Time for Tea, 11th June

Of course, Vickery reflected, Pye couldn't know just how different life was for the upper classes. And probably didn't realise that when he'd mentioned training in the ranks, he had meant completing precisely the same training as the men, from marching in squad to firing on the ranges.

"Yes, Zachary. But not just a hunting rifle." He nodded at Pye's own rifle. "I had to learn how to load and fire a Baker, and clean it afterwards, just as you do."

"You.... fired a Baker?" Pye paused. Now, if Vickery had not distinctively specified that he had done it with his men, he would have thought that some Bakers were somehow getting into the hands of the common, non military folk. But instead Vickery had made it clear.

"BUt... that makes no sense, sir. You'm an officer!....n' don't officer not..fire a rifle, even fer such a training?" Which was unusual in itself.

"Quite right, Zachary. But I am a Rifle officer, which means that I did all the same training you are doing, that Cotton, Newbury, Roper and the others did. It's something that all officers in the Rifle battalions do - it's the same in the 95th as in the 60th Rifles. As an officer, I have to know how to obey the orders that I give, so that I don't make some silly mistake and get you all killed or something."

And he had come perilously close to doing just that, of course, though he had had no alternative but to face down the cavalry and hope for the best.

"Yer wiser 'bout things then, sir. Wiser n'....." He hesitated , looking up at the man. "If I may say so, wiser than most who don't experience that. 'Couse.. you jus' know. You've seen it, like a..um.." But no example came to him. "..Just you know. An'.. thank you fer wantin' ter talk to us..an' don't mind that we talk as well." Because not many officers that he knew would think to do that. It was comforting to know that not every word of his would be taken in a bad way. There was no chance that this would make him feel equal to Vickery. No. The captain was still an officer, a gentleman and of nobler blood, but he was approachable. He could still be very scary when he needed be, but at the same time.. well he could trust him. He felt like he could trust him with his life which was different to how he felt towards other NCOs and COs. He would have followed the order out of duty, but here he knew there was something else behind it. Someone else.

"Sir.. may.. may I be so bold t' ask.. wot' do t' other officers think of this way o' going about things. Of having to learn with t' men, 'fore telling them wot' t' do?" His cheek stirred again, and with insistent pecking demanded the food. Which Pye was soon to supply. "An' um...if'n..I do somethin in return.. could I ..have some grain for 'er from t' horses? I'll...I'll do anything , sir."

"It is a very innovative way of working, by which I mean it is new and different. There are those who are suspicious of the Rifles because we work in the way that we do. They may even be against the tactics that we employ as well, of course. They are very much of the old school, of course, and may not see the advantages of the Rifles' system."

He had another mouthful of tea. "You make a very good cup of tea, Zachary," he said, lowering the tin mug. "And certainly you may have some grain for your chick. Does it have a name, by any chance?"

"But.. sir. Isn't new.. wot' is now takin' over everything?.. T' new that t' Frogs thought up. Are they afraid of rifle's new because of that?" He smiled, blushing though the compliment of tea did flatter him. " Gladly done, sir. Thank you."

And then had to repeat another: "Thank you sir. It does. She does. Couse I was tole it's a she. Sir. By t' animal doctor from the cavalry. The 15th? I think it was t' hussars of t' 15th wot' he was from. Anyway.. he checked her couse she didn't feel well, and tole me it was a she. An'.. well her name is Peggy, sir."

"Rifles are not in themselves a new idea. I believe they had rifles thirty years ago and more. It is how we use them and how we train that is new. And that we wear green rather than red, of course. I Understand that Bonaparte does not approve of rifles because they are slower to load, although that is outweighed by their range and accuracy."

It appeared that Pye wasn't as cowed by rank and authority as Vickery had thought, if he had consulted with a horse-leech from another regiment. Or maybe it was his concern for his pet's welfare that had over-ridden his nervousness in talking to the veterinary surgeon?

"Peggy. That seems a good name for a bird such as she," he said, smiling at the fluffy creature.

