Disclaimer: These are works of fan-fiction created for entertainment. It is not the intention of the author to infringe on anyone's copyright. No rights infringement intended. Warning: General Audience

The Sharpe Fan Fictions of Paul K.

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Sharpe's Family

PART IV

Chapter 16

MAY 1793

KINSALE - COUNTY CORK, IRELAND



Kinsale lies one hundred ninety miles south of Dublin. Fort Charles lies south of Kinsale Cove on the east side of the harbor on a point of land on the north side of the village of Summer. It was built on the site of Ringcurran Castle and replaced Fort James which lies across the harbor. For one hundred years Fort Charles has guarded the harbor.

The new recruits were led from the ship to Fort Charles. As they walked towards the fort, Sharpe looked at what would be his new home. The outer walls are shaped like a star. Four points face to the landward side. He would learn that these are designed to enfilade attackers. The remaining point lies opposite the middle of the four other points and faces to seaward. The group followed the road that led from Kinsale to Summer Cover. A side road led from the main to the fort. The entrance gate was mid-way between the four land-facing points. A drawbridge spanned the ditch that isolated the fort from the land.

Richard was happy that they had arrived. He hoped to get out of the wind that had blown since they left the ship.

Inside, the road they follow into the fort drops as they walk. The Higher ground overlooks a rough circle formed by the inner walls. Their corporal leads them onto a parade ground at th center of the circle.

Guards form the new recruits into groups that will belong to each regiment. Sharpe’s group watches as the first two groups are led one-by-one to two chairs. Each recruit’s hair is cut short on top and the back pulled and tied into a club.

As each man finishes his haircut, he moves to the next spot outside a building.

“Strip! Take off ALL yer clothes!” Calls a soldier standing before the recruits. Richard slowly starts to remove his clothes. As he does, he tries to hide his picklock and knife on his body to avoid having them taken. When he worked with the pickpockets he had learned their tricks to hide items that they had stolen from others. First he hid the picklock. The knife is too large to be hidden in the same place. He will try to palm it until he has clothes to hide it.

Two soldiers walk along the rows to collect the clothes discarded by the recruits. The sacks are labeled with the owners name. They do not know that they will never see these clothes again. Parish elders will take the clothes to use with the poor of the surrounding towns.

Each recruit is marched forward where a man on each side of the line pours a bucket of water over each naked man. Yet others toss soaped a brush to each dripping man.

The sergeants bark throughout the time “Scrub yerself clean, NOW!”.

When a man is deemed to have scrubbed sufficiently, more water is poured over him. Then, he is pushed through the entrance to the building.

Sharpe is embarrassed to be naked in front of the others. He doesn’t recall ever being completely without clothes and he rarely had removed his shirt in front of others. He follows the orders that are given to avoid drawing attention. When the water douses him, he shivers and rubs his harms. The water is cold and it is a cold day. While he rubs his arms, he holds the knife against his skin. The guards don’t need to encourage him to scrub. The brush is too convenient to hide the knife. He is happy when they point him to the building Inside, he will be out of the wind and hopefully be given clothes.

Inside the building appears to be a small warehouse. Two more soldiers greet the recruits as each enters. They hand out white wool breeches and cap, a linen shirt, wool socks and a pair of shoes that will be the recruits’ everyday clothing.

“These are your fatigues. Put them on NOW!”

Sharpe is dresses and conceals the picklock and knife within the new clothes. As he stands from tying the shoes, he is pushed to a table to collect his ‘Necessaries’. As he moves along another row of soldiers, he is given a red wool coat with red facings, white wool waistcoat, a black cocked hat, neckstock, mittens, four pairs of white stockings, white linen gaiters, garters, a second pair of shoes, shoe-brush, a waist belt, a waistbelt plate, a knapsack, a haversack and a canteen.

Lastly, he is given a piece of paper to sign.

“Write your name or make your mark, boy.”

Sharpe signs the paper with an X. He doesn’t realize that he has signed to pay for his ‘Necessaries’. He also signed to pay for all of the food, lodging and transportation from Halifax to Kinsale. The money will come from the bounty that Sergeant Hakeswill gave him and the other recruits. But, the bounty will not be enough to pay for it all. Sharpe and the recruits are now in debt to the army. They will repay their debt with their service and with only luck on a foreign station will they ever have enough money to pay their debt.

Sharpe is in awe of all that he now carries. He has never had so much that is his. He is shoved to the doorway at the end of the line.

“Move, y’ bastard.”

Outside he joins the others from his group. When all twelve are assembled they are led to a barracks building.

“Pick a bed. Put your things on it. Then form two lines outside. NOW!”

Others grab the cot closest to them. Sharpe picks a cot near the end of the row. Tom picks next to him. They drop the stacks of ‘Necessaries’ and hurry outside. Tom and Sharpe choose to form in the middle of the back row. They have seen too often already how the sergeants choose from the front row to make examples.

Sergeant Christopher McDowell stands like a rod on the parade ground to wait for the recruits to assemble. At five foot ten, he stands taller than most of the new recruits. He wears the full uniform that all the recruits will learn to wear. For ten years, he has worn the uniform of the 51st regiment. At age seventeen, he had joined the regiment when it returned to Ireland after being captured at Menorca during the American War.

