17th Juli 1809: Putting holes into things

Before he called out in front of Vickery's tent to alert the other captain to his presence, Captain Torrington checked twice. This was really silly! But going on as he did now was so, too. So taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders firmly, he finally announced clearly:

"Captain Vickery? Are you available?"

Vickery had been writing home. He finished the sentence he was on, capped the ink-well and wiped the nib of his pen, as he replied, "Torrington? Come in - no need to stand on ceremony."

"But every need to stand outside while you get dressed or contemplate military secrets with your eyelids closed to avoid distractions ..."

Edward ducked in, taking off his bicorn. He was still slightly twitchy, as evident from his immediate adjustment of his cuffs. but he had decided on a course of action, so he would go through with it.

"Vickery, I have a favour to ask!", he stated bluntly.

Vickery couldn't help chuckling. "I would not dare strip down further than my waistcoat unless I were going to bed. As for military secrets... I don't think I know any, not being an Exploring Officer, or part of the General's staff." He shifted his chair around, indicating that Torrington should take a seat his camp bed, there not being anywhere else for him to sit.

"A favour? You wish to borrow one of my men for some devious project, perhaps? Or to ask Cotton to try to explain to Rottlaender there is no need to rush about your tent at breakneck speeds?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his visitor in curiosity.

Edward raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"You think he can do that? Although, truth be told, one gets rather used to it and the excellent service it provides. And it certainly teaches you not to leave anything breakable in unfortunate positions." Gently teasing, he added: "Also useful in case of an ox passing by ..."

Sighing and dropping the banter again, he said more seriously:

"In a manner of speaking, I wish to borrow somebody for a devious project. It occurred to me that it is fairly ridiculous to be attached to a rifle regiment and not to have any working knowledge of their beloved weapon. Since there is only the solution to remove myself to the artillery or learn, and I quite value my hearing ..."

He shrugged. "I need to find a teacher. And a rifle, for that matter."

"That ox... Do you know, some of the bruises he left me are still visible?" Vickery grew serious. "I should be happy to teach you - you know that officers of the Rifles must learn in the ranks upon joining their regiment? Or should you prefer to borrow Cotton?"

"I'm sorry to hear that. It was a most unfortunate encounter."

Edward pulled a face.

"While I don't doubt Cotton's excellence with a rifle ... Would you be so kind?"

He looked embarrased.

"Cotton has very tactfully set me right on several things already - now to confess that I can't even shoot might make him and the other men really wonder why I call myself an officer."

"Why would it? After all, I think that the vast majority of Line officers have never fired a rifle unless to bring down a pheasant or two in the winter months at home." He got up. "If you will excuse me one moment, I will arrange for the loan of two rifles, and have a target set up outside the camp. with the proviso that we are to be left alone."

Perhaps because of the simple fact that despite title and money Edward hadn't bought his commission and expected of himself a higher level of professionalism as of some officers he had frankly labelled as being here on a repairing lease in his mind. And since he expected the riflemen to take an interest inhis profession, it seemed only reasonable that he should do the same in theirs, especially since it was clearly of some importance here to guarantee his further unharmed existence.

With a grateful nod, he stepped back.

"Thank you. While I don't mind doing my share to rise the moral, I would indeed prefer to give them something of higher value to laugh about than my first clumsy attempts."

"Laughing at a highly skilled Engineering officer should certainly be discouraged as much as possible," Vickery replied dryly, stepping out of the tent. He returned a few moments later, bearing two rifles and two cartridge boxes.

"Cotton should have a target set up in a few minutes," he said, holding one of the rifles out for Torrington to take.

Edward took one of the rifles carefully; not with awe or any other kind of fear or reference - he was an intelligent man, after all, and knew that unless the rifle was loaded (in case of which he was cautious enough to keep the barrel aimed away from Vickery and anything that looked valuable), the worst that could happen was a bruise to his foot because he dropped it. And even if it was loaded, it would only fire when certain conditions were met, which he simply had to avoid until he was ready. No, he was simply curious, paying attention to each detail.

"Heavier than I thought ...", he commented, glancing at the lock.

Vickery smiled. "I am given to understand that it weighs about the same as a musket, despite the shorter barrel, as the barrel walls are thicker. There is also the rifling. I should think that a fowling piece is lighter, though." He smiled. "I shall not insult your intelligence by informing you that a Baker's mechanism is virtually the same as a musket's, or a pistol's, and will merely point out that the ramrod is much longer than your pistol's."

