The Middies' Berth

"I'm sure no army man could admit to that. But then, they'd be more prone ter struggle ter keep their food in, n' try ter find their legs than ever ter aim at anything from a ship's deck." He did grin at that. He saw something in the man's eyes that startled him. It was that emotion that he could not have connected with duty. The emotion that was ripe and strong both for his skill and for his place and probably for all that the marine was now. He didn't look like a man that was here only for the sake of eating and being dressed, but like one who wanted to be here and perhaps, were he told ill of his fellow marines or ship, he would certainly strike back to defend it's honour.

"Is your service.. ye think, much different than those of the army like you?" He remembered the marine say that he'd seen them when young, both the marines and the soldiers and probably he had seen the sailors too. "I mean, other than t' fact yer be sailing for most of ter time, while they do only when we need ter ship their 'hinds 'round to places." He was becoming too familiar with the marine, and he dared blame it on something else and ignore it for as long as he was able. Think of it as an experience. A one time thing that the group of events had set into place. And while everybody else was still far gone to come below, this world could remain.

"I dunno... They do a lot more marchin' around an' all that, and have ter know a lot more drill. And the only time they come aboard ship to get some'rs else, while we're aboard ship 'cause... 'cause we have to be, more for the sailin' like. An' I'd like ter see some of they Army men climb up t'the maintop usin' the futtock shrouds, with a musket an' all."

This... this was the real De Guarde, the one who used discipline and threats as a way of... of protecting himself, almost, from things and people he couldn't understand or didn't wish to. He was a nice lad under that, then, and Thompson decided he wouldn't mind seeing more of him like this.

"Glad I joined the Marines, though," he said. "Means I got a chance to meet you, sir. Wouldn't have had that in the Army, along of they footsloggers."

Means I got a chance to meet you, sir.

The youth blinked. Had he heard right? His turn to look at the man right at the face looked abrupt, near a bit too abrupt than he'd wanted. He watched him a few minutes, and allowed himself to doubt and think that he had only thought he heard it. And he scolded himself too for making such a big deal from it.

"Yer glad..?" He did not continue his sentance near for fear that he'd make a fool of himself, and this was a thing that the boy least wanted. Never to loose face and be humiliated. Though he had felt that it happened on Terpsy. Each time he was shushed away from a sailor, or a sailor was sent to do a job he needn't do or wasn't needed. He loathed those moments and men and the sailors who saw and were the reason for it.

He shifted at his spot and studied the marine a bit more thoroughly even than before. "Dunno'.. mus' be better. With less marchin'. Eh?.." His voice quieted down.

"Yes, sir. I am glad I met you." Though there were things he didn't like about the lad, but then nobody was perfect. Look at Vining, after all, shoving his things all any-old-how into their shared sea-chest, never caring if he messed up Thompson's things too.

"Might not like everythin' you do, or say, sir, but I do like you," he said, trying to explain himself a little. "An' no, I don't reckon there's anythin' finer to be than one of His Majesty's Marines. You get to see more places than them poor things in the Army, and you'm better trusted than the poor bastards who got pressed into the Navy. An' if I had to do it all again, I would."

"You might've chosen a better place ter start your career though, would ye not? Somewhere without t' man that had yer back of legs caned so that ye'r even still feeling it?" He didn't quite know what to make of it. Thompson's words were kind but had the boy more confused than if the man had told him he hated him altogether. That he knew well how to deal with, and it would end good only for him and not Thompson.

It would be a pleasant and easy ordeal, but not to be told something kind. One couldn't be mean long to one who was actually flattering them in a way.

"At last yer see. Ye are better trusted fer being a marine.. but t' sailors are not ter be trusted and aren't! Being pressed n' .. well being themselves! Sure some are convinced ter 'volunteer' .. but that's only ter get a bigger firs' pay.. they are as pressed as the wors' of 'em."

