An Interview With the Captain

Vickery was busy these days, talking with the various new members of his Company. The latest Rifleman to join was German, from Hanover, who had a brother with the KGL, and had deserted from the French to join the army that his brother was serving in. It made sense to Vickery; why would he want to serve in the an army that had invaded his homeland?

Most of Vickery's men were German and a fair proportion of them were from Hanover, so Rifleman Hartmann would find it fairly easy to fit in and find his own place. Vickery hoped.

He stood up as the Rifleman approached. "Jäger Gerold Hartmann?" he said, addressing the man in his own language. "I am Captain Vickery."

Gerold marched towards the officer he had been told to report to, a Captain Vickery, as he approached he took the time to look the man over, not too young and not too old perhaps this just might be a competent officer? He continued to march right up to Vickery before he snapped to attention and saluted with parade square precision.

"ja herr Hauptmann. Jäger Gerold Hartmann reporting for duty"

Well, he certainly was snappy enough with his drill. Time would tell whether that élan was matched by competence in the field. And would he prove to be a loyal member of the Company, or would he take advantage of their position of trust in the van to desert back to the French.

"Guten Morgen, Hartmann. At ease - stand easy." Whether the man would relax or not, Vickery couldn't say. The Germans were a very formal race, after all.

"I understand that you wish to join my Company. Why the 60th and not the King's Germans?"

The Captain had not been far off with his perception of Germans, the Hanoverian did stand "easy" in that he moved his feet slightly apart, other then that he remained ramrod stiff staring over the captains right shoulder.

"Herr Hauptmann, in my eight years in uniform I have served only in the light regiments, you under stand yes? I have seen the killing power of the bakers rifle it is the future I think. And if i am to serve...as serve I must as I know nothing else, I would wish to do so with a rifle in my hand not a musket."

Vickery nodded. It made some sort of sense, of course; the Light Battalions of the King's Germans had not yet returned to Portugal, so it made sense that Hartmann preferred to serve with the 60th, as they were the only battalion currently in Portugal armed with Bakers.

"Eight years in Light regiments? Then you understand the importance of skirmishing, and of keeping your weapons to a high standard."

In truth there was more to it then that, but Gerold was not about to go into that with an officer.

"Ja herr Hauptmann, it has been the skirmishing that has won the frogs so many victories. The soldier is nothing without his weapon and the weapon is nothing without the soldier, should either fail the battle is lost herr Hauptmann."

Vickery smiled. This was just the sort of soldier he liked: direct, able to think and not intimidated by someone of a vastly senior rank.

"You have come to us as a former member of the French army," he pointed out. "As a battalion, we have had some problems with recruiting men who had deserted the French. They took advantage of our position of trust in advance of our own army to rejoin their comrades. How may I be sure that you will not do the same?"

He thought he could be fairly sure of the lad's trustworthiness, but fairly sure wasn't the same as being fully confident. It had been due to those deserters that the 5/60th had been sent back to Lisbon even before General Sir John Moore had begun his retreat through Spain to Corunna, and they had wintered there as part of the Lisbon garrison.

"Herr Hauptmann, i deserted the Légion Hanovrienne when we came in contact with the British, if I return to the french i will be shot, they are not my comrades most, are not even german."

Gerold was far from surprised at the question, and had expected it. In truth, he would rather die then return to the French army, only having served in it due to having no other skills.

Well, that was true enough - it was be equally true if someone deserted from the British army, preferring to serve with the French.

"Does our position in such close proximity to the French not concern you, then?"

Of course, in battle, the French would be firing at them all indiscriminately. And should he be in the unfortunate position of ending up as a prisoner of the French, which was not impossible, the results would likely be the same.

"Nien herr Hauptmann, I have no intention of becoming a prisoner. I am no coward I will fight."

Truth be told, should the situation arise he would, more than likely fight to the death or be taken in such a state that he would not live long enough to be shot.

"Far be it from me to call any man a coward, unless he proves to be so. It is my habit to judge a man on what I see him do, not what anyone may tell me he has done."

