Saturday evening, the Rifles are back

Vickery laughed properly at that. "Quite right too. Especially as there's more meat on some of the others. And I prefer beef, any way."

"Beef is good." The youth nodded in agreement. "Meat's excellent in all forms...though fresh is best 'fcourse.. but not so easy ter come by at all." He looked at Vickery: "Well..I guess so, sir. Usually. Though any food is good 's long as it's on yer plate n' yers t' eat." He hadn't meant human though of course. Thought it was not needed to be said. That sort of meat was not good. Not unless , well there were times, but desperate, impossible, never to happen!

"You want to ask Roper or Cotton if they'll show you how to snare rabbits," Vickery said. "Not that I'm saying they were poachers before they enlisted. I'm pretty sure Cotton wasn't, anyway. And then you should ask Jacklin if he'll show you how to cook them."

"May we shoot rabbits though sir?" Hadn't he heard that Newbury had shot one, though there had been some internal joke about that hunt. What it was , the men weren't too detailed in telling.

"I will, sir. " He smiled. A fresh rabbit properly cooked made for one beautifully started or ended day. "When,.. when is it alright to hunt them sir, t' snares take time don't they? N' lots of hope that t' rabbit will go where it ought ter."

Vickery raised an eyebrow. Somehow he wasn't surprised that Pye had heard that story. "Certainly, when we're not close to the enemy and when you're neither on picquet nor scouting ahead. Snares are somewhat quieter, though. And it's possible to catch more than one rabbit when you use them. Although you should really be discussing that with Cotton and Roper. I've never been one for snaring rabbits."

The youth grinned. That what that internal joke was about. That one killed rabbits while scouting ahead. He reckoned the captain wasn't a poacher, even less the illegal sort. he was a gentleman, an officer and.. born into it, that was certain. But the men of such birth hunted, he'd seen them more than once. And their dogs.

"Sir." he began with a smile." Did you hunt .. with t'... uh.. t' class n' dogs n' horses? That is, before you joined t' army, sir?"

Vickery nodded. "I have been known to ride to hounds - go hunting, that is, yes. I haven't done so since coming out to Portugal, although some other officers tried to set up a hunt while we were wintering in Lisbon. I may find time to go hunting in the future, but I have been busy with other things over the past few months."

"Soldiering, sir?" He smiled. He looked at the kettle and then briefly up at the sky as if spying out a bird or a message come from the clouds.

He glanced at the captain and spoke: "You'll hunt here, sir? In Portugal or once you've returned?" He still hoped that his questions, for he was rather stunned he could give them to an officer, were not overstepping any boundaries. He was in the situation that he had not experienced before, something of a new ground where each step was taken cautiously. He wanted to ask, because he was curious and he liked the captain and liked that he could, but at the same he wondered if it were alright at all to do so. And then there was another thing he needed to ask, but wasn't sure if it were the officer or another in the rifles. It was an odd thing, that's all he knew.

"Out here. Although I probably won't be able to do too much; I don't want to push Brandy too hard, after all." He glanced across at Pye, who seemed to be getting used to the idea that it was possible to have a conversation with an officer, although Vickery thought there was still some underlying nervousness

The youth nodded. He guessed Brandy was the horse that their captain rode. Officers did and mostly their animals behaved. Hakeswill had been seen riding too, though his was, well he thought it was a mule once or some such, maybe even a donkey and it made him less than impressive. Still nobody dared laugh or look funny, not at that sergeant.

"Is.. it hard to ride?" A fool's question, but he was again curious. Obviously he hadn't done it himself, ever, just as plenty of other pressed men. He squirmed a bit at his seat and smiled.

"..Ah sir." Could ask him, he hoped. "If I'um ter.. send me earnings or part of 'em back to England or a place, but to someone else's home, this is, I did so before so t' address is in ter 33rd's books I'um sure, who am I ter ask fer it ter be written off t' same 'ere? " He fidgeted. "jus' transferred t' same as it were." He looked up at the captain questionably.

"Hard to ride? Not really." He smiled as Pye plucked up the courage to ask his next question, which he seemed to have been wanting to ask for some time. "Well, what you do is let me know how much you want to send home, and I will let our regimental agents know, and they can arrange to forward the money on, or have it collected from their offices. It would help if you could tell me the name of the person you want to send the money to, of course, and how much of your pay you want to send. It would probably be best if they received it every quarter or so, otherwise there likely won't be enough to make it worthwhile."

The lad's face brightened considerably when the captain explained and it sounded much easier than he'd thought it would be. It wasn't home he was sending it to, not his at least. The streets of London didn't need money, enough was lost out of the people's pockets on them!

"T' person whose... whose t' recievin' one then. The ma'am?" He asked just to be sure he understood right.

