Training Day - the Girandoni

Five shots fired, faster than Cotton had ever fired in his life - or ever would again. He had no doubt of that. And despite the lack of powder-smoke obscuring the target between shots, he didn't think they were as close a grouping as he could get with a Baker, because of the decrease in power to fire each bullet. Though maybe it wouldn't be too noticeable or the first few rounds.

He wriggled back again until he could kneel, then stand and reluctantly held the gun out to the Colonel.

"Interestin', that, sir," he said and grinned at him, still slightly shyly, but it was more his usual grin than Edrington had seen from him - apart from maybe earlier today. "Thanks for... for lettin' me try it, my lord."

"Thank you, Cotton," Edrington returned the smile. "You are showing what the gun can do - which is the point of the demonstration. Do you think you could do better with your own rifle? Other than for the rate of fire?"

"I'd like to check the target afore answerin' that question, sir. Just to see what the groupin' was like. If you don't mind, that is, sir."

Edrington nodded: a very serious young man, who would not give a quick answer. "Let us have a look at it then," he said, taking the gun that Cotton offered him, and checking that it was uncocked.

Us? Well, that was different than what he'd expected from a redcoat officer - been led to expect from a redcoat officer, anyway. Did he mind that Cotton hadn't given an answer straight away? The Rifleman didn't think so, but then, he couldn't always work out what officers minded and what they didn't, especially when he didn't know them.

They crossed to the target,and Cotton examined it. The first two - no, three - were all grouped pretty closely together slightly to one side and below the bull. The group was only off by half an inch or so, which was good. But the next two showed a distinct drift downwards, with the fourth shot a distinct hole below the group, and the fifth one half and inch below that again.

"I think, sir, bearin' in mind I move every time I reload an' have to get me position right after, I think I'm better with a Baker." He frowned, thinking. "Though, if you was to get used to how much air gets used per shot - if you knew it was goin' to be the same every time, which you don't - I think you could learn to aim a bit higher every time an' try to get a better group. Though it'd take a lot of practise, an' still mightn't be possible to do."

He looked up then, blinked at the gold lace on the other's jacket and hastened to correct himself. "I mean, sir, well, I didn't mean you, personal-like. I meant, anyone who fired that rifle, sir."

Edrington listened and examined the holes. "It might not matter if a man was this distance from - you would probably have killed him with each shot, despite the loss in power. Or five men, standing in line, of course. Over a greater distance... You are right though. If it were more reliable, even in its failure, you could compensate." A smile touched his eyes. "Not me. I would like to try it, but not in public. Far better to ask the experts to show what it can do." He looked from the rifle up towards the hills. "One thing - it would not misfire in the rain. No powder to get wet."

Cotton's eyes widened. "Hadn't thought of that, sir. Imagine that - bein' able to fire in the pourin' rain, an' the enemy not able to do anythin' about it, even if it were rainin' heavens-hard!"

"I thought of it when I was on the way out here - there was a very nasty storm, and a French frigate looming up at us. But the battle would have been over before I could have got the reservoirs charged. Which is, I suppose, another consideration. It is not a weapon which would be ready when you wanted it, unless you have fair warning of a battle."

"There ain't no way to charge 'em, an' keep 'em charged. Leave it long enough an' you might's well not even bother. But if you know an' you've got enough warnin'..." He shrugged. It was good enough for times like this, but for actual battle, it wouldn't do it all.

"The Austrians thought them worth investing in, but they have stopped after equipping one regiment." Edrington's mouth twisted in response to Cotton's shrug. "It is interesting, and I think has been instructive, but - it is not yet ready to take the place of our powder rifles."

"I think... if they can solve some of the problems of it, then it'll be a right good idea. But right now, there's too many problems, an' too much that can go wrong. You don't want to be thinkin' of half a dozen ways it might not work, and that everythin' has to be just so, so's it does work. I mean, I know there's problems with me Baker and things can go wrong, but there's more that can go right all the time."

He trailed off, aware suddenly that he was rambling at the officer, and blushed. "Sorry, sir, didn't mean to chew your ear off." As though the Colonel was interested in anything he had to say anyway!

"I think, if they can solve the problems, it is a threat to all of us - unless it is our side, and our side only, that has them. I would not want to face a regiment armed with such weapons, that could fire twenty, thirty shots a minutes each, on target, before our muskets could reach them. The balance between musket and rifle is close enough. This would disrupt that."

Edrington frowned at the Rifleman. "But fortunately, the clever men who devise such things have not yet solved the problems, and may not do so during our lifetimes."

Cotton nodded. "I ain't ejucated like you gentlemen is, sir, but it seems to me that folks only go to war when they've got similar sorts of weapons. The French've got muskets that have the same problems ours do - they won't fire in the wet, stuff like that. They could have rifles like we do, but they ain't. An', well, it ain't like one side have got muskets and the other side only has spears and things. And, if they could make summat like that, on;y without all the problems, it'd be like one side having rifles and the other side only having spears. Wouldn't be right - it'd be too... the balance wouldn't be right, I mean, sir."

