Jack Windrush Collection

Chapter 21

"There it is boys," Coleman pointed across the maidan, "there"s the temple of Pegu." The men gave a little cheer, sailors and seamen together.

In the evening light, the town looked more exotic than ever with its great pointed temple rising to the darkening sky, dwarfing the huts that clustered all around. The sweet sound of bells ghosted across to them.

"There"s a flag flying from the temple," Wells said, "but I"m blessed if I can see which one." He turned to Myat. "Can you make out the colours?"

"It"s the British flag," Myat said at once, and when the words spread, the men cheered again.

"So all we have to do is march in like soldiers, and we"ll be safe," Jack told them. The 113th stared at the Union flag that flapped above the town as if sight alone could bring them food and clean water and security from biting insects and marauding dacoits.

"Come on, lads, smarten up!" Wells lined them up. "I"ve no idea which regiments are in Pegu, but I do know that they have not done what we have done. Clean your muskets, smarten what"s left of your uniforms and march to attention. We"re going into Pegu like soldiers, like the best regiment in the Army."

"You Mabels," Bertram shouted, "let"s show these red coats how sailors march."

Mabel"You"re going home," Wells whispered to Myat and touched her arm.

Jack looked at the remains of his command. They looked older, harder, leaner and fitter, if much less smart. Even Thorpe looks something like a soldier.

"We"ve done it, lads," Jack said. "We"ve faced the worst that Burma can throw at us and survived. We will be in a British-held town soon, with British soldiers manning the walls and no more worries about dacoits—"

"What"s that sound?" Thorpe was the first to hear it.

"It"s just the wind in the trees," O"Neill said, "nothing else."

"It"s drums," Coleman"s voice was leaden.

"Can you hear that, Bertram?" Jack called along the length of the column.

"Halt and listen," Bertram ordered, and the men stopped at once, eyes swivelling to the dark surroundings.

"Drums," Jack confirmed. He didn"t have to say more. All the men knew what that meant.

"It could be just some local festival," Coleman said, "it"s nearly Christmas—"

"Peguese don"t celebrate Christmas," Myat told him. "We are Buddhists, not Christians."

"Maybe a wedding then, or something," Coleman continued.

Jack shook his head. "It"s the dacoits," he said. "Keep your eyes wide open, boys."

"March on," Bertram ordered, "quick march or at the double or whatever the order is."

The mood had entirely altered as the small column moved on. Elation had changed to tension, joy to fear and relief to doubt.

"They"re getting louder." Thorpe"s voice was high pitched. He began to move faster toward Pegu. "Jesus, look! The place is alive with them!"

He"s right, damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

He"s right, damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it!Jack looked around. The Burmese had emerged from the jungle behind them, moving with the same confident, wary vitality as they had in every previous encounter. Two distinct bodies of Burmese soldiers emerged from the forest. The stocky, muscular soldiers carried their long muskets, and vicious dhas with skill and they moved in a disciplined formation.

"These are no dacoits," Jack said shortly, "these are regular Burmese soldiers."

Wells nodded. "Could be," he said, and asked Myat her opinion.

Myat glanced over her shoulder and pushed forward a little faster.

She"s scared. I"ve never seen Myat looking scared. For an instant, Jack fought the urge to hold her in reassurance.

"They"re not dacoits." Myat"s voice lacked its habitual calm. "They are the king"s favourite two regiments, the Invincibles and the Invulnerables."

"Are they good?" Jack didn"t need to ask the question. He knew by the way the men moved that they were trained soldiers. He raised his voice. "At the double, boys. They"re right behind us."

The Burmese were moving fast, trotting up to Pegu as the light faded behind the temple.

There is no movement in Pegu. We have to warn the garrison.

There is no movement in Pegu. We have to warn the garrison."Wells, O"Neill; fire at the Burmese!"

"They haven"t seen us yet, sir," Wells warned.

"Nor have the garrison seen them," Jack told him. "We have to wake them up."

The Burmese were advancing in ordered ranks, keeping their positions as if they were on parade. If the Invincibles and Invulnerables came to Pegu in such order, any unwary sentries would be overwhelmed. The Burmese would flood the defences and m******e the British in their barracks.

Wells nodded and nudged O"Neill. "You take the Invincibles, and I"ll take the Invulnerables," he said.

"All of them?" O"Neill murmured but knelt and faced the oncoming Burmese. Jack waited with them. The Burmese were almost invisible, dim shapes in the rushing gloom, with the bamboo jungle behind them like a solid black wall.

"Don"t aim, just fire," Jack said, "we"re warning the garrison more than trying to halt the Burmese."

"Aye, sir." O"Neill made the words sound like an insult.

Hurry along, for God"s sake. Jack looked over his shoulder as Bertram led the column toward Pegu. We are isolated here. He touched his leg; the wound was aching damnably.

Hurry along, for God"s sakeWe are isolated here"Ready corporal?" Wells sounded casual.

"Ready sergeant." O"Neill gave a small grin, his teeth white in the dark. "You give the word."

"Fire." Wells was laconic.

Both muskets barked; there was the orange flare of the muzzles, and the smoke jetted acrid and clinging white. The Burmese line faltered slightly. Jack heard voices through the dark and the sharp tones of commands. A dog barked in Pegu, joined by a dozen more.

"Give them another," he ordered, although all his instincts told him to flee for the sheltering muskets of the garrison of Pegu. They must have heard that, surely?

