With the regimental and queen’s Colours standing proud above the nondescript village, the 66th stood firm. A score of the sappers joined them and those of the grenadiers who had not fled. Jack led his handful of men into the mud enclosure and nodded to Crimea, who looked surprisingly calm.
“Not quite the glorious beginning to your career you had hoped, Second Lieutenant?”
Crimea gave a strained smile. “Oh, I don’t know, sir. My father’s first action was at the Redan. He nearly lost his life to a Russian shell, and now he’s the colonel of the regiment. It’s a family tradition, you see?”
“I see,” Jack said. He remembered the c*****e at the Redan, where the Russians had repelled a British attack with s*******r, and many young British soldiers had refused to fight. It was not a pleasant mem
