Jack Windrush Collection - Books 1-4

Chapter 4-2

"Yes, sir." Jack nodded. He didn"t hide his smile. When he first entered this room, he had thought Colonel Murphy a broken old drunk, but now realised he was only a disillusioned veteran soldier who wanted the best for his regiment. "When do I leave, sir?"

"I wish you to join the expedition as soon as it"s created. Until then, get used to the climate and the people and get to know the regiment." Murphy shuffled his papers before looking up again. "Try and find a decent sergeant to take with you. Perhaps you could locate a fellow called Wells; he appears a cut above the usual standard."

"Yes, sir." Jack hesitated. "Thank you, sir."

Murphy did not answer; his hand strayed to the gin bottle.

"Right, you misbegotten bastards!" Sergeant Wells glared over the line of men who stood at what they fondly imagined was attention in front of him. "You were sent to this regiment because your own did not want you." A head taller than most of the men, he marched along the line, counting slowly. "One, two, three, four and five; five rejected blackguards." He lowered his voice to a roar. "And you are all mine now!" He stepped closer to them. "I don"t know why you were unwanted, and I don"t care what crimes your dirty little paws have committed. I only know that you think you have had a shabby hand in life."

Jack watched the performance from the shade of a grove of peepul trees. He knew Ranveer was behind him but didn"t notice the tall officer who strutted to join him.

"You got here then, Windrush." The voice was familiar, but not welcome.

"Good morning, Lindsay," Jack didn"t attempt to sound friendly.

"He"s a strange man, Sergeant Wells," Lindsay ignored the snub. "He"s an old India hands; when his regiment sailed for home, he transferred to your lot. God knows why. I wouldn"t trust a man like that." He snapped his fingers and shouted, "Cigar!" to a Burmese servant who stood a few feet away.

Jack wiped the sweat from his face. "Maybe he likes the climate."

"Oh no." Lindsay casually slapped the servant on the head and dragged smoke into his lungs. "These n*****s are lazy scoundrels."

Jack vaguely remembered the attentive servants who had looked after him when he was a young boy in India and said nothing.

"Now you idle, useless bastards," Wells was shouting again, "I will teach you how to shoot, although God alone knows why anybody would ever trust things like you with a broken stick, let alone a bundook."

Wells lifted the musket he carried. "This is your friend; you do not treat her like your wife. I know how blaggards like you treat women; you are rapists and rogues and not fit to be near a woman. No, you treat Bess as if she was your immortal soul if you still have one – which I doubt."

Insults with dark humour – does it work? Jack remembered the ugly group of soldiers in Hereford and wondered how accurate the sergeant"s words were.

Insults with dark humour – does it work?"Let"s begin with the basics," Wells said. "This is a Brown Bess musket. It is what you will use to kill the Queen"s enemies. Bess weighs ten and a half pounds, and a good marksman can hit his target at eighty yards. However, Bess is a difficult lover; she has a stiff trigger, and you are weak and stupid. That means that when you pull the trigger, you will open your hand like so,." Wells extended the fingers of his right hand. "Because you believe that gives more power to your hand. In doing so, of course, you lose control of Bess, and she recoils. The first time she does so, you are taken by surprise, and she cracks you one." Wells stepped suddenly forward and smacked the butt of his musket against the jaw of the tallest recruit. The man stepped back. "I did not say you could hold your face! Stand at attention!"

Lindsay gave a little snort of amusement. "Take note, Windrush; that is how you treat rankers and women. I know you avoid women."

Jack said nothing as Ranveer withdrew.

Wells continued. "The second time you try, you will expect the recoil and hold back your head. By doing so, you cannot aim, so your enemy, be he Pathan, Sikh or Frenchie, will charge up, s*******r you and piss on your disembowelled body. Now, that is a bad thing and disappoints the Queen whose shilling you took and who keeps you in smart uniforms and good rations. Now you don"t want to disappoint Her Majesty, do you?"

The recruits shook their collective heads. The tallest man had the beginnings of a bruise on his chin.

"No? Good. So we will do something to ensure that Her Majesty is pleased, won"t we?"

The men nodded without enthusiasm.

"Lift Bess!" Wells ordered. "And follow my lead. First, we take a cartridge, like so," he held up the short stubby cartridge so that even the densest of the private soldiers could recognise it, "and we tear it open, like this…" he tore the top with his teeth. "Of course, you could use your fingers, if you have a third hand, but the good Lord, in His wisdom, granted us only two, unless you are some many-armed Hindu goddess."

Jack smiled at the expected subdued laugh. Wells is playing them like a violin.

Wells is playing them like a violin."This Sergeant Wells is good," he said to the silent Lindsay.

Lindsay grunted. "He knows how to keep discipline. That seems to be hard for your lot. My sepoys do what I order them if they know what"s good for them."

"The 113th will do better next time," Jack said.

Lindsay snorted. "I doubt it. Not with Colonel Lushy in command, and officers who are scared of women." He snapped his fingers for another cheroot.