Every detail of his uniform is precisely kept per the regulations. During his first years, he had learned every detail how to be a soldier. Four years ago, when John Moore took command of the 51st, he removed many officers and sergeants who did not measure up to the standard that he wanted for the regiment. McDowell was promoted to sergeant and assigned to drill new recruits. Last year, Moore and the 51st were sent to Gibraltar. Moore selected McDowell and five other sergeants or corporals to stay at Kinsale to continue to train in the manner that Moore thinks is important for the future army.

From under his bicorne hat, McDowell’s brown eyes scan the group of recruits before him. His team and he will start with the brutal discipline that will force a man to stand in a line with his fellow soldiers when enemy soldiers are trying to kill him. Discipline will keep a soldier from running away when faced with the fear of the enemy. The fear of punishment for running away must be stronger for the soldier to resist. McDowell and his four fellow instructors will cultivate that fear while they teach the basics of being a soldier.

McDowell strides to the first row of recruits. Three privates stand at the ends and behind the rows. A corporal stands next to and behind the sergeant. McDowell looks up and down each man.

“Bastards! Scum!”

He eyes them from feet to heads. “Not soldiers! No! You are most definitely, not Soldiers!”

From a few feet away from the middle of the front row, he swivels his head from one end of the group to the other.

“I am Sergeant McDowell! You are NOT soldiers! But, you will become soldiers. I will make you soldiers.”

McDowell pauses. Looks at the group as he shakes his head. “Now. We begin! Left turn!”

Sharpe and all in his row turn to their left. All but one in the first row turn to the left. The recruit named Courtenay, turned to his right. Before he can correct himself to turn the same way as the others, McDowell is on him.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Don’t you know which way is left? Are you daft?

“Sweeney, teach this daft arsehole which is his left.”

Corporal Sweeney, steps forward. Rapidly, he punches Courtenay in the stomach, then turns him to the left.

“This is left! Left! Left! Not, right! Left!”

McDowell grabs Courtenay and shoves him into his place in line.

“Right, turn.”

This time, every one of the recruits turns to his right.

“Good! Good! You know right! Let’s try left again.”

“Left, turn.”

All turn to the left.

“Right, turn.”

“Left, turn.”

“Left, turn.”

Some of the men turned to the right instead of to the left as they expected that the sergeant would continue to turn them left then right.

“LEFT! LEFT! Corporal Sweeney! Teach these other arseholes their left!”

Sweeney sought out the soldiers that had turned the wrong way to punish them for their error.

“Now, again! Left!”

All turned to the left this time as they turned only after they heard McDowell say the direction.

“Very good. Left!”

“Left! Right!”

“Right! Right!”

“Left!”

McDowell barks the commands for turns time and again until the men turn the correct way every time.

For the rest of the hour, McDowell teaches the recruits the proper time and way to turn when he commands. When they master that, They begin to march.

“Now that you know your lefts and your rights, we will march. You will start with you left foot. You WILL move ONLY thirty inches. THIRTY INCHES! How far is that?”

“This far!” McDowell strides his left foot forward the precise thirty inches.

“On my command you will move your left foot forward THIRTY INCHES.”

“Ready, move your left foot, NOW.”

Although they move slowly, all of the recruits move forward. Richard moved the distance without hesitating. Some of those around him hestiated before moving the same distance as he moved.

“Very good. On my command, you will move your RIGHT foot thirty inches past your left foot. RIGHT FOOT! THIRTY INCHES ONLY!”

“Ready, move your right foot, NOW!”

Richard again moved the right distance and stopped while some of the others followed his move.

“This time we will keep moving.”

“Ready! LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT RIGHT,..”

The line of recruits step forward. After ten steps, McDowell halted them. He moved to one end of the line while Sweeney stands opposite him. McDowelll holds his arm at shoulder level to point at Sweeney. Sweeney holds his arm to point at McDowell.

“Every one of you should be in line with my arm or with Sweeney’s. Sweeney. MOVE THOSE THAT ARE NOT IN LINE!”

Sweeney walks down the line. Any recruit who is behind or ahead of the line is struck on the side of the head and then moved into the correct position.

“We will turn around and march back. March until I tell you to stop. Ready! Left!”

Tom and Richard had marched the correct distance and avoided punishment. Several of the others near them had gone too far or not far enough. This second time those that had been punished tried to match Tom’s and Richard’s strides. After ten steps, McDowell halted them. Again, Sweeney and he held out their arms. Only Courtney was out of line. Sweeney immediately descended on Courtney to punish and move him.

“Better. We will do this again until you can march a straight line every time. Turn around!”

McDowell, Sweeney and the privates march the line forward and back for the hour. All of the recruits have learned what distance to move and when to move. Several of them watch Tom and Richard to march correctly. Every recruit is singled out for an infraction at least once. When McDowell increases the pace of the march, one of the privates kicks Sharpe in the backside when he is not fast enough.

“One thing I hate, Boyo, is a slow soldier. You march like a cripple. Keep up with the others, Boyo!”

Sharpe knew that he was marching with the others. When others have tried to argue with the instructors that were beaten more. Sharpe has learned to keep quiet, especially after Sheehan had continued to whine that he was doing the drill correctly. Sweeney had slapped him across the mouth. “You ugly, scum! Let me give you a wee bit of advice. You’ll do better if’n you keep your gob shut.”

By the time the sun was setting, the group of recruits was marching in step and making simple turns each and every time.

“Detail, HALT! So, you can march. Good. Not soldiers yet. Tomorrow we learn more marching.” McDowell dismissed them to return to the barracks.

Sharpe was eager to eat. The others from the 33rd and he joined the recruits from the other