17th Juli 1809: Putting holes into things

"It is best if you lean into it a bit - it gives much more support and is far easier to aim," Vickery said, lowering his own rifle. "Should you like to try at a target now? Cotton has had enough time to set one up, and will make quite sure we are not disturbed unnecessarily."

"I would like to, yes ..."

The engineer took the rifle down again and hauled in the leather strap so it would not drag on the floor.

"All right, then." Vickery smiled and held the tent-flap open so that Torrington could precede him out into the sunlight.

"Thank you!"

Edward stepped outside and looked around for Cotton or the targets.

Vickery followed Torrington out of the tent, and nodded as Cotton came over. "I set 'em up that side of camp, sir, away from the stream an' all - an' I've let Sergeant Fischer know what you'm a-doin' of, so's he'll keep people away who oughtn't have any business there, too, sir."

Vickery nodded his thanks, and turned to Torrington. "Shall we?" he asked, adjusting the rifle in his hand a little so that it was balanced better at the 'trail arms'.

"Cotton."

Inclining his head, the engineer went to the appointed site and quickly inspected the target, then came back to Vickery, putting the rifle down and shaking out his arm briefly.

"Alright. I think ... if you are amendable, I would like to try on my own, trusting you will stop me before I do something foolish?"

"Certainly. Just try not to get powder in your mouth when you open the cartridge. I can attest to the fact that it tastes... foul." He had been trying to think of a slightly politer way of putting it, but couldn't.

"Take it slowly. Accuracy is much better than speed, after all."

Edward nodded and began to load the rifle as he had been shown. Although his movements were unpracticed, he did indeed manage to load the rifle faultlessly (although with a barely visible grimace at the taste of sulfur and salpeter) up to the point were the ball needed to be rammed down. Used to fragile equipment where things not moving at light pressure meant that more pressure would cause incalculable damage, he was hestitant to put too much force behind his shove with the ramrod.

Vickery couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "If it was as delicate as that, do you think they would issue these weapons to common soldiers? Use a bit of force - it is not going to break, after all."

Still cautious, Edward put more of his weight behind the ramrod until finally the ball was forced down.

"I was under the impression only the best get rifles ... why don't you just take bigger bullets, by the way, instead of bothering with wadding? The effect of the rifling grooves would increase then, wouldn't it?"

He replaced the ramrod and once again checked the lock, then took the rifle up, muzzle carefully towards the target all the time, and pulled the hammer fully back.

"it is difficult to cast a perfectly spherical bullet in the field," Vickery replied. "The cartridges the men use are made with coarser powder, as well. For real accuracy, they load using powder from their powder horns, and wrap the ball in a leather patch - it helps it grip the rifling and gives accuracy without too much wear to the rifle itself."

He nodded as Torrington finished loading. "You might prefer to kneel for this - it will increase stability and make it easier to concentrate on aiming. Of course, it is perfectly possible to fire accurately when standing, if you would rather not get your breeches dusty, or if the fashionable cut you favour precludes kneeling."

Edward grimaced.

"I knew at some point that little foible of fashion would come back to bite me. Quite litterally. Still ..."

He gingerly knelt down on one knee, adopting the stance he had seen the riflemen taking before. A shrug to loosen his shoulder, then he brought the rifle up and took aim, following Vickery's advice to lean into the rifle.

The shot rang out - glaringly abroad, as despite all theoretical knowledge the kick had surprised the engineer.

Vickery couldn't help grinning. "You see,there is something to be said in favour of my unfashionable preference for wearing overalls."

The bullet nicked the inside edge of the outermost ring. Vickery nodded. "I have seen worse. Pull the butt tight into your shoulder and do not snatch at the trigger - it should be pulled back in one smooth motion. Even the smallest jerk can send the bullet wildly off target. It is like trying to focus a telescope. If you are not looking in precisely the right direction, you will never see what you wish to see, and if something makes you jump, it is very easy to lose your focal point."

"It is rather different from a pistol ..."

The engineer frowned, obviously unhappy with his result, and carefully began to reload. This time it went a bit faster already, and his stance was slightly more confident. He took time to aim and get a feel for what Vickery had meant, adjusting the butt repeatedly.