What Vickery might not have , perhaps learned was that the very same surgeon prevented the boy from fleeing in shame because of his coat being so destroyed and he himself feeling well, frightened of many things, among those the anger of Vickery, and of him feeling that he had failed the rifles by getting beat. The horse doctor had treated him much like a horse, taming him and calming him in a similar way and then supervising his washing just to be certain that the boy would not do a stupid thing he might regret later.

He was right however. No matter how afraid to address authority, the health of his chick had been even more pressing.

"So.. sir.. Napoleon, him don't have anybody like us, with t' rifles at all?" He was amazed that someone who was said to have been wanting to destroy the old order was at the same time so backward thinking with the new strategies...then again he was a mere soldier, what would he know about what was smart and what was not. He did not know much more than, that the rifles were different than the other regiments.

"Aye, she is a .. she's treated best she can be sir. Well best I can offer her.. couse she's precious. She got born from an egg. I thought ter boil that egg but then she came out so... so i did't of course." He smiled proudly. She survived imprisonment too. Was good lass. Been only a bit loud once or twice but... still ..we had luck."

"Bonaparte has his tirailleurs and voltigeurs, and you are likely to come across both of those in your service with the 60th. But no, he has not seen fit to arm them with rifles, for reasons best known to himself. Apart from our rifle regiments, they are the best Light Infantry in the world, although we have learned and are refining our own techniques and methods of fighting and skirmishing. And, of course, we are equipped with rifles, which have a greater range and vastly improved accuracy, both of which you have seen demonstrated - and have tried for yourself."

"Don't let her get fat, will you? Especially as you will be carrying her - I cannot imagine that a chick would be able to keep up with the march on her own, after all." He smiled at the thought. "And I don't suppose it will be the last time that an egg intended for the pot decides to hatch, instead. Let us hope it does not happen again while Peggy is with us, however."

"Sir. ..Why does he have regiments.. like us.. but not equipped like us... though I am glad they do not 'fcourse. It would not be in our favour if they did, though we are still better shots..and would be." He poused thoughtfully.

"Oh no, i won't let her get fat.. but I need t feed her else she could die." He nodded and looked at the chick who did not look at all bad off.

"Sir...we can't have any more chicks?"

"I have no idea - you would have to ask him that. It could well be the cost of a rifle against that of a musket - rifles cost more to produce and they are not so easily available, or available in the same quantities as muskets are."

He put his cup down and leaned forward to poke an errant stick back into the fire. "I didn't say we can't have any more chicks, but think of it this way. If we have to attack the French at night, for example, and take them by surprise, can you imagine what would happen if our presence was given away by the sound of several cocks and hens making us sound like a farmyard? As you have noted yourself, one chick is not particular about keeping quiet, but it is easier to keep one bird quiet than a whole farmyard's worth of birds."

"Hmm.. .but t' cost o' victory is worth payin... um." If that made any sense. He imagined a whole farmyard of clucking chickens and could not help himself not to laugh. He covered his mouth, dropped his gaze and grinned.

"Well.. they might think it's nothing ...dangerous. .if it clucks like a chicken." Though they could go to investigate in how to get their bellies full. Well, bad idea then!

"In the middle of the night if they are nowhere near a farmyard?" Vickery asked, one eyebrow raised. "Even the French are not quite as daft as all that, Zachary."

He was very pleased that the lad was no longer in awe of him so much that he stammered every time he wanted to say something, or got flustered when Vickery addressed him.

"Sir.. but they're just wild chickens." The oldest excuse in the book when someone was stealing proper farmyard chickens. "Jus' wild things." He added and smiled. "Ain't that a fair thing t' say fer them?"

Vickery managed to make the lad a trusting sort. Atleast towards him. While he did not exactly convince him that horses are sweetest things, he managed to convince him, that there were some officers that weren't half bad.

"I have never come across a wild chicken, and I daresay the French haven't either. You may not be aware that they do not have a Commissariat as we do; they are expected to live off the land. I do not believe that any chickens in three miles distance from a French regiment would escape the pot, so that many chickens would certainly give the game away. Anyway, I daresay they would end up in our pots first. One pet, I can understand, but I won't believe that every man in a Company would decide to keep a pet chick."

