and gave aim, where a musket never could. Slower to load, took more effort to ram, but it picked men out of a crowd, where the musket was as flighty as Lady Luck. The explanation was near over, and the first show of how to load was just in the process. Willoughby moved closer and glanced at what the riflemen had set to serve as targets.

[Gabriel Cotton]

Cotton hadn't expected this much interest, though maybe he should have. He grinned at the group of redcoats - and the lone cavalry soldier who' drifted over to join them. Willoughby had been interested in the Riflemen and their weapons almost from the first time Cotton had spoken with him.

"Loadin' a rifle is pretty much the same as loadin' a musket," he said. "Only difference is, it takes a bit more force to get the ball down the barrel, it needin' to be a tight fit to give you the accuracy an' range we was talkin' about earlier, and that you seen already today."

He demonstrated the loading again, going through the motions rather than using actual powder and ball.

"The thing we c'n do with a rifle that you can't do so well with a musket is aim - and expect to hit what we'm aimin' at." He remembered an illustration given to him soon after he'd joined the rifles, before he'd ever fired one. He indicated a nearby group, receiving the same - or a similar - talk.

"With a musket, you aim at them. They'm twenty-five to fifty yards off, good range for a musket. An' you'll be lucky to hit the rifleman." He grinned. "And with a rifle, you aim at him -" he indicated a lone officer "- an' you hit him. An' he can be anywheres up to three hundred yards off. Just remember, though - we only shoot at the French. Or targets, like we've got today."

[Timothy Willoughby]

Just like hunting rabbits or game. With a musket a soldier would probably have gone very hungry if he decided to rely on his weapon. With a rifle, it was an easy kill, the rifleman's skills taken into account however.

Just remember, though - we only shoot at the French. Or targets, like we've got today.

Willoughby grinned, and some of the redcoats looked amused. Of course!

Well not only at the French. The Portuguese rabbits, he thought, couldn't mention those.

He'd followed the motions of the rifleman carefully. Comparing them to some he had known just to see if they would come more or less naturally when trying.

[Gabriel Cotton]

"Don't forget, though - it's shorter than your musket, and we don't have to fire standing up. We can reload kneeling, like you might have seen earlier on." He grinned at the cavalry soldier. "It's longer than your carbine, though, mate, so just you watch you don't bend me ramrod, takin' it out."

They'd been provided with plenty of cartridges, and Cotton had managed to clean the worst of the fouling out of the barrel, so they'd all be able to have a go, if they wanted, and he couldn't imagine they wouldn't.

"Who's for tryin' it out, then?" he said.

[Timothy Willoughby]

Willoughby nodded with a short laugh. Will be mighty careful about that. He looked around. It was as was usual. Few wanted to be first, be it in the line of fire, be it when things were to be done. It was human nature, one wanted to volunteer for the try, yet at the same considered for too long till another lifted an arm, or made a sound to take their place.

There were of course those willing, who would be as quick to call out, as the question was finished. Willoughby hadn't waited for long, as if afraid that were he to wait, something would have him leave sooner. ".. I'd like to." He said smiling. "If t' offer's extended to horsemen as well." He added.

[Gabriel Cotton]

Cotton grinned. "Need some brains to be a rifleman, y'know," he said, teasingly. The redcoats grinned and chuckled.

"Right. Like I said, it's a flintlock weapon, same's your carbine. It just needs a bit more force to ram the ball right down." He handed the lad his rifle. "Remember, keep it pointin' towards the target all the time, 'cept for when you'm rammin'. And you others, don't crowd him. Us Rifles don't do things in close order like you do."

He pulled a cartridge out and handed that over as well.

[Timothy Willoughby]

"I'll consult my horse, whether she'll join to ensure I fulfill that requirement." He answered in good humour and chuckled. He weighed the rifle and held it more easily in his hand.

He didn't speak after. A first dry test, he'd done just to feel the rifle, and then took the cartridge. A process required enough of concentration, but it wasn't completely unfamiliar and not only for it being a flintlock weapon.

When first taking the weapon he looked as glad as one who were given a good high merit as reward. He was grinning through the process of loading. He poured a bit of powder in the pan, with the frizzen then closed. He held his hand carefully out of the way from the rifle's barrel. He poured the rest of the powder down the rifle's barrel and then with the paper scrunched around the ball, he pushes it in.

With the ramrod in hand, he jams it down to ram the bullet as far as it could go. "Ye said.. not ter bend it, yes?" He asked.

