Jack scraped out his sword. Light flashed on the curved blade. "Come on the 113th!" He ducked as a British roundshot howled past his head and crashed into the pagoda gate. His men were lagging, with Wells pushing them on and O"Neill five paces in front.
The British artillery fell silent as the infantry approached the gate.
"It"s all up to us now!" A captain of the Royal Irish drew his sword and put his shoulder to the dense teak. His men followed, cheering as their combined weight burst open what remained of the gate, and the Queen"s and Company infantry crashed through. Rangoon lay before them.
"Onward lads!" Jack thrust his sword upwards, "With me the 113th!"
Oh Jesus: where do we go now? This attack is a Royal Irish show: it"s their decision.
Oh Jesus: where do we go now? This atta