"Well, I could have gone all the way to Portsmouth to 'list there, but I didn't know at the time that I was goin' to get such a bastard as Sergeant Sweetman turned out t'be, sir, did I? And it's normally only the very new-pressed men who try runnin', anyway. It's just some captains never learn to trust folks, 'cause they never think that folks can be trusted. Though Captain Ramage let all his men go ashore, and never lost one. Don't think anyone could quite believe that, even him." He shrugged, smiling. "If a man wants to run, he'll allus find a way somehow, even with us Marines there to stop 'em. Clever buggers, some of 'em."

"True.. but if a man wants ter run and he is caught he will serve as an example to all the others, and in that not a single one of them will dare ever to think to run. And that is what those few deserter's purpose is. And if they strike an officer while fleeing... God help them.. for noone else shall. The cursed beasts."

Thompson sighed and turned to look at the midshipman. "There's summat I don't understand, sir, an' mebbe you can explain it to me. Why does bein' an unlucky bastard caught by the press gang when mindin' your own business turn a man into a beast, sir?"

"... because most of such men are cowards who flee before t' press. They are not against striking an officer, nor about killing one, if that may save them from the press. They start a brawl, and though they wish for us to protect them, they never think a moment that they should do duty for their own country and king! They are cowards, who can, if they were just able, bring cruel treatment to the officers, midshipmen or lieutenants, if only they catch them on their own. That's why they are beasts. They flee like beasts, they act like them when cornered, and they have no pride to speak off!"

"There's mebbe a few bad apples who'd do things like that, but most of 'em's decent, hard-workin' folk. Like... like Samuels. I don't know much about him, but I do know he's a tailor an' was havin' a quiet drink in his local tavern when the Press burst in an' took him. Or Jem Hewitt, who was took from his wife an' kid on his way home fr'm work one evenin'. Or Billy Barrow, who's as good a sailor as you'll ever see. Bin away from home for years on a merchantman, an' was nearly in sight of England when they got boarded an' he was pressed afore even seein' home."

" They ought ter have volunteered." He shrugged his shoulders:" 'stead t' navy needed ter press them. Now what does that tell ye?.. Cowards... for not wishing to do good for their land. We are putting our lives on t' line..but they. If not for the navy coming ter fetch them, d' ye think they'd ever come and say .. aye.. we'd like ter fight?.. No! They'd be right hidin'!"

"Well, mebbe folks don't want to join the Navy 'cause of how the men get treated, sir. Bad food, bad pay, never seein' home for years on end, thrown out like rubbish without a pension if they lose an arm or leg fightin' for the King, not allowed on land when they drop anchor. Can't have it both ways, sir. Either you treat 'em right and get folk to volunteer, or you treat 'em the way they are treated and have to send out press gangs. Army can't press, so they make men drunk, or get folks from jail, which is just as bad an' mebbe worse."

"'s stable income of food though. 's more than most of them are gettin'. Knowing yer get t' food. That's sommat that should convince them if not loyalty and pride!" He shook his head sharply. " They're treated as they are because they've been pressed. If they really came and were of good heart, perhaps they wouldn't be beasts. But then, we know they are. Chase is one of em too. N' he'd not stop at mockin' I'm sure. He's just biddin' his time. Else we could've said he threw me.. and if he did sommat else wrong, we'd have people believing!"

"Cob Chase has bin at sea since he was eleven or thereabouts, sir an' volunteered into Terpsy rather'n stay on the beach after his last ship was paid off. An' not all of 'em was as poor as me when I 'listed, neither." He shrugged. "But they can learn loyalty an' pride an' all that. 'S'why Terpsy's a good ship to be on - folks can be proud of what they do, whether they'm Marines like me or sailors like Cob Chase an' Billy Barrow."

"You're impossible, Thompson. You believe there be good in them even if all points the other way!" He looked near exhausted with trying to make the other man see, and more than anything having him show him to look at the other things different. Not quite the result he was aiming for.

He scratched his neck under his queue and shook his head at the middy, grinning a little. "An' you won't believe there's any good in any of 'em if they'm unlucky enough to be nothin' but sailors, even if they'm rated able, sir. An' I know there's sailors that even the cat won't tame, but most of 'em ain't like that at all. The most of 'em's just like you an' me, really, though mebbe not so lucky as you in havin' a bit o' money and learnin'."