"Yes sir." He looked at his chick and appeared somewhat protective of it. "But...this'un. I can keep it, sir. Right? She's not destined fer the pot?"He looked worried about it alright. What if Vickery gave an order she was to be slaughtered?! He would eat any other chicken, wrench their neck and bring it tothe pot. But this chick. She was his little chick and she was not going to be eaten.

"I thought I already told you that you could keep her?" Vickery replied, holding his hand out towards the little creature. "There isn't even a mouthful of meat on her, anyway. No, she's quite safe - but I don't particularly want to see you adopt any more chicks. One is quite enough."

"Yes sir, only one. All other chicks are to be kept by the camp followers.... em.. Inmean. There won't be any other chicks to worry about, sir. Not comin' from me 'tleast. I can't be accountable fer other men, sir." Pye nodded. The fluff of yellow peered at Vickery and chirped at him. IT did so insistently and then just as suddenly became quiet again.

"Sir, if I may ask... wot' sort o' pets do you officers have. I know that yer bring your own horses.. so those count as pets.. don't they? Wot' ones do you have then, sir?"

"I would consider a horse to be a working animal rather than a pet," Vickery replied, amused at the thought that a horse could be considered as a pet. "Personally, I would have a dog or two." And that brought to mind the friendly mutt he'd fed some of his breakfast to, the other day. "Again, though, they're useful creatures to have around, so they are more than pets, really."

Pye looked at Vickery as if the man had grown a pair of horns when he dared mention that dogs were anything but pests. Of course the nobles owned dogs. It was not something unusual. But for Vickery to suggest it..

"Sir.. dogs... dogs ain't good companions, sir. They bite, they are vicious beasts, and they are always out fer blood." Though perhaps not the blood of their masters. To pye it was all the same though!

"They don't bite if they're trained properly," Vickery pointed out mildly. Of course, Pye's experience with dogs was likely to be completely different from his own. "They are intelligent - you can even teach them to do tricks."

He wondered if it would be possible for Pye to overcome his fear of horses and dogs, if introduced to the animals. Of course, it would have to be done slowly... and there were more important things to worry about, like getting him well enough to rejoin the Company.

" No sir. Dogs don't bite people o' better blood. But they have it in them to get at us...common folk. It .. it is in their blood, sir. Like 'tis fer them to fetch birds and hunt rabbits, or foxes. It's a nature that can't be beat." He shook his head. "Do ye own dogs, sir? You say they'm intelligent... it sounds.. it sounds like you have them at home."

He finished his tea and placed his mug beside him. He would go and wash it later. He would prefer to stay away from the surgeon as long as he could. He had enough of those, for a while. And with the expances already going towards his uniform, he could not afford anything else much.

Vickery raised an eyebrow. "I think Cotton would take exception to that, although possibly you and he have very different experiences of life. And yes, I had a dog at home, quite apart from our hunting dogs, although I couldn't bring him out here."

Tip hadn't been young when the 60th had sailed for Portugal, or Vickery likely would have brought him out, but that was beside the point.

"Cotton don't have dogs... does he?" He had ferrets once. That is what Pye remembered. But dogs? Vickery arched a brow. "Not.. a hunting dog? Wot' other sort are there?" He realised that no matter how much he might have disliked dogs, Vickery would still have liked to see his own or perhaps had missed him.

"M' sorry Why couldn't you bring him, captain?"

"I don't think Cotton has had dogs, no." Vickery would be surprised if he had; he knew a little of the Rifleman's background, and keeping dogs would be an expensive outlay for a farm-worker's family, even though they could be used to keep rats down.

"Mine was a terrier - more of the sort of dog you'd use for ratting. And I didn't bring him out because he was quite old, for a dog, and probably wouldn't have survived the sea-voyage to get here." He shrugged. "It would have been unkind to put him through that, at his age."