[Guest]

Lt. Jaeger was leaving it to the riflemen to show the redcoats how to load and aim the rifles. It would do the men good to talk to each other, and possibly make friends... and if some bright Light Company men developed a taste for the superiour weapon... smiling slightly, he kept an eye open for likely candidates.

[Guest]

There were several targets set up for the rifle tryout. Hagman was surrouded by a group of redcoats. He was talking passionately about his rifle and explained to them exactly how to load, aim and fire.
Glancing sideways he saw Cotton with another group of redcoats and the young Hussar, indicating into his direction. "Don't get bold over there, laddie" he thought with a grin "or I'll have the best o' ya"

(OOC: anybody feel free to join Dan here, either redcoat or fellow Rifle - as I could do with some support and audience ;-))

[Gabriel Cotton]

"I'd take it kindly in ye if ye don't, yes," Cotton replied. "Else I'll make sure it gets stopped out o' your pay, not mine." That caused some laughter as well, as Willoughby's comment about enlisting his horse had.

"Right, I know what you hussars are like about gettin' your uniforms dirty, but the best way to aim is by kneelin' down. Rest your elbow on your knee, line up the rear sight with the foresight, an' make sure they'm both in line with the target. Don't strain yourself to hold the position - move if'n you need to, to get comfy. An' when you'm ready, squeeze the trigger. Don't snatch at it."

[Timothy Willoughby]

Willoughby shook his head with a chuckle, but kept his tongue about the pay. He pulled the ramrod from the barrel and pressed it back in place. He got to one knee, and rested his elbow as was suggested.

"The money for the cleaning shall go out of your pay then." He added teasingly. But as he had grinned bright and attentive earlier, it was here that his expression turned serious. Holding his weapon with a trained arm, he placed his finger close to the finger. He glanced at the target first with the naked eye and without the rifle aimed.

His breath had turned more even and calm, steadying it as a cat did its body preparing to pounce. He aligned the rifle with the target much as he would have a hunter's. Then his finger slipped to the trigger. It rested there for a brief moment before it squeezed. He had pulled it about when he exhaled his breath. Steadily.

[Guest]

The crow spooked by the shot, flew up from where it was trying to peck at something in the grass. With a loud crowing noise it flew almost straight at Willoughby.

[Timothy Willoughby]

He had to wait for the small to clear sufficiently. A cry of a crow, had him look up. If it was that damned crow again. Last time he had thrown a stone at it and missed. If only he'd hit it. What did it have against him any how. It wasn't as if he had destroyed her nest or ... he lowered his gaze and looked to the target. There hadn't been any wind, which of course benefited the shot, but did poorly for the smoke.

[Gabriel Cotton]

Cotton, standing, had no problem in seeing where the shot had gone. "Good shot, lad. Not a bull's eye, but you got the inside ring. You'd be a marksman soon, if'n you joined the Rifles, I don't doubt that."

And a crow, startled, had flown up, practically in Willoughby's face.

[Timothy Willoughby]

Willoughby observed the target. The rifle did feel somewhat different from a hunting type. It could've been better, considering the distance and the lack of wind, but a fair shot was a fair one after all.

He ducked the crow, as it flew at him and fought the urge to reload and see if he could have tried to shoot game out of the sky. Not the right place for that. "Thanks, Cotton. " He had wanted to try again, but with the crowd it was fair that the others should too. So holding the rifle in his hands he'd waited that another was picked to give it a shot.

[Guest]

Waldegrave had seen Willoughby take his shot, and approached him as he waited for someone else to accept the Rifleman's invitation. That it was Rifleman Cotton did not embarrass him. He had done what was right, and presented the case before Colonel Edrington. That he personally thought the Colonel had been too soft-hearted did not matter, and the man had shown that he was of some use as a Rifleman - he had surely displayed his prowess today.

But Cotton had nothing to do with what the Major wanted to speak to Willoughby about. "Willoughby," he said,reaching out to take the rifle from him. "Major Vereker has asked me to take you to him."

[Timothy Willoughby]

"Sir." He released the rifle as Waldegrave took it, saluted quickly and stepped aside. He was startled about why he was wanted.

Still masking most of the confusion and curiosity, he awaited the lieutenant to lead the way. He had his shot and he was very glad he was able to test the rifle. A fine thing, that weapon. He hoped it wasn't, well.. he'd see very soon, wouldn't he.

[Sponsored content]