Training Day - afternoon, 16th May

[This is the general thread for the Training Day:
there are separate threads for
skirmishing;
a rifle competition;
a demonstration of an air rifle;
a chance for other troops to talk to riflemen and fire rifles at targets.]

The afternoon was bright - no rain, but high clouds running before a wind that kept the trees in constant motion. The trees and the bushes would add interest to the skirmishing, Edrington thought - it would give a better idea of the skills of the riflemen, than skirmishing in an open field, and would also demonstrate the virtues of a dark green uniform over a bright red one. Hunter and his two rifle officers had set things up well, and now all he had to do was ensure that the Staff, when they arrived, had a good view of the proceedings, and someone to explain things to them.

von Lossow had been making his way toward Colonel Edrington when he saw the staff arriving and demanding his friends attention. Wise to the ways of senior officers, he decided to watch the proceedings from where he was. As the KGL line batallions had riflemen in each company, he already knew what to expect. Perhaps when the Windbüchse was being demonstrated...

Only due to the timely intervention by Captain Needham was Prestwich on time for the beginning of the training: he was deep in a technical argument with a Portuguese engineering officer and as usual lost track of time. In the end Prestwich dragged the man along, the argument still raging as Needham led them to the training ground. Starley and some of his younger officers were already there, and the man gave Needham a pitying glance when he observed Prestwich and his companion.

Following a particularly scathing remark, the Portuguese officer exclaimed in dismay and launched into a somewhat mocking monologue of his own.

As one of the men responsible for the organization of the event, Hunter was already here and had been for sometime. He stood not far from Edrington; Fernao was some way off, holding the reins of Firebird and his own horse. Firebird who did not have an opportunity to exercise today, was once in a while nudging the boy with her head.

Hunter noticed a KGL officer, who seemed like he wanted to approach Edrington but then thought better of it, as the Staff officers began to arrive. He also spotted Colonel Prestwich, with whom he had a brief word after the book inspecting meeting with Wellesley.

Vickery was surprised by the numbers of men - and officers - who had turned out to watch the events of this afternoon unfold. He had the utmost confidence that his men would give a good account of themselves as the afternoon went on.

He turned away from briefing his sergeants to find that not only were there officers and men from the other regiments of the Division, but that it appeared half the Staff had come along to watch. Well, he hoped they would be pleased by what they witnessed this afternoon.

Edrington saw Hunter arriving in advance of the staff and went over to him. "I did not quite expect this much interest," he said. "It is more like a fair than a serious demonstration."

Hunter saluted to Edrignton.
'It does have that feel about it, sir, but, perhaps, it is what the men need: a little diversion'. Hunter glanced over briefly at the Portugues engineer exclaiming rather loudly as he talked to Prestwich: it would seem that there would be plenty of diversion today.

"They had enough of a diversion last night," Edrington responded. "Even some of our riflemen look as if they are suffering from the effects of it. But the exercise will help clear their heads. Did you go to the official dinner?"

George decided not to contradict the Colonel for not only rather liked the man, he still was 'suffering' from effects of his own nightly diversion and was prepared to be agreeable.
'No, sir. I was not invited. May I ask if you went?'

"I was - uh, called away. An urgent summons to the Legion's mess." He smiled in memory. "I spent a pleasant evening in good company, instead of sitting with a group of people I could not converse with. You were lucky to avoid it. I doubt if you will be able to in future." Wellesley liked his staff to be not only competent but also sociable, able to mix with the upper levels of society. Hunter was - for all his strange ways - a presentable young man, who would be able to make himself popular.

A small frown creased George's face: he really did not enjoy dinners like that, especially since dinners he'd attended in the past were civil affairs, not military, and people tended to call him Sir George, which he rather disliked.
'Ah, perhaps, my luck will hold, sir'. He gave a small smile, hoping it did not sound too impertinent.

"Once we've left Coimbra - I doubt if there will be much society between here and Oporto. Though if there is, an invitation might mean a decent meal. But you will have to be prepared for it when the campaigning is over. Sir Arthur likes his boys to play their part in local society."

He looked thoughtfully at Captain Hunter. "A dislike of parties and formal dinners might make it difficult, as aide de camp. Why did you choose to become staff - from what I've seen, you'd prefer something more active."

Something flashed in George's eyes at being called Sir Arthur's boy, but his voice was just as calm as moments before when he replied.
'I'm afraid, I did not choose to become an aide-de-camp, sir. I recieved a direct order from the Horse Guards. I must admit, I am still puzzled at this circumstance'.

"That is odd, to be sure. I gather that it wasn't at Sir Arthur's request either. Someone pulling strings on your behalf. Improving your chances of advancement..." Edrington felt the Captain's genuine confusion and smiled.

"I'm sure you'll get used to it. It is not to everyone's taste, and I prefer this side. But it will be good experience for when you return to your regiment."

