Time for Tea, 11th June

"That's good t' know, sir. Well, that you are well now. Better too. But please do take care o' yeself sir. Returnin' t' duty like me, too early.. isn't good." He said that innocently, and patted his chick, who stirred from her sleep. She chirped curiously, saw that there was no good reason she was woken up and went back to rest.

"Swearin' at t' French makes them angry... Angry makes reckless...Reckless makes for easier pickings, sir." He chuckled. "An.. swearing in French makes them stunned and confused too. Is we French.. or English? That's a thought that goes through their mind then 'stead of else!"

"No, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" Vickery could understand the lad's eagerness to return to duty - it was the same eagerness he himself felt, to get back to the Company and take charge again. "We'll both be fit for duty in a week, so we'll all go back up to the Company together," he said.

"You could swear at them in German as well, of course. There are several German soldiers - and German regiments - in the French service, as well as in our own."

"Together?" That honour the boy had been unable to imagine and it showed on his face. It surprised him again and again, how much the approving nod of his captain meant to him. He was not loyal to the army, the strangers, but he was to Vickery, the riflemen and his friends. The rest were there as a necessity and by obeying those, he was making his superiors happy and that was it.

"That.. yes, sir. It would be an honour." He smiled, and would have been wagging his tail, had he been a dog. "Swear in German? Ah.. I'll learn that too then. Though I.. I did not imagine I'd have m' officer tellin' me ter learn swearin' , or allowin' it." He paused only enough to look at the kettle. " Sir, would you want more tea?..."

And not for the first time, Vickery suddenly had an image of Pye as an eager puppy in a Rifleman's jacket, wagging its tail at him. He shook his head in bemusement. Cotton would be amused by it, of course. His soldier-servant had the habit of comparing people to animals, not always outside Vickery's ear-shot.

"That wasn't an order, Zachary, just a suggestion," he said. "And yes, if there is more tea, I wouldn't say no. Don't go using up your supply on me, though, if there isn't enough."

Pye nodded and was rather eager and fast to get the tea prepared. Even if those had been his last tea leaves he would have still given them away gladly. "I'd like it better if it's an order sir. Then we've got an excuse .. if another officer hears us and wonders 'bout it." He smiled again, with that look that betrayed no ill thought. "The tea will be ready sir, jus' need t' wait .. a little only!"

"No need to get all excited, Zachary, it's only a cup of tea," Vickery pointed out, holding his cup out. "Have you any more questions that you would like to ask?"

"Aye sir. " He took the cup to pour its new fill in it. He was silent through the little process. He then turned,offered the cup back, full to the brim. He had his own mug filled, only it was much less. "Do yer think, sir, that there are men that can't be fixed? That are truly bad.. n' no matter wot' effort is made.. they'll never be better?" That was a question for the books. Almost like asking whether there was hope for Hakeswill or whether he was a lost cause. "Do ye think um... that t' ones growin' up on t' streets are a worse character such as that? I..'s jus' wonderin' sir.Wot' you don't think t' answer you can jus' tell me. Though you know that, already. Ye'm being m' officer, sir."

Vickery frowned as he realised that Pye had filled his cup, yet not given himself a full mug. "Here, I think you want a bit more tea in your cup there," he said, offering his mug so that Pye could give them both an equal amount of tea.

"I think... I think there are some people in the world who are unredeemable, no matter what chances they are given. I would hope not to take any such men into my Company, of course, but in most regiments, you will come across such bad characters."

"Oh no sir, it's quite a'right. " Pye shook his head. He could not just pour tea out of Vickery's own mug! That would just not be done, could not be done! "I do have enough."

He focused on what was said instead and after Vickery had finished, asked: "Have yer had such men in yer company then? Before?" There was not a soul now that he could compare to a certain sergeant so he supposed that the company was fairly well structured now, with good to alright content, but not bad.

