Pursuing the French

Pye nodded each time, a yes for drill, a yes for his uniform and a yes for the last question, whether he had seen the skirmishing.

" I did." He said remembering all the different presentations that they had. The Skirmishing ended with a pair of riflemen reaching for the flag. "Carty was there! He n' Cotton got that flag." He smiled. "We did some skirmishing too..well, recently we did. Jus' I wasn't in pair, because I still need to learn. Followed two 'stead."

Harris nodded. Carty had reached the flag at the same time as Cotton. The boy had been so pleased - a good partner to have, young Carty. They were keeping up a good pace, a rifleman's pace, and passing the infantry, but if they wanted to get back to their proper position in the front, they might have to run - unless the infantry took a break soon.

"You were with the 60th when we drove the French back from the Vouga, weren't you? Night work is difficult, but it's easier to concentrate when you are actually close to the enemy. At the moment they are ahead, and still running."

"Yes." He kept with the pace fairly well. His breathing was somewhat quick, but not strained nor noticeable. He was glad Harris hadn't thought much of him being in the 33rd. He remembered how some of the 60th had reacted. How Newbury did, and that lass. But Harris just asked him and that was it. He smiled.

"How do.. you in the 95th get ter be partnered with someone?" He asked. "N'.. you stay like that then?"

"It's not like marriage," Harris said, "but we normally fight in pairs, and work together. I've had a couple of partners since I joined the 95th - for now, I'm with Michéal Carty, but one day we'll probably both take new partners - there 's no point in the experienced men sticking together and leaving the green'uns to work things out for themselves." His mouth moved in a smile. "It was a case of being asked to volunteer to work with Carty, but I am not sorry for it."

"He's very fortunate to have such a good teacher." The boy must've had both talent and a great teacher, there was no doubt in that, not for Pye at least. He smiled absentmindedly flicking a pebble into the puddle of mud and water, watching it splash as it sunk. That was one river pebble less to use to keep his mouth from drying up. But then, it was raining so that was the least of his worries. Thirsty he would not be that day.

"..n' partner." He added quickly.

"You's normally asked, if you'um want ter partner with a... green'un." Which was amusing to say, when all riflemen wore was, basically green. "Well, that sort of green'un, that you meant!"

"I believe so - it hasn't happened before, and it might not do again - at least until the rest of the Regiment rejoins us - which I hear they might. Captain Cadoux has come in advance, but he says they will be with us in a couple of months." Harris thought that would be good - they would be in a normal company, no longer separated from such luxuries as a quartermaster or armourer, reliant on getting supplies from another regiment.

"That'll be quite a change then!" He thought of it. Now there was a few of these men, and he heard enough in the short time to know vaguely what the position of the 95th was. He'd seen that captain personally alongside with Carty! Had to fetch him an officer too.

He kept his pace quick, though his thoughts wandered to the egg, and he shifted it into his inner pocket where he thought it would be safer.

"You's.. very learnt, I heard." He lifted his gaze, timid and just a bit anxious looking.

The tall bear of a red coat entered the village with two red coat privates checking each of the houses and looking around clearly searching for something...or some one. All three bearing the badge of the 62nd on their shakos, and the large red coat wearing three stripes of a sergeant on his red coat and will leave the two privates behind for the moment and approach the group of green coats, a musket slung over his broad shoulder.

"well well, now if it isn't a group of our fine lads in green with those special muskets of theirs, would ye mind telling a poor old red coat who's in charge here?" he would ask with his irish accent.

Lt. Jaeger paused before cresting a ridge and nervously bit his lip. Had it been right to send off the burial party? Rifleman Stubenrauch was steady enough, and a catholic to boot, and the redhead of the 95th was a chosen man, so he had to have merit, but that new recruit from the 33rd?

Conscious of the men's scrutiny, he hid his doubts and proceeded throught the wet shrubbery.

Harris raised a eyebrow. Technically, as a Chosen Man (however irregularly 'chosen') he was in charge, and under orders from Lieutenant Jaeger. "Rifleman Harris - 95th Rifles, Mr Sh-- Captain Cadoux's company. And this is Rifleman Stubenrauch and Rifleman Pye." Which ought to remind the sergeant that these were not muskets ...

Zachary straightened somewhat adjusting the strap on his shoulder. He kept his face straight stifling the amusement at the subtle manner in which the 95th's rifleman suggested what their weapons were properly named and were. Rifles, not muskets, not even an odd sort of musket!

The large sergeant looks to Harris "is that so, Rifleman Harris... now then since your in charge then you wouldn't happen to have a wee piece of paper that might be signed by an officer giving you leave to visit this fine village here?"