Jack felt the words rise to his mouth. A lush was a drunkard; he had seen Murphy with the gin bottle. "Are you implying cowardice, Lindsay?" He knew that he had to respond to such an accusation. Cowardice was the worst possible insult for a British officer.

Lindsay held the cheroot for the servant to light. "What makes you think I was referring to you at all, Windrush – unless the boot fits, of course." He puffed smoke and pushed the servant away before lazily addressing Jack. "Are you scared of women? You had no interest in the delightful Lucinda." His smile had all the sincerity of a cat enticing a mouse into its paws. "Or in any other woman, I believe."

Jack felt the colour rise to his cheeks as Lindsay"s smile broadened.

"Sahib…" Jack had not heard Ranveer come up. The Sikh gave a brief bow.

"Not now, Ranveer,." Jack heard the tension in his voice. "Ensign Lindsay and I are having a discussion."

Should I call Lindsay out? Is duelling legal in India? Is it worse to break the law or have one"s honour insulted and abused?

Should I call Lindsay out? Is duelling legal in India? Is it worse to break the law or have one"s honour insulted and abused?"Yes, sahib, but you did ask me to come to you immediately I find the women."

"What? What nonsense are you talking Ranveer?" Jack looked around, irritated at this new distraction.

Ranveer was not alone. He had three women with him. Two were local girls with cheap longyis wound around their slender bodies and sandaled feet nervous in the dust. Both wore orchids in their black, coiled hair. The third was from further west, a Dravidian from southern India, Jack guessed, with caste marks on her forehead and a large brass ring in one ear. He tried to hide his sudden unease.

"You asked me to find a girl for you, sahib," Ranveer bowed again. "I could not find the particular girl you requested. Perhaps these three will make up for that?"

He"s trying to help. How the devil did he know?

He"s trying to help. How the devil did he know?Jack saw sudden interest in Lindsay"s face. He took a deep breath. "No, take them away, Ranveer. I only want that one woman; no other will do."

"Yes, sahib," Ranveer said. He ushered the women away less gently than Jack would have wished.

"You are only interested in one particular woman then?" Lindsay"s eyes watched the departing women, never straying from the slide of longyi around their backsides.

That"s disgusting. "So it would appear,." Jack tried to sound mysterious.

That"s disgusting"I see," Lindsay flicked ash toward Sergeant Wells, who continued to harass his squad with well-worn invective. "Better to play the field, old man, remember that marriage ruins the prospects of young officers." He shook his head slowly. "Not that there are many prospects in your unhappy regiment if that lot is an example of their prowess. My sepoys would tear holes in them."

Jack controlled the anger that Lindsay roused in him and continued to listen to Sergeant Wells.

"I already told you to ignore the taste of the powder," Wells shouted. "Ram the cartridge well home, then the bullet, and put the cap on – easy." He swung the musket to his shoulder and aimed directly at the face of one of the men. "Now repeat what I said, Coleman, or I"ll blow your b****y head off."

Coleman visibly paled. "Jesus, Sergeant! Careful! That thing"s loaded!"

"Then you had better be correct, Coleman. Repeat what I said."

Coleman took a step back as he gabbled the sergeant"s instructions.

"Not quick enough, Coleman; now prepare Bess." Wells kept the musket pointed at Coleman"s face as the man fumbled to tear the cartridge, remembered to bite it, but trembled so much that a third of the coarse black powder spilt down his chin.

"That"s you dead, Coleman." Wells took one step closer, so the muzzle of his musket was only eight feet from Coleman"s face. "You dropped half your powder, so your ball will not fly true, and the Sikhs are now running at you and hacking at your guts with a great big tulwar. Duck!" He screamed the last word even as he pulled the trigger. There was a click as the hammer of his musket cracked down but no report and no puff of powder smoke.

Wells grinned as Coleman threw himself backwards. "That was a misfire, Coleman; you"re still alive; God knows why. You have to watch for misfires and depend on your left or right- hand man or your rear marker to watch out for you, and you for him."

Wells pulled his musket back to the on-guard position. "You are a soldier and part of a section in a company, in a regiment, in the British Army, but when the Ghazis come screaming Allah Akbar from the high hills, then you will feel all alone in the big wide world." He unsheathed his bayonet and clicked it home. "But you are not alone, Coleman. Even you have this little lady. You and she are lovers; she is the only lover an ugly useless bastard like you will ever know. Together you can destroy anybody that gets close enough." His smile encompassed all the men there. "Now I"ll teach you how to kill."

GhazisAllah Akbar"Time we were gone Windrush,." Lindsay continued to stare at the retreating women. "The hand-to to-hand stuff is all very well for the men, but hardly for gentlemen, I think."

"I don"t agree," Jack didn"t move. "The more we learn about our profession, the better, surely."

"Oh God, you griffs are such bores,." Lindsay tossed his cheroot aside. "I have better things to do than spend my day chatting to the Queen"s Griffins. Good day to you." Tipping forward his forage cap, Lindsay sauntered in the wake of Ranveer and his trio of women.