So far, Vickery was more than happy with what he had seen of the man.

"I shall, serve the 60th proudly and show you have no reason to question my loyalty or ability herr Hauptmann."

He hoped he would actually be given the chance to prove himself and would not be placed in the rear guarding the baggage.

Vickery nodded. "Then you will be most welcome in the 60th." He would be keeping an eye on Hartmann, of course, but there was no need to let him know, and make him feel as though he was under scrutiny. Besides which, it wasn't as though Vickery didn't keep an eye on all his men anyway.

He considered for a moment. "Falkenbeck's partner Friedler was killed in action recently. I shall have to ask him, of course, but I think it would be hard to find a better partner for you - he has been a Rifleman for nearly six years now."

He cracked the briefest of smiles before it vanished once more.

"Thank you Herr Hauptmann, I look forward to working with him and killing many frogs, he also must have skill that will help me become a better shot. not that I am a bad shot to begin with herr Hauptmann... do not think that."

He was in fact a crack shot and could more then likely shoot the wings off a fly, he would however not brag to an officer, they tended to frown on that sort of thing.

Vickery raised an eyebrow. "How good a shot would you say you are, at fifty paces?" he asked.

Cotton could well have some competition from the newcomers, and it would be as well to warn him... though of course Vickery was interested from a professional perspective as well. And he hadn't yet met a Rifleman who didn't boast about his accuracy.

He scratched his head and thought about the question for a few moments.

"it depends if you mean musket or rifle Herr Hauptmann, with a rifle...could shoot out a mans eye without any difficulty, can also take out a running rabbit with out much trouble at that distance as well, with a musket...depending on the powder and the wind, could hit the man in the head."

"I mean with a rifle, Jäger, as we are Riflemen," Vickery clarified. He was pleased with the answer, though. "Have you used a rifle before? I understand that Bonaparte is not fond of them as they are much slower to load than a musket is."

He nodded slightly to the question.

"Ja Herr Hauptmann I was a Jäger for two years in the Hanoverian Army, I was also drilled with the baker in England before being sent out here. Before this I had been using a musket for the last six years with the French, Bonaparte is a stupid man who does not understand that Jäger's butcher french chasseurs and voltigeurs."

"Sehr gut." Vickery nodded. "I do not think Bonaparte is stupid. He may underestimate the effectiveness of the rifle, but that is not stupidity." He smiled. "Do not underestimate an enemy, and do not overestimate an ally."

Two years' experience with rifles in the Hanoverian army was good, even if it was not the British Baker rifle. And of course he had had training with the Baker since, which was even better.

"Do you have any questions you wish to ask me?" he continued, having asked everything he wanted to, at least for now.

"I have but one question Herr Hauptmann, will you let me fight? I have heard of others who have deserted the french that have been kept away from the firing line because they are not trusted...."

It was his one fear, he was a soldier not a laborer.

Vickery nodded. "I will." He paused and then made up his mind. "I believe I told you that I judge a man by what I see him do. I cannot trust a man unless I see that he can be trusted and therefore there is little sense in keeping a man away from the skirmish line. Also, you are a soldier. What would you do, if you cannot fight?" The question was rhetorical; Vickery did not need an answer. "I do not believe you are here merely to hang back and remain with the baggage."

He nodded to the captains words as he listened to them.

"That is all I wanted...and needed to Know Herr Hauptmann, thank you for giving me a chance."

"Bitte schön," Vickery replied. "I am always willing to give a man a chance. It is what he does with it that matters." He smiled. "If you have any more questions, you may ask anyone in the Company. Including me."

He snapped to attention heels all but clicking, he took that to be his dismissal.

"I will Herr Hauptmann, thank you" he then saluted crisply.

Vickery returned the man's salute. Crisp, smart drill - obviously from his background with the Hanoverian army. At least from the perspective of the Sergeants, he was going to be an asset to the Company.

"You may be dismissed. Carry on!"