The sergeant sounded friendly enough and would even ignore Harris' none to subtle correction about their "rifles" well at least for now....

Harris produced the note signed by Mr Jaeger. "On Mr Jaeger's orders, we have been assisting the civilian population," he said as he handed it to the sergeant. "And being properly respectful of their religious practices."

Stubenrauch, behind him, glowered. "We are returning to our posts," he contributed.

Pye gave a quick nod. He remained quiet while the three men talked, thinking his imput hardly needed and even less important or necessary.

They had a note which allowed them to be there, they did just as they were told! No need to explain it, no. If the man wanted to find trouble, Harris and Stubenrauch would set him straight. He was confident at that, them and the note.

He turned to glance to their left. Those poor dead men were now laid to rest and could have final peace even if in a rather drenched grave.

He took the offered note in a big meaty hand and would read it over with a nod and hand it back to Harris. "All is well then, I always said you green coated lads were good lads. Can't be to careful though now can we, wouldn't want the damned provosts finding your had you not had that wee bit of paper. Now you lads wouldn't have happened to see two thick headed redcoats come through here would you have?"

Harris shook his head, frowning. "We're just passing through - on our way back to the rest of the Rifles. Have you lost some of your men?" he asked in a sympathetic tone.

Stubenrauch chuckled. "There is many mens who meet that description coming along this road - very slow men."

He chuckled and shook his head before becoming very serious.
"No I have not lost any of my men, though two seem to have lost their heads, it seems one good for nothing excuse for Welshman got it into his thick head it would be a good idea to skip on over to the Frenches as apparently they don't flog. Any way he has managed to talk one of his good for nothing bumpkin pals to go with him. Now we need to try and find them so we can have the skins off their backs before the damn provosts get a hold of them."

Slow men. The youth covered a grin at that. Slow men they were, with riflemen so quick!

"Didn' see 'em." He murmured.

He glanced at the large man, spared him a fleeting study of character and then he quickly averted his gaze on to their left. It wasn't for his ears or any of theirs, this speak of the attempted desertion! Good the sergeant hadn't used the word, but what he was telling was exactly that.

"They'll have to skip pretty quickly to catch up with the French ..." Harris said doubtfully. "We'll pass it on when we get back to our companies - if they see any redcoats trying to get in front of us, we'll stop them and send them back to you."

"It's a strange time to choose to change sides," he said after a moment's more reflection, "with the French running away so fast that they abandon their artillery, and their baggage!"

"Aye, well as I said they are none to bright it seems, as if joining the Frenchies is going to help them when we chase them all the way back to Paris!"

He looked toward the direction the French were retreating and shook his head.

"Well I'll let you lads get back to your companies then, just remember save some of those Frenchies for us!" He says with a grin.

If the men were to be found before the provosts they could possibly account themselves to be the lucky sort. Why they deserted at all, was a mystery to the young lad, though not one he had not known of before. He frowned. It was... not a wise thing to do that, not if one was caught or if the enemy was loosing in this case or.. just doing it was bad.

"Maybe they've just gotten lost?.." Or did someone overhear them running off on their own? He looked ahead. The longer they were in one place or at a slow pace, the longer they would be attempting to catch up again. Atleast it couldn't get any wetter. He was drenched to the bone as it was and he dared bet that his shoes would release a good fill of water once he turned them upside down.

"..stupid sods." He whispered quietly.

Harris looked at Pye. "I don't see how they can have got lost - you don't leave your section without a note from the officer. Or do you think they've gone hunting for sheep in the foothills?" He turned back to the sergeant with a slight smile. "We'll keep a lookout for your lads, Sergeant, and have them sent back if they try to get past us. But I suspect they will have lain low and gone back to Oporto. They may try to get a ship back, but if the Navy catches them, they'll be in a worse fix."

He shouldered his rifle more comfortable. "Good luck, anyway," he said, and turned back towards the road ahead. "If we press on now, we'll catch up with the vanguard before the next break."

He chuckles hearing Pye's comment. "lad, to get "lost" from your unit while on the march you need to be either bind as a bat or dumb as a mule if not both."

He nodded to Harris, before making his way back to his two soldiers and with them heading out of the village.

Harris led the other two riflemen out of the village, and on, passing the slowmoving infantry. "It is not going to go well for them if they are caught. Not out here."

Pye kept a quick pace with the other two riflemen. Of course, nobody could get lost on their own, not unless they had the paper first, and then just did not return and it didn't look as the two had them or whether they've somehow overslept the camp's move.

"..Not good what they'd done." He murmured. "Silly thought. Very silly." He frowned. "Worse when you're on campaign... they're goin' ter be hanged if they're caught, will they?" He inquired, though nearly convinced it would be just so.