When the second shot rang out, it was much better - not perfect yet by a long way, but steady hands and a very good eye slowly began to win out against inexperience and a certain nervousness.

"It is indeed," Vickery replied. "Apart from the fact that I think it would give the men apoplexies, I have no fear that you would acquit yourself anything other than honourably, should you find yourself in a position to have to use a rifle."

The second shot was much further in than the first, nicking the inner circle; Torrington was obviously very steady and had a keen eye.

"I hope it will not ... why, am I encroaching on their territory?",

Edward had put the rifle in the crook of his arm to reload again, but now stopped and looked up uncertainly.

Vickery grinned boyishly. "No, of course not - unless you plan to carry a rifle with you everywhere you go." He spread his hands. "I have already said that an officer who wishes to join the Rifles must complete the same training as the men, in the ranks, and that training includes learning how to load, fire and clean a rifle."

Slightly reassured, Torrington completed the loading (he got better at avoiding having powder in his mouth, too), and fired for a third time.

He would probably never win a price for loading, but at least he now had a chance if ever a rifle and an approaching enemy should be around at the same time. And he had to admit that it was more than slightly addictive to know that you actually were not that bad and could get better even with some practice. Now that he had a grasp of the basics, he began to understand how the rifle reacted to what exactly, and thought he might like to try the same over larger distances. Perhaps he could find a chance ...

Pulling his thoughts back from their daydreaming contemplation of the target, he put the rifle down.

"In that case, if your patience with me hasn't run out yet: How do I clean it properly, pray?"

"In short? By getting your hands dirty." Vickery couldn't help laughing. "A more accurate answer would be, with hot water, brickdust and the liberal application of elbow grease. Not altogether different from cleaning a pistol, if a little more time-consuming."

He offered his hand in case Torrington needed help in standing up. "Are you sure you would not prefer to leave it to the owner to clean? He was fully expecting to do so himself, after all."

Torrington pulled a face and accepted the help.

"I would infinitely prefer it, after your description, but ... I guess I will do it nevertheless, at least this once."

He didn't explain, but he had a feeling he did not need to.

"It has been my experience that the more one cleans something, the more the dirt migrates to one's hands. You may wish to take your jacket off for the operation - I should not like you to risk that getting dirty or your batman will never forgive me."

He gave Torrington an innocent look. "I believe I can promise you tea for while you are thus engaged and brandy afterwards. I am not entirely sure what Cotton and Rottlaender may have scrounged for dinner, but you will be more than welcome to dine with me if you can bear to remain in my company once the operation is complete."

"Your company has sofar been always extremly pleasant, so I think I can bear it."

The engineer looked at his jacket as if he didn't quite know how to take it off - although it was rather a quick internal struggle whether taking the jacket off more or less in public was acceptable at all and whether his shirt and waistcoat were in any way better suited.

"If you will excuse me for a moment, I believe I have an old coat with me - it has already been pronounced too clean and respectable by Captain Hunter, so I might as well correct that satorial mistake now."

"I have no objection to seeing you in shirt and waistcoat - we are hardly in high society out here, after all. However, if it will make you feel more comfortable, by all means."

He arched an eyebrow. "Do not, under any circumstances, let Rottlaender know that you are planning to wear it to clean a rifle, or he will likely have a fit!" He held his hand out to take the rifle that Torrington was carrying.

There was a decided twitch upwards at the corners of Edward's mouth.

"He would be here, have it cleaned, dinner sorted out and pouring us tea before I could finish speaking. Shall I ask him to lend Cotton a hand with dinner, though?"

He handed the rifle over in an orderly manner, waiting only for Vickery's answer before going to change.

"Unless you want just a plain stew, served by a Rifleman who knows he cannot produce the sort of meal he knows you and I are used to eating, and would doubtless appreciate being able to put more on the table than stew, by all means ask him."

He was privately glad that he would not have to ask any of his men for tools to clean the rifles with; they came with their own, stored within the brass-lidded compartment in the rifles' butts.