"Yes, the person who you want to receive the money." It was admirable of the lad to want to send some of his pay home, and the question had confirmed Vickery's opinion of the younger man. "I need to be able to write to our agents to instruct them to let your nominee - the person you wish to send the money to - have a certain sum of money drawn against your pay."

"A'right. T' name's Anne Williamson. " He smiled and glanced at his hands, his rifle and then looked back up at the captain.

"I'd have a.. a quarter of me pay sent.. that's half of what I get when t'.. um' t' army takes t' rest.." He hoped he'd made a good calculation on that.

Nominee was a strange word, but when the man explained its meaning the boy decided to try and remember it. Nominee, the person who is picked to get his money. Easy that way!

"She's um' " What did Johnny say? The address was.. He thought for a few moments, but could not exactly remember it. Did only hear it once, all detailed. The rest was talk of it, but he doubted that if he described the roads and the houses, that Vickery could say - ah, that's it! - and know what he spoke of.

But they did have the town of origin written down for any soldier, didn't they? They had lots of scribbling and papers. Could not be any other reason for all the paperwork! ".. um'.. from t' same place as Johnny Williamson from t' 33rd. Him wife, yer see!" It could've been misunderstood, he thought after a moment and so he quickly added: "Is.. cos' them needs it."

Vickery paused in the act of pulling out his Day Book so he could write the information down. His eyebrow went up in curiosity. "Someone else's wife? Are you sure you want to send your money to someone else's wife? I won't stop you, but are you absolutely sure that's where you want your money to go?"

"Yes, sir." He nodded and looked fully convinced and confident in his decision. "Is that..he's got his children like."

He tried to explain for it had sounded still quite confusing and he really wished it not to be so. "N' t' family.. a bit big ..so, so it helps 'em n' they need it." And he didn't and had no other place to send it anyway. "Is fer t' family. No' just her."

"Ah, I see. And where does Mrs Williamson live - what town?" He pulled the book and a pencil out and wrote the name down in it. "And if you can remember the road, it would help as well."

"Is. .. well I don't remember exactly now. Don't yer have it written on Williamson's 'paper, sir?" Was there such a thing? A paper of a man, on the man. Well it had to be. "Well..lemme think!" He said embarrassed. He'd thought mentioning the man's name would somehow bring his address up.

"Town' n' road..." He closed his eyes trying to recall the name of the two. "Is that.. that.. um.. "It was a short word. "Liss... " He looked relieved. He didn't want to add work to the officer. Wasn't a good thing, even if the captain was kind and understanding.

".. Is sum'where close to Portsmouth , least.. that's what I've been told." And then the street. It was something more easy to remember, wasn't it? A road that had a meaning. "..Church.. ..Church Street." He nodded quite sure it was that. "Liss, Church Street. Is that a'right?"

"That's fine," Vickery said, writing the name and address down. "And you want to send a quarter of your pay to her, is that right? How often do you want her to get it? Once every three months is the usual, but you can make it more often, if you like, although that will mean she gets less money at each time."

"Every three months should be fine, I hope. If'um it needs ter be changed, can I come n' ask you sir?" If there was a need for it to be more frequent, though he was certain that more money every three months ought to do it. Not that the amount was as huge, but it made a difference and so it was big enough.

"Of course you can, Pye." He checked the address and added Nr Portsmouth, Hampshire, before closing the book and putting it back in his pocket. "It's very generous of you, I have to say."

The young rifleman blushed, feeling the compliment undeserved. It had him more surprised as it came from an officer and those did not give such words to the men, not often, perhaps not ever, certainly not to a person, if perhaps to the regiment.

"Is... ..is .. they jus' need it, is all." He said and fidgeted. "Thanks, fer t'.. t' sortin' out of it."

"My pleasure, Rifleman. I'm glad to help." He smiled as Roper brought over another cup of tea for each of them, giving Pye a wink as he handed the younger man his mug.

"He's a right good sort, the Cap'n," he said to Pye, speaking in a loud whisper that made Vickery grin.

The word rifleman coming out of the captain's mouth was certainly something to carry with pride. His place in the 60th was secured, though it changed nothing, and his efforts would remain as they were or only better. He smiled brightly, and his eyes held no fear or uncertainty in them as they had before. He might've even puffed his chest out a little without noticing, and he was still grinning as he took the mug from Roper and held it , the steaming tea felt warm through the mug's sides.

"He is." He agreed in a whisper and with a sharp nod to the man. "We'um right blessed." He added and blew against the water so that the mist rising from the mug swirled and disappeared for a moment.

"Too many compliments like that, Rifleman, and my head will swell so much you'll have to pop it so I can get into my tent without bringing it down on top of me." He looked up. "Thank you, Roper," he said, accepting the cup of tea and blowing the steam off it.

"My pleasure, sir," Roper said, and sat down on Pye's other side. "So what've you bin natterin' about with Mister Vick'ry, then?"