They must have heard that, surely?"Yes, sir," Wells was already reloading, ignoring the now rapidly advancing Burmese as he balanced the percussion cap on its perch.

"Fire when ready," Jack said, "and then retire as fast as you like."

O"Neill fired first and was on his feet and running even as Wells" continued to aim. Jack waited until Wells musket flared and then began to move. He heard the noise from the Burmese increase and a ragged volley followed, but he knew that in the dark it would be a lucky musket-man indeed who could hit a single moving man. Jesus; Jack staggered as he came down hard on his injured leg. Ignore the pain – pain is temporar; honour lasts forever.

JesusIgnore the pain – pain is temporar; honour lasts forever."They"re coming fast." Myat sounded scared.

"Not long to go now," Wells came beside her. "Keep close to me. The garrison will be alert."

They were. British voices sounded in the night. "What"s to do? Who goes there?" Light pooled from a swaying lantern.

"Friend!" Bertram shouted out, "followed by thousands of un-friendly Burmese. Let us in please!"

"Advance friend," the voice sounded quite relaxed, "until I can see you." The light moved slightly, stretching out in an elliptical illusion of security surrounded by hostile darkness.

"Come on, man, the Burmese are behind us—" one of the seamen started.

Bertram hissed him to silence. "Keep quiet and do as the man says."

"But the b****y Burmese—"

"Who"s there?" A new voice of authority cut through the dark.

"Lieutenant Bertram of Serangipatam," Bertram replied at once, "with "Ensign Windrush of the 113th Foot and the survivors of both."

Serangipatam"Good God!" There was a second"s silence broken only by the sound of the Burmese swishing through the grass behind them, and then that same voice barked again. "Let these men in right away."

"There are thousands of Burmese right behind us," Jack warned.

"Stand to!" the officer"s voice rose to a shout. "Get these men inside, for God"s sake!"

"Right lads, follow me," Bertram said.

The first shot sounded from behind them, followed by another. Thorpe flinched.

"They"re shooting at the lights," Jack said.

"Come on!" A British soldier stepped into the pool of light and waved them on. "Hurry it along!"

"Sahib!" Ranveer shouted the warning, spun around and fired so close to Jack"s ear that he flinched.

A Burmese soldier fell with his dha flying from his hand.

"Thank you," Jack said.

"There"s more," Wells said briefly. He snapped his bayonet in place. "They"re all around us."

"Time to go, boys," Bertram shouted, "run for it!"

Exhausted, battered, feverish and weak, the survivors limped toward the light. It felt like the race for Bo Ailgaliutlo"s stockade, without the elation and hopefully without the ditch. Jack felt the pain in his wounded leg increase and the breath burn in his lungs.

"In you come, boys," the Dublin accent of the burly soldier was welcome. "And close the door behind you, keep the draught out."

"You say sir when you talk to an officer," Wells spoke automatically.

"Beg pardon sir, I didn"t know you was an officer," the private sounded genuinely shocked.

As more lanterns appeared, the light flickered on a line of red coats and grim faces, with levelled muskets and heavy black boots.

"Which regiment?" It was too dark for Jack to recognise the facings.

"Madras Fusiliers," Wells said at once, "Company infantry." He glanced further along the perimeter of Pegu where another unit was forming up. "And that"s the Madras Native Infantry," he said. "I"m not sure which regiment."

"Present!" An officer of the Madras Fusiliers yelled the words. "Fire!"

The volley ripped through the night, followed by a few roars and a more ragged return volley from the Burmese. As the Burmese fired, Jack saw a succession of images of flat Burmese faces and yelling Burmese mouths, of muzzle -flares glinting from the wicked blades of dhas and of an advancing press of determined men. A single British volley did not deter the Invincibles and Invulnerables. Temporarily blinded by the musket -flares, Jack waited until his night vision returned and stared into the dark.

"Fire!" the Fusilier officer yelled again, and his men loosed another volley.

"Fire!" that came from further along as the Madras Native Infantry added their fire to the defence.

Musketry came in return, an irregular spatter, and then there was silence. The acrid stench of powder smoke drifted across Pegu to slowly dissipate in the sultry air.

"They"ll be back," somebody said and stepped into the circle of lamplight. "Major Hill of the First Madras Fusiliers," he said, "I"m in charge of the garrison of Pegu." He studied Jack for a second. "We heard that all on board Serangipatam were dead. I am glad you survived." He looked up as firing broke out from the direction of the river. "They"re attacking the river picket."

SerangipatamJack looked at his men; ragged, exhausted, thin, they had not waited for orders before reloading their muskets while the men of the Fusiliers watched these refugees from the jungle. "Do you wish us to march across sir? If you could supply us with a few muskets, rather than these Burmese things, I know we could give a good account of ourselves."

Major Hill shook his head. "No, Windrush. Lieutenant Brown will have to manage for himself tonight." He nodded to the scarecrows of the 113th. "Get your men inside the pagoda, ensign, feed them and find some rest. It looks like it will be busy here. That goes for you too, Lieutenant Bertram."

It was a relief to be among British soldiers again and to hear British voices giving commands and the regulated crunch of British and sepoy boots on the ground while the multi-crossed Union flag hung serene and proud from the pagoda above.

"Well, Windrush," the major"s face was lined with fatigue, "it seems that you have stepped from the frying pan into the fire. It would have been better if you had kept on downstream to Rangoon, but too late now." He paused for a moment. "The Burmese have closed the ring around us. Pegu is under siege."