Vickery raised an eyebrow, but said nothing further on the subject of tea. He shook his head. "When I was in the 69th, there were some dubious characters in the Company I was in. When someone new joins my company now, I try to talk with him, as I did with you, to find out about him and to decide whether he will make a good Rifleman - and to try to find out a little about his character, too. I would never knowingly accept a habitual rule-breaker if I could help it.

"It's understandable sir. T'.. behavour o' yer men, reflects ont' ye even if everybody'll say it don't. So.. we's havin' to behave, else.." He hesitated and then a bit more quietly added. "Sir, do you regret taking me on? Yer knew I came from t' 33rd.. whom' you had some trouble with. Dunno why you said yes then, though I .. I was thrilled you did."

Even later, when there were some protests about him transferring, Vickery stood by, and decided the outcome. For that he could only be grateful. The captain needn't have done it for a stranger, but he did.

"Do... do yer regret it now?"

Vickery blew the steam off his tea. "Zachary, you are not the 33rd. I had no trouble from you when you were in the 33rd and took you into my company on your own merits, not because of the regiment you were serving in at the time. I have no problem with the 33rd. I have only had trouble from some soldiers in that regiment. I agreed to your transfer because I thought -and still think - that you could make a good, skilled Rifleman." He shook his head. "I most certainly do not regret accepting you into my Company."

"Thank...... thank you." Pye could have died happy just then. His fears about displeasing the captain to the extend that he would be unhappy to have him were gone. He was grinning and looking like a fool, but he did not care.

"I promise to learn all t' German you want me to , sir. Learn t' Portuguese if you want me to, and.. do my best with m' service as Rifleman. An'. .if Burke will accept me as his partner, I will do all that I can that we will work together well." He nodded sharply. "I promise you that, sir."

If Pye were a dog, he'd be wagging his tail so hard he'd probably be wagging it right off, Vickery thought, and had to try to think of something else, anything else, so that he wouldn't burst out laughing at the thought.

"One thing at a time, Pye," he said, once he'd managed to get himself under control again. "It's not so much what I want, as what will happen naturally now that you're in the 60th. As for doing your best, it will take work to become a skilled Rifleman, but if it was going to be quick and easy, it would not be worth doing. Those men who have worked at it are the skilled Riflemen that everyone looks up to and admires."

He hoped that Pye would be able to work out his differences with Cotton because Cotton would be able to help Pye - and Burke - to settle into the 60th, and could encourage Pye and teach him the vital skills that Riflemen needed. Burke could well do that too, of course, but Burke would need to settle into the 60th properly, and that would take time. Although, being a Rifleman already, he was a fair way there.

"I know it will take work.. but I'm willin' t' throw meself into it, till i'um good." He smiled brightly and wondered why Vickery looked so amused and as if he was struggling against an emotion. Oh, which ever it was, as long as it was not anger, he did not mind. If the captain was in a merry mood, Pye would have only agreed with it rather than question it!

"An' I'll...." There he paused and frowned just a bit. ".... I will need to ask Cotton to help...I will need t' talk to him first. Sort out our... the problem which I regret he had t' feel really. But I knew it couldn't have been done differently." He chewed on his lip. "I hope... he forgives me, sir."

"I think you and Cotton will have to talk, certainly," Vickery said. He had mostly got himself under control now, which was good - he did not want to burst out laughing in front of one of his men for no apparent reason, or for a reason that he couldn't explain. "As for how he takes it, I have no control over that. About all I can say is that he's a reasonable man and sensible enough that he should be willing to hear you out."

"He is a wise man, sir. Very intelligent, but then. .he couldn't be else, considering he's your batman and the finest shot in all o'.. world I think." To the lad world was what he knew, and so, Cotton was certainly the finest shot there.

"... Sir... do you know what we are to do now... after we return to duty. It'll be goin' after t' French again, wont it? Drive them all t' way back t' France." Which had to be somewhere either very close or.. a few day's march away. He did not know! Though there could be also that Portugal was vast, and Spain similarly so.. then.. well then they'd walk a lifetime back.

