A Company Court-Martial

Pye grinned. The chick looked so proud of herself, so satisfied, that one couldn't really be all that upset about what she did. She chirped merrily and looked up and around, curiously tilting her head in the direction of Roper. What a loud sound he made! But it was laughter or, something good anyway, so she continued. She soon resembled a wet ball of fluff.

"Keep on teachin' 'er that she can do that. Jus' don't come o'er to me ter complain, when she does." Pye said with a soft laugh.

"She was s'posed to drink it," Cotton said. "Not go swimmin' in it - she'm a chick, not a duck, ain't she? Might jus' give 'er water next time."

".. Don't think she meant to voice her opinion about your tea, Cotton. Give 'er some time. She'll be set to rights.." Pye smiled and tapped his chick over her head.

"..Anybody know.. wot' t' Portuguese do... for real. Couse I heard rumours..."

"The Portugee? I've heard about it, but I don't know for real - don't think I want to, neither."

The chick had splashed what was left of the tea out of his palm by now and he carefully set the tiny thing down on the grass and wiped his hand on his trousers.

"...wot's do we do if we... like come across 'em.. when we scout? Do we leave it.... n' jus' go on? Or are we suppose to do sumthing?" Pye looked at Cotton and then at Roper. "..'s there any orders.. ter deal with that?"

The chick chirped and looked willing to drink some more now, looking up at Cotton pleadingly.

"Ain't anythin' we can do, not really," Cotton said. "Or d'you mean the Portuguese theirselves? You want to tell 'em you'm British - Ingles. They don't know the green jackets yet. If you get into a sticky patch, Captain Vickery can talk their language, so just tell 'em to wait for mi Capitao - which is 'me Captain' in their lingo."

The chick's chirping caught his attention and he tipped a little more tea into his hand and offered it to her.

"..I meant us. So.. if we see t' Portuguese doin' it at t' French. We turn n' go. Right?.." He didn't care much for the French, but he did not want to end up doing something that he ought not to have, or not doing something that was his duty.

To the second he repeated:"Mi capitao...Ingles.. that will suffice?"

The chick drank greedily again, and this time drank most of Cotton's hand dry. She puffed up settled down and looked like the world was perfect for her just then.

"No-o," he said slowly. "Reckon if I came across 'em doin' it, like, I'd do me best to help the Frogs. I mean, well, I'd want someone to help me, if it was the other way 'round. What you want to tell them Portuguese is, Nós somos Ingleses. Well, I think that's Spanish, but it's close enough to what they say. Means, 'we'm English', that does. Just keep tellin' 'em that. Try not to get too far ahead an' lose touch with the rest of us when you'm scoutin' - though nobody goes off scoutin' on their own."

"But if we help t' Frogs, we'd anger our uh.. all.. oh allies.. right? Wouldn't that be a bad thing? 'specially as ..if they dun' offer help.. it'd be worse fer us." He looked thoughtful, scooping the chick up.

"I dun' have a partner yet, so's i can' go 'head further. easy." He smiled. " But 'id be careful not ter get lost.. or ter venture too far. Really, that. Not make a sound either."

"I don't think it's all quite all as bad as that." He wiped his hand off again and picked a blade of grass to fiddle with. "You wouldn't be allowed to go on scoutin' on your own even if you don't have a partner. You'll jus' find that someone get picked to go scoutin' with you, whether you'm partners or not. When you got more of an idea what to do, anyhow." He gave a half-shrug. "You keep sayin' that sort of thing an' folks'll make sure you end up goin' up one of the sergeants."

"One o' t' sergeants?" He scowled and shook his head twice, rather sharply." Why'd I go with a sergeant? Ain't said nothing wrong.. this time.. nothin' ter be given a sergeant as... well... don't they have other partners more right fer them anyho'?" He was restless. He wanted to learn, and he watched and learned too, yet at the same time, he had wanted to be of more use than to slow others down. He couldn't say that and he knew it would be long till he was considered ready. But he was young, and young men were rash even if timid.

"Well. Don't s'pose they will, but folks who do go runnin' off, it's summat the Captain can do. You'll learn an' get to it, even if you think it's takin' an age. We'll learn you right."

He looked over at Roper who nodded, and swallowed his food. "Gabe's in the right of it. Can't teach you skirmishin' the way we learned, at Cowes, but you'll likely learn faster doin' it for real than dodgin' round bushes aimin' at folks who aren't there."

