"Have you heard what"s happening, Windy?" Elliot made himself as comfortable as he could by sitting on the side of a grave mound.
Jack looked over the Allied camp, where the French had their neat row of dog-tents, and the British belatedly had erected their own larger tents. "I know our big-wigs, and the French commanders have been talking."
Elliot produced a pewter hip flask, took a swallow and passed it over to Jack. It was brandy, rough, powerful and probably distilled somewhere in the French camp. Trust the French to have all the comforts of home. "We"ve been here for days now," he said, "with the men falling like flies from cholera and dysentery and Raglan and the Froggies disagreeing what to do next."
Trust the French to have all the comforts of home."I know that much," Jack retur
