"b****y mud," Thorpe"s voice came clearly to Jack as he toured the camp of the 113th Foot, the notorious Baby Butchers. "We give Johnny Russ a hell of a towelling and what do the officers give us? Wet blankets and mud. b****y Ruskis and b****y officers and b****y, b****y Crimea."
"Good morning Thorpe," Jack said quietly. "I hear you are settling in nicely?"
"Oh, yes sir!" Thorpe scrambled a hurried salute. "All fine, sir and congratulations on your promotion."
"There was no promotion, Thorpe," Jack said.
"Oh sorry sir, I heard a shave…"
"The shave was wrong. I am still Lieutenant Windrush; not the commander in chief yet."
Standing to approximate attention amidst the lines of tents that the 113th called home, Thorpe looked confused. "I never heard that you was to be commander in chief