"Don't ye compare me ter a sailor!" He snapped and then as his voice became softer and his glare became less he added:" I'm not like them. m' a gentleman, n' they are hardly that. I'm better n' I'm a midshipman! ..aye I had more money. .bu' there's other things that also make me not ter be compared ter any sailor!" He shuddered at the thought. Him, and a sailor? Never! He was a midshipman, a proper officer in the making and by no means something as lowly as those men.

He'd gone too far again, and looked apologetically at the lad. "Sorry, sir. Though I don't think we'm ever goin' to agree about them sailors, sir. So mebbe we'd best not talk about that any more... if so be that's 'greeable with you, sir?"

He hoped that De Guarde might learn the truth of what the Marine had tried to tell him, but feared it would come as a shock if he had to learn it the hard way, through being disrated and turned before the mast. There was nothing he could do about that, though.

"Yes, let us change what we speak of. " He nodded in agreement for even for him the topic was an effort to explain and to find reason and just to repeat again, while he felt his mind and thoughts were set to doubt by the marine.

"How long do ye think will take them ter set Terpsy and that other ship.. t' Frenchie, to be ready fer sail?.. How many bells now?" He shrugged his shoulders. It was a very neutral question and he was pleased with it.

He leaned on his musket thoughtfully. "Dunno... depends how bad they was damaged. The Frogs like to fire high, so I reckon Terpsy has to do a fair bit of knotting and splicing to get her rigging sorted out right. But the Frenchy might have to do a fair amount of pumpin' and filling in shot-holes, 'cause we fire into the hull. Um... mebbe another couple of bells. Though if they don't need all the lieutenants, mebbe you'll get sent for a bit sooner, sir."

"It would be fair nice. I can have some of em clearin' the things. Would make it faster if there were more hands at the job. Both doin' n' controllin' t' whole process!"

Nods subtly and leans against the wooden wall yet again:" Ye gather all ye can from your fellow marines. 'bout how it went and what happened allright? You can tell me of it, once we'll meet for me to write that letter. Will be something it'd be easier to hear from yer any way!"

"O' course, sir. Be glad to." At least they hadn't managed to beat the boy's natural curiosity out of him aboard Confidence, which had to be a good thing. And it seemed he wanted to help as well, which was something else in his favour.

"So where's the furthest you sailed to then, sir?" he asked, after a pause, trying to find something else they could talk about.

"Nothin' as far as ye've done. Wish we did, but we'd not even ventured too far from t' weather like this.. n' this s' a right poor weather. Mos' rain, n' storm, n' cold, n' uncomfortable." He rubbed his shoulders lightly and decided that he should not have been complaining as much about how the sky was treating them.

"N' we weren't often goin' of ship. Though, 'twas because you couldn't right trust any of the sailors not ter try and bolt for it. But of course, there were jus' times when yer had ter do it. No matter what the risk was."

Thompson didn't think he'd have blamed any of Confidence's seamen for trying to leg it after what he'd learned about De Guarde's experiences aboard the other ship, but that wasn't the sort of thing he could say, especially after trying to get away from the touchy subject of sailors.

"Mebbe you'll get a chance to see some of the places I've been to, in the future, sir. Mebbe even aboard Terpsy here. I reckon you'd like that, doin' some proper sailin', for once, 'stead of just beatin' up and down the same bit o' water, day in and day out."

"Aye. I'd like that. Learn me navigation better. N' know more sea than jus' what I do already. Learn t' other kin' of weathers too. n' clouds." He added with a nodd. "..not ter be jus' shippin' soldiers about, to where they need ter go fighting."

He was glad that Thompson kept from the topic that had earlier brought on the discomfort and somewhat harsh and ill mannered nature.

"Prove ter Mr. Yates that I'um better too. " But he was quick to avert his attention from the crew again. "...would like ter see that sand ye spoke of, n' more of these palms n' t' strange trees they might have, or animals!"