He gave a half-shrug. "Hope I don't live to see it, neither, sir. Wouldn't fancy me chances ag'in summat like that, workin' prop'ly all the time."

"It would be pleasant to think so - but history shows otherwise. Even history being written today. If the balance is in our favour, we will use it, and hope that we win before the other side comes up with a way to get level, even if it means stealing our advantage. You don't need the sort of education I have to see that - though it was as true in the days of the Romans as it is now. Only the advantages have changed."

Cotton shrugged. "Don't have any learnin' to know that-all, sir. Don't even know what side the Austrians are on - or if they're like the Germans, fightin' on both sides." He grinned. "Was only learnt to write me name the day I... the day..." Why couldn't he just come out and say it? The officer knew the day he meant, after all, and what had happened.

Edrington hesitated - Vickery had mentioned the lessons, but to point out that this was an unexpected benefit arising from his flogging would not be appropriate, even if they were talking in a remarkable easy fashion. He was tempted to say that Cotton, from Kent, did not need to read to see one of the Romans' great advantages - their ability to plan and build roads across the countryside. He would have marched along them in Kent, and would probably follow their roads here too in the Peninsula.

Instead he merely responded by saying: "Reading and writing are worth learning at any stage. As for the rest - it does not matter so much. The Austrians are on our side, at the moment, I think."

He'd never have imagined being able to talk to Colonel Edrington like this, and probably wouldn't if it had been any other situation. And he was an Earl, and all. It wasn't really so different from talking with Squire, back home.

"Dunno how I'm goin' to 'member it all, though," he said. "Have to see if'n I can get a notebook or summat, so's I can practise a bit. And, the rest mightn't matter, but... ain't it handy to know stuff, sometimes, sir?"

"I like knowing stuff," Edrington admitted wryly, "and being able to refer to a book if I have forgotten it. But not being able to read hasn't stopped you becoming the best shot in your Company. Or knowing all the things you do know, and remember. You haven't become less able, now that you are just starting to read." He hesitated, and then smiled. "I am sure that somewhere there is a notebook that you could use to practice in."

"I hope so, sir." He had a thought then. "I... that mornin', afore the Captain come for me, I 'member thinkin' about a story I heard somewheres, about some king or other who was goin' to be executed - though I dunno for what - an' they took him out, an' he was wearing two shirts, so as not to shiver an' make folks think he was a-feared of it."

He looked a little embarrassed. "'M sorry, sir, you've prob'ly got much more important things to do than talk to me about who knows what-all!"

"King Charles the First. It was a cold morning, I would think, in January." Edrington looked thoughtfully at him. "As for something better to do, I am - according to the programme for today - demonstrating the Girandoni. And I suppose I should see if anyone else wants to try it. But otherwise - I don't mind. And you didn't shiver, even though you couldn't wear a single shirt."

He'd been watching it, then. Somehow, Cotton had thought he hadn't - that he'd have been looking anywhere else.

"I wasn't cold, not properly, not till afterwards. I was fair terrified I'd scream or summat, and shame the Company. Never knew anythin' could hurt like that - an' you stopped it after fifty. Thank you, for that, sir."

(OOC - And now I'm for bed! See you around!)

It had not been possible to avoid, in a conversation between them. Edrington nodded: "One of the things available - from books - is the way things are done. For what you did, the sentence was - in the normal range. It is also - the books show - quite proper to stop a punishment early." He drew the corners of his mouth into a smile. "If the Colonel or officer in charge so decides. I know it hurt. But there was no need to pursue it much beyond the learning of that lesson."

Cotton nodded. There had been some time afterwards - right up until this morning, in fact, really - that he'd thought he was going to be seen as just another flogged soldier. But now, he was a Rifleman, and knew it - and all those who had seen the punishment parade knew it. And he was going to get his character back - Colonel Edrington had shown that he trusted him, which was something. And he already had proof Vickery still trusted him, though he hadn't thought of it quite in those terms before: he hadn't been turned off when most other officers would have dispensed with his services as soon as they could.

"Thank you, sir. An', thank you f'r lettin' me try your rifle out, sir." He'd never expected to actually be allowed to try it for himself. Watching Mister Jaeger's demonstration was as close as he'd thought he was going to get.

"It has been a pleasure," Edrington said, hoping that Cotton would believe him. The man was not afraid to have his own views, and despite their past encounter, did not mind voicing that opinion. "Now, if you want to enjoy yourself for a while, please do. Or stay. You can make sure others understand the Girandoni's peculiarities."

"Thanks, sir," Cotton said. "I'll watch for a bit, if you don't mind. He hoped the Colonel hadn't thought he was being too forward, talking the way he had. It didn't seem as though the Colonel was angry, or anything, and he caertainly hadn't said anything to make Cotton think that he didn't care or wasn't listening. He seemed, in fact, a very nice man, and Cotton thought that he could make a very good Rifles officer, if he ever chose to put on a green jacket.