Next morning, Jack paused for a moment to listen to Sergeant Peebles encouraging a group of recruits as they assembled on the parade ground of Worcester barracks.
“You lot.” Peebles shook his head sadly as he slowly walked the length of the double line. The recruits were no different from any other intake, a mixture of scrawny youths from the city, blank-eyed countrymen and a few older men escaping from hopeless poverty or demanding wives. “You lot are beyond anything I have encountered before.” Peebles dropped his head as though in despair. “I have spent two weeks teaching you all I know, and you still know nothing. Nothing, and not much of that! You.” Peebles pointed to a nervous youth in the front rank. “What"s your name?”
“Morriston, sir,” the boy replied, wide-eyed.
“Morriston,” Se
