Thursday morning before the march

Edrington rode forward, past the 5th of Foot, who were marching smartly in the wake of his own battalion, in front not by right of seniority but because Wellesley had given him the rifles. He paused to talk to their young colonel. He was, he said, amused. "It makes a change to follow someone different. And after all, we were young once - a very long time ago. The Old and Bold, you know."

Past his own battalion, and then on to where Captain Vickery was - walking today, so Edrington slid down from Bryony's back. "Good morning, Captain," he said, exchanging salutes.

Pye looked in awe at the redcoat that joined their captain and near lost a step, so distracted he was. He quickly righted himself and looked away then about. He remembered mention of one lieutenant, of the 60th of course, and wondered if he would see him today. Oh, yes he should! He felt rather daft to even wonder that. He possibly had but had been so worried by the lack of Newbury's and Cotton's presence that it went all over his head.

"Good morning, sir," Vickery said, turning to offer the Colonel a salute. "Seems to be another fine day today, doesn't it?"

Although, like Newbury's absence, Cotton's distraction hadn't escaped him, and he added mentally 'for some of us, anyway.'

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" he asked as Edrington slipped from his horse's back

Edrington glanced up at the sky and could only agree that it was going to be another fine day, and that it was a pity to spend it marching, rather than swimming. "I hope that we can reaching the campsite before it gets too hot - or at least before we all start wilting from it."

At the moment the 5/60th seemed to be in fine shape, though, so he continued: "I thought I would say good morning, and confirm that all was well. Our stay in Coimbra was - eventful, to say the least. You've had no problems about getting the men back from the town's delights?"

Vickery sighed. "We do have one man missing, sir. He's a steady sort, though, and I cannot suspect him of deserting. He was wounded during the fighting at Pombal, and I think he may not have let on how badly it was hurting him."

Though there was Cotton's worry over Maggie as well. And as Cotton and Newbury were messmates, it seemed more than likely that Newbury's disappearance was somehow linked. He'd have given the man a ticket if he'd known about it. He could only hope the Newbury could catch them up soon, before other people marked him down for a deserter.

"If he was wounded - you may find he's at the back with the surgeons and the baggage, and will catch up at the next rest - if only to fall out again. But - unless it is desertion - I leave that to you." Which was their agreement. "You have men on the flanks at the moment. We made need to strengthen that later. I understand the roads are going to get worse, and the terrain more difficult for horses - which may mean that we need to supplement the cavalry screen with more Riflemen on foot."

Vickery nodded. That was also the reason behind his decision to walk rather than ride today. Officers on horseback had more manoeuvrability over large distances, as well as being more visible. But while your own men might be able to see you better, so could the enemy. And if the terrain got so bad you had to dismount anyway, it was better to have made that decision at the beginning of the march rather than half-way through the day.

"He's a sensible man. As you say, he is probably with the surgeons and the baggage."

He considered their march. "If necessary, sir, I can set the whole Company to scouting and patrolling the flanks. With Mister Sharpe's men out to the front, you will have plenty of cover and protection even should you need to recall the cavalry. And my men can go where cavalry and their horses cannot."

Edrington was pleased with Vickery's response. "What you have at the moment should be sufficient - for today at least. The interesting question is whether the French - who must know we are coming - are going to advance to stop us, or withdraw to the Douro, and defend that line. But we shouldn't meet them today."

He grinned suddenly. "Though we said that south of Coimbra, and were wrong. At least that should keep your patrols on their toes: there's nothing like a close encounter with the enemy to remind people that they are indeed out there."

"A close encounter, sir? We have had a couple of those since leaving Lisbon. I am sure my men are well aware of the possibility of coming across the enemy and will do their best to ensure that the rest of the Division is not taken by surprise should we come across anything untoward." He grinned then. "At least our training day will have made them aware of our usefulness, despite such unorthodox tactics as not fighting nice straight ranks. They might even be able to trust us a little when it comes down to the real thing."

"It was a good day - I don't know if I quite expected so much interest in the Rifles. Your man Cotton did very well - in both skirmishing and shooting. And he tells me he is learning to read. I was impressed with him - we talked when he tried the Girandoni..." Edrington watched Vickery - he was not sure if Cotton would have mentioned it to his officer.

Vickery nodded. "He told me, sir. You wouldn't credit how happy he was that you let him use it. That you trusted him enough to let him use it." He watched his men for a moment. "I think he wanted your good opinion more than anything, though the rest of what he did came down to his own talent and ability. I don't think he was even aware that there was anybody watching the skirmishing. Or the target shooting."

"Next time - after we take Oporto, perhaps," Edrington said with a confident smile, "we must see if the other companies of the 5/60th would like to take part in a shooting competition. I would still back your Cotton, I think, although Mr Sharpe's man - men, and the boy - did very well, too." He looked back along the rank to Cotton, and felt slightly troubled. "He has my good opinion, of course. But the whole day worked well. Did you have anyone show an interest in transferring? As far as I know, none of mine have - yet."

"That could be very interesting, I think. And Mister Sharpe's men did very well. That lad of his who took part in the shooting competition managed to take the flag at the same time as Cotton did. Apparently, they both got their hands on it simultaneously."

He nodded at Edrington's question, and indicated the men. Pye's bright, unfaded red collar was visible behind Cotton's. "We had one man join us from the 33rd. He's bright, quick-thinking and very eager. I think he has the potential to be a good Rifleman, or I wouldn't have accepted him."