He smiled. "Let's hope you two can patch things up. I'm sure he can teach you to be just as good a shot as he is, though it may take a bit of work to put everything into practice." He sipped at his tea, which was just as hot and strong as the last mugful had been. "We'll probably be scouting again for the Division, letting them know what the French are up to."

He wasn't sure how Pye would take the news that France was a long way away yet, and didn't have a decent map to hand to be able to show the lad. If Pye could even understand the concept, of course - not everyone could, even among the Riflemen.

"Scouting. Aye, that's in pairs too, ain't it?" He was already wondering about his new partner. About how they would get along, about just wanting to see him first, better and get to know him. It was rather exciting to think that he would be getting a partner, finally. Almost like being told that he passed that very basic phase and would now advance to a new level.

Exciting. That, and he'd never really had his very own partner. He had stood in the same line, he had followed Cotton and Newbury and their examples. He had come along, but something like a real partner was not something that he had, personally.

"I can't wait, sir." He admitted, his smile still broad." I can't wait t' have me own partner an'.. t' scout like t' rest." He could easily have waited about talking with Cotton, but he knew he had no choice but to not wait that one out either. The sooner, the better."..Where is he...Gabe I mean. I haven't seen 'im 'round." Then again, the two might just have avoided one another.

"Yes, although there is more to it than that, of course." Vickery was already working out how to arrange it, what with Pye only being partly-trained. Of course, doing something for real was the best practice one could have, and it wasn't as though Burke was a green Rifleman in the same way Pye was - Burke had done some pretty tough things in his time with the 95th, so Vickery felt he could probably be trusted to help train Pye. He would probably send two pairs out, so that Burke would have some support. Four pairs of eyes were better than two, anyway.

"I am sure you will not have long to wait," the officer said. "As I say, it will be a week before you can return to full duty, so that is a week you should spend with your new partner, learning from him. As for Cotton, I cannot say for certain where he is, but I will tell him you both need to talk. After that, it will be up to you."

"Yes sir." He would of course need to find this Burke first. Just as he would need to find Cotton. Why could they not all be put on leashes so that they were more easy to locate. That thought made Pye chuckle, and then he looked apologetic because Vickery probably did not know why he was being all merry either.

"Um... sir, will there be presentations like.. um, you had a while ago, again sometime? Like .. t' show of wot' t' rifles can do, and t' competitions, and... and all?"

"Oh, I daresay we'll hold something similar in the future, Pye. You might win it yourself, even... who knows?" He was pleased that Pye no longer seemed to be cowed by the silver lace on Vickery's jacket, and was growing bold enough to hold a conversation and even ask questions without getting too flustered.

"Win it , sir? No. That's certainly not goin to happen! Even if there wasn't such excellent shooters as Cotton and this other man from the 95th , i don't think i'd stand a chance!" He shook his head again. It would have been great to win, but how could he, a mere greenhorn, ever succeed in such a feat? Though..."Sir.. could I.. ask t'... have additional firing practice? Ter better m'..aim. N' loadin' speed?" A bold thing to ask, but the worst Vickery could really say is.. no.

"Never say never, Zachary. I think you'll be in with a chance, at least, if you listen and learn." He chuckled. "I know I wouldn't win - it has been a while since I last picked up a rifle. But with regular practice, there is no reason you couldn't make a fair showing, at least." He nodded. "We will have to see, but I see no reason why you should not be able to have some firing practice."

"Sir. I will be glad t' practice n' I know when I test m fingers next, they will serve me as good as new." That he hoped and still wished to get fully even with the man who had caused his injury. He had nearly ended his career in the rifles by these simple few snaps of bone.

"Sir, you've fired a huntin' rifle? Ever gone on those fox hunts them.. m' i mean you folk have?"