Captain Peel and his Royal Naval gunners had hammered at the defending walls of the Shah Najaf mosque for three hours, firing over the small houses that cowered under the evening heat. Now a mixed battalion of infantry advanced, including the remnants of Jack"s 113th. Alongside them were the ubiquitous kilted men of the 93rd, with their bayonets raised and minds full of the s*******r at Cawnpore.
"Oh, God, here we go again." Elliot drained his hip flask. "Dear Father, keep us safe in our time of tribulation."
Jack took a deep breath. "Come on lads; look out for one another." He could say no more. He didn"t want to be here, yet the alternative of facing the turmoil of his thoughts was worse than fighting the enemy.
"Are you all right, sir?" Thorpe asked.
Jack forced a smile. "You look a
