Mist rolled in during the night, accompanied by a drizzling rain that soaked through the men"s coats and penetrated every layer of clothing that they had. Jack huddled at the bottom of the trench, cursing the weather. He checked his men. The old Burma hands of the 113th had placed a sock or a piece of rag over the muzzles and locks of their Minié rifles to keep out the rain and had waterproofed their ammunition pouches as best they could. The men of the 118th, young soldiers straight out from England, had taken no such precautions and had their rifles stacked, muzzle up to the rain. Jack moved among them, telling them what he wanted to be done and showing them how to do it, man by man. He knew it was too important a task to leave to the sergeants, for a soldier whose rifle could not fire h