The engineer located said piece of equipment, then took the rifle up into the crook of one arm, careful not to knock the barrel against anything, and opened the pan. His movements were a tiny bit awkward - he had not much experience with fowling pieces either, hunting not being a favourite with him - and although the rifle was shorter than a musket, it was still considerably longer than a pistol.

"Do I load it like a pistol or is there something I need to know? You load with a cartridge?"

"It's loaded pretty much the same way - though the ball takes more force to ram home, because of the rifling." Vickery smiled, and held up a mallet. "They used to issue these, but don't any more because they were discovered not to be needed. You might find you need it, when it comes to actually loading, however."

He laid it aside, and moved to stand opposite Torrington so that the officer could see what he was doing. "Oh. You'll need this, too," he added, and slipped one of the cartridge cross-belts off his shoulder and held it out. "It goes over the left shoulder so the cartouche is on your right side - all the loading is done with the right hand."

The engineer put the rifle down and equipped himself with the cross-belt, shrugging until it sat comfortably over his uniform coat.

He took the rifle again, pulled out a cartridge and then looked at it doubtfully.

"And now I'm supposed to bite it open somehow, right?"

It did not sound very appealling. He knew that gunpowder wasn't the most healthiest stuff to ingest, and that it tasted rather vile - having studied with some enterprising artillery men had provided one very memorable episode to learn that.

"Not in here, if you don't mind - I would rather not put holes in the canvas. I thought we'd run through it dry, just to get used to it, and then go and fire at a target." Vickery smiled.

"You start by making sure that the lock is at half-cock, with the frizzen forward, like so." He pulled the hammer back until there was a definite click. "Then take a cartridge out - wait until we're outside before you use a real one, do."

Edward put the cartridge back, fumbling it into the pouch again.

"Alright - hammer back until it is at half-cock. Pretend I have a cartridge taken."

He looked at Vickery expectantly.

"Bite the end off - the twisted end, not the other - and spit the paper out. Shake a little powder into the pan, and pull the frizzen back," he continued, demonstrating.

"Remember you're holding an open cartridge, and keep it upright, or you'll have powder everywhere," he added. "Then cast about - all that means is that the butt of the rifle goes down to the ground by your left foot, with the ramrod where you can get to it."

"Alright, powder in."

He mimicked.

"Then I just leave the pan like this?"

"No - close the frizzen or the powder will end up all over the ground and nothing will happen when you wish to fire." He moved his hand to allow Torrington to see. "As I said, it is exactly the same principle as firing a pistol."

"I usually load and then prim the pan, when I can hold it straight again ..."

He had supposed that he would have to cover the pan again, but as Vickery hadn't said, he had asked to be sure.

He closed the frizzen, then put the rifle down like Vickery had told him to.

"The rest of the cartridge goes in next?"

"Well, that works as well, of course. But it is easier to prime then load when using a rifle." He nodded. "Just pour the powder down the barrel. And then you'd crush the cartridge paper - the empty tube - and put that down the barrel too. It should still have the ball in, at the sealed end, and the paper acts as wadding."

He demonstrated. "Then pull the ramrod out - mind the ridgepole, please - spin it so the flared end goes into the barrel, and ram the ball and wadding home."

Unaccustomed to the length of the ramrod, Edward handled it decidedly less gracefully than Vickery, but he managed to copy the motions without dropping anything or injuring himself or anybody else. When the ramrod was in, he took notice how deep it had gone, unconsciously calculating the distance between but and end of barrel, then pulled it out and replaced it again.

"How many recruts manage to knock of their hats with this?", he inquired, quite glad he had not had to wear his own for the first try.

"Fewer than you would think, I suspect - although of course they wear a shako and not a cocked hat." Vickery couldn't help giving a rueful smile. "I suspect that is why we Rifle officers do not wear cocked hats, either. It would be entirely too entertaining for the men otherwise."

he replaced the ramrod of his own borrowed rifle. "Now, of course, you have a loaded rifle - or would have, were we actually using powder and ball. It remains only to bring it up to make ready, present it and fire." He did so, the sparks falling into an empty pan.

Edward did the same, shrugging to place the barrel into a more comfortable position against his shoulder. He took a moment to find his aim - here he found a rifle indeed rather different to a pistol - moved his shoulder and hand again until he had found a position where he could hold it steadily, took aim again, then 'fired'.

"I guess that will need practice a bit ... "

He smiled ruefully. He thought he had not flinched when the firestone had struck so relatively close to his eyes.