"N' when I know wot' ter do.. " He looked at Roper and then at Cotton. He was right. It would take ages. "...how do I get ... well what happens then. Like.. do yer get a parner just one day all o' sudden.. or.. do yer train' with 'im afore?... or is it. .that.....how does it happen? Couse it's not summat we have in our ...we had.. they have in the 33rd. No partners like that.. so I.." He sighed. "I don't know." And he patted his chick. "...I dun mean ter be..askin' stupid questions... I jus.. would like ter know wot' t' expect.. n' how...n' ter know. .when it's... and how' it's.."

"You'll pick it up - you got a brain in that head, ain't you? The Captain let you transfer in, so's he must've thought you've got the... you can do it." He shrugged. "It was pretty easy for me, really. There was only a few of us Englishmen in the Company - still are - an' Roper here was already partnerin' Jacklin, an' of course the two Palmers was goin' to be together." He leaned back, pushing his empty plate to one side. "Gen'rally you end up partnerin' a mate, someone you get on with, that you know you can trust."

"N' when there's none else yer partner with.. or if t' ones yer get long with are already partnered...who's picked then, Gabe?" He knew both Newbury and Cotton were partnered of, or rather they were each other's partner. Roper, who he was getting to know, also was already with anothe rifleman. He didn't very much know anybody else. He hadn't hung out with any, or conversed with them. For the past few days, he hadn't even seen any other rifleman but Cotton and Newbury.

He sighed. It wasn't hard to learn. He knew he'd do his best in that part. But to do it with someone. It was easier said than done. And a chick, did not count as a partner either.

"I dunno. The Captain might shift things around a bit when he gets time to sort things out. I wouldn't worry about it just yet, not till you know what's what for yourself. It'll happen soon enough, that, after all." He grinned. "You can show Roper here what you do know, though." He whistled a few notes. "If you heard that on a bugle, what's it tellin' you?"

"Hope it ain't meaning shifting other men 'round. Don't want m' partner ter 'ate me couse 'es no longer with a friend o'is." He scowled. He looked alarmed when Cotton suggested that he tells them what he'd learned. Show it to Roper, who was a chosen man even!

"A.uh.." He stammered. He knew the tune. Just needed to get over his initial confusion at being asked all of a sudden. "Means.. cavalry... I mean t' enemy, it's cavalry." He looked up shyly as if afraid he'd said something wrong.

Cotton nodded, grinning in satisfaction. "Aye, it is. D'you 'member this'n?" He whistled again, a different set of notes, and Roper blinked, grinned and chuckled, before aiming a playful punch at Cotton's arm.

Pye didn't get what was so funny about the whistle and what the inside joke between the two men was, but he said a softer:" ..I've...I've discover'd t' enemy.." He looked at Cotton again and at Roper then. ".. Wot's t' matter?"

"Right again," Roper said. "He was joshin' me about somethin' that happened over winter, that's all."

Cotton lay back, gazing up at the sky. "A bunch of 'em came back to the billet drunk for some reason, an' I saw 'em from upstairs in the Captain's room. There was a couple of provosts comin' from the other way an' I ended up openin' the window an' whistlin' them two calls at 'em."

"Good mate to have in a pinch, is Gabe Cotton," Roper said, grinning.

"Oh." Pye understood it now and grinned broadly. "Makes sense.., n' uses other n' in t' field." He looked at Cotton. "..Wos' it a'right?" He recognised the tune at least. Two of them. Of course, to pass a judgement on how much he knew, he should've had quite a few of them given and him naming the meaning of each.

"T' provosts.. are near worse n' t' enemy.. any'ow."

"Yeah." Cotton shifted, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Hmm. Here's one I don't reckon you know yet," he said and whistled a different set of notes. "That's 'hold this ground'," he said. "Means, we stop goin' forward, the man who's bin loadin' just moves up to the other man an' they stop there, though they still keep firin'."

"Hold this ground." Pye repeated, and once whistled the notes himself, and several times repeated the tune in his mind. Ok, he thought he could remember it. He would just repeat it before going to sleep a couple more times, and then in the morning.

"I'll know it." He said with a sharp nod. "What more?" He asked hopefully. The less time he was not of use, the better. Wasn't it so? If it had been the 33rd, he would not have cared to be of use ..fast at all.

"Can't teach him all of 'em at once or he'll never remember them," Roper pointed out. "What we'll do is have a word with the Captain an' see if we can't get shifted a bit closer to the middle of the Company so's you can hear him give the bugle orders to young Cavender, how does that sound?"

"..I'll remember them." The lad protested. "'s all I can do." Because he couldn't exactly write them down. Even if he had known how to write, he would still have needed to know how to write notes.

"If ...if that puts you in a worse place, I wouldln't want it done fer my sake, Gabe. I can put an effort, if I need to... don't want you bein' set back.. 'couse I'm igno.. ignora..nt?"