George was about to say that he doubted he would be returning to his regiment, but caught himself just in time.
'Yes, a variety of experiences is always useful, I find, sir,' he said in the end.

"You already have more varied experience than is the norm, I understand." Not with the British Army - the time with Sir Arthur might even be expected to civilize him. At least in the eyes of senior officers, who looked askance at those who did not fit the mould. Who could not be trusted to behave with proper deference and obedience. Edrington decided he would probably not want Hunter as an officer in his battalion, either. Brave - foolishly so, not unintelligent, presentable: but almost certainly lacking in self-discipline, and unlikely to understand the need for conformity and order...

George's hand went to the hilt of his guardless sabre: not a threatening gesture, rather one of remembrance. He wondered what exactly Edrington has heard of his experience; Wellesley himself seemed not to know anything about him.
'Yes, I believe it would be safe to say that I do, sir,' he answered matter-of-fact.

The crackling sound of distant rifle fire outside the city walls did little to disturb Sir Arthur as his sat in his room, dilligently working his way through the books of the various regiments that had been presented to him this morning. He made notes as he read - this being one occasion where he did not trust his commanding officers merely to give him a summary.

Hill had gone along to the training day to show willing, and he had given most of his staff leave to atted if they so wished - Sanders, Hunter and Bullen he knew had gone for certain. Brandon and Murray were outside, preferring to get on with their own work. He did not know where Stewart was, but neither did the question particularly trouble him.

Edrington was not surprised that Wellesley had decided not to attend. The man would of course be busy, having just rejoined the rest of the army. It was unfortunate, since it meant that the distance between them remained.

That unfortuate meeting - when he had been turfed out after only a couple of minutes, to allow the General to talk in private to one of his junior officers - still rankled, and his attitude towards Wellesley had not been improved by the news that Sergeant Guthrie would almost certainly lose his hand.

Apart from that the evicting of the French from Pombal had left three dead, and several wounded, and there was also the sudden death of Corporal Scott, who had survived the Pombal affair unharmed but who had died in his billet overnight. He had been a sober man, and his friends said he had had no more than a cup or two of wine.

Later on the sound of distant cheering, louder than anything that had come before caused Wellesley to raise his head from his papers. He frowned, wondering which part of the training day had received such enthusiastic support.

He rose from his desk, picking up his telescope and moved to the window - which had a good view of the fields where the event was being held - and trained in on the distant figures in green and red. The first face he happened to pick out was Sharpe's, which made the General start a little and quietly curse coincidence. The lieutenant was congratulating a lad of the 60th, along with Vickery and several other Riflemen. Now here came Edrington, all smiles which was an unusual sight for Wellesley, he is turn congratulating the man of the 60th... then turning to an older man in 95th uniform. Was he comiserating? He certainly was not congratulating in the same was that he had for the 60th lad...

They must have just finished the shooting competition, Wellesley decided. He had heard that there was going to be such an event within the training day between the best shots of the 60th and the 95th.

His curiosity satisfied, he closed the telescope and returned to his desk.

Prestwich had left Needham and others at the presentation straight after the skirmishing display: there was so much work to be done and he did not have nearly enough men to do it.

This was the reason he stood in front of Wellesley's office, waiting to see whether he would be admitted.

The knock on the door could only be from Brandon or Murray. Wellesley lifted his head.

"Enter."

Brandon came in.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Colonel Prestwich of the Engineers is here. He says it's urgent."

"Did he give you any more specifics."

"No - he refused to."

Wellesley sighed, laying his pen to one side. He had spoken to Prestwich briefly that morning during the handing in of books, but he had not got much of an impression of the man. According to Colonel Fletcher Prestwich was a solid, reliable, hard-wroking officer with his head screwed on straight - which for an engineer could mean anything from an excellent officer to one who did not blow up the wrong thing.

"Everything is urgent until they confess otherwise," Wellesley said. "Show him in."

Brandon showed Prestwich in. He saluted to the General who looked none too pleased to see him.
'Good day, Sir Arhur, I am sorry to disturb you, but I have a rather important matter to discuss with you'.

[OOC: Bullen's at the Training Day.]

"Good day, and so I gather," Wellesley said. "What is it?"

[OOC: thanks, edited]

'You are aware, I presume, that I have but forty men: twelve officers, half of which do not have any experience, and twenty eight artificers, and that is nowhere near enough. I can deal with the number of the officers, but the artificers are the skilled labour we will desperately need as the campaign progresses. Twenty eight, sir!' Prestwich was getting angry just thinking about this number.

'I have written to the Board of Ordnance, I have written to Horse Guards, yet it would seem that they do not particularly care. I shudder to think how many men I will have left after the first siege!' He paused taking a deep breath. 'Sir Arthur, you are the Commander in Chief, perhaps they will listen to you'.