He shrugged. "Maybe we made a better impression than I thought - I was a little surprised his officer allowed the transfer. It has been my experience that often an officer will stand in the way of his men changing regiments, especially if they want to come into something as outlandish as the Rifles."

"You spoke to him, I suppose - the officer, I mean." Edrington looked at the new recruit for a moment before turning back to Vickery. "But sometimes even officers realize that a change is for the best of all parties, even if it does cut down one's own strength. I can't complain, having let one of mine go to join a Hieronymite Convent.... " He shook his head slightly at the thought: allowing one of your men to transfer to another regiment was less outlandish, even if men were guarded jealously.

Pye's distraction did not last, when he saw the officers' eyes on him. He wished he could have blended in amongst the others for he felt so small to them. His second thought though was not to disappoint his new Captain! Not do something wrong, such as stumble or trip. He did not want to be an embarrassement to such a great man as Mr. Vickery was!

He righted his rifle, straightened himself a little and followed in step with the others. He was thrilled he had been permitted to enter the rifles.

"I did. He seemed happy to let the lad go - not relieved, you understand, sir, or I would have had reservations about it. Just happy to give the lad a chance to do something else and perhaps improve on skills learnt in his previous regiment."

He looked a little askance as Edrington mentioned letting one of his men go to join a convent. He presumed it was a soldier rather than an officer, anyway, because of the Test Act. He smiled to himself as he noticed Pye straighten up a little. Obviously his observation of the lad had been noticed, even though he hadn't intended it to be.

Edrington also glanced back at the young man. "He'll need to be trained - it's a pity we are not going to have much free time before we see action." There is presumably more to learn than merely marching more quickly - bugle calls, and the like."

"He seems intelligent enough to be able to pick things up quickly. I'm going to attach him to one of our pairs as a third person so he can shadow an experienced man and learn by doing the job. I know most regiments send their recruits to their Second Battalion to be trained. I think our own Second Battalion is in America - and they're Line, anyway, which is no real use in this sort of situation."

And depending on how long this war lasted, the 60th Rifles were going to have to adapt to training new recruits on the job. Personally. Vickery thought that the sooner they got used to that idea and how to actually put it into practise, the better.

"I think a number of regiments are going to find their second battalions are too busy to train recruits. Possibly the 60th can set up a training Rifles company, if not a whole battalion. But that won't solve the problem of transfers in from line regiments. As you say, he must learn on the job."

"Well, even if their second battalions end up being too busy, sir, there will be a modicum of experienced men at the Regimental depot - another thing we lack. At least, that we lack in a form that would be any use to us in the Rifle battalion. And it may be that he will learn better on the job than in some peaceful depot no closer to the French than is the Isle of Wight."

He glanced at the Colonel, who was walking next to him leading his horse. "So you have had nobody express an interest in transferring yet, then, sir? Do you anticipate having anyone request to transfer at all?"

"I ... wouldn't approve it at the moment. Better a full trained man in the line than an untrained rifleman. If we are to have action in the next few days. After that, we shall see." Edrington paused before asking: "Do you need more men? To function properly, I mean. We would all like to be fully up to strength."

Vickery shook his head. "Oh, no, sir. I have eighty-eight men - eighty-nine counting our new recruit - so we're only twelve men under strength, which is closer to being at full strength than we have any right to expect. I would be entirely ungrateful to expect to be at full strength while there are regiments in England that consider themselves lucky to be at half their strength. we can function perfectly well with eighty-eight men - and we don't lose a rifle every time we gain a Sergeant, either. Every single one of the NCOs carries a rifle, as well as the ordinary rank-and-file doing so."

He grinned ruefully. "If it gets too desperate, the Lieutenants and I can pick up a rifle and help out as well, though in doing that, it is much harder to keep a grasp of the big picture. The only person in the Company who doesn't yet have experience on the range is our bugler, sir, and I have told him that he will have to wait until he's sixteen."

Edrington nodded. "Regiments in England don't quite face the same problems. They can, and ought, to be recruiting. But as you say, we are not dangerously under strength, so ... " But they would, inevitably, lose men at a faster rate than they would receive replacements. "Your men are more experienced than many of mine," he said thoughtfully. "We might see a change if you perform well, and they think life as a Rifleman is more exciting - or less."

"You know the 95th's boast - or maybe it would be more accurate to call it a toast. First into the field, and the last out of it - the bloody, fighting 95th. That's just as accurate for the 60th - we're the vanguard when advancing, as we are now, and we would be the rearguard if we were retreating." He adjusted the hang of his sabre a little. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of your entire Light Company, should they all decide they would rather wear green, though, sir. I believe we have an unfair advantage in recruiting because of how unusual we are - and I include the 95th in that as well, of course."

He expected their attrition rate to be high and wasn't sure quite how the 60th's senior officers planned to gain new recruits. In the meantime, if men were willing to volunteer from the Line regiments, he wasn't about to turn them away - as long as they had the support of their own company officers in making the exchange.

The rifle was slipping a little, and he adjusted it carefully in his hold. He chose one of the ways he'd been shown to carry it and kept to that, glancing the men at the front and side every so often. He still held himself somewhat more straightened up.

The day started out nicely. He got his mug of tea, got the little bit of breakfast and that was about all that he'd ever need. If only he knew where Newbury was and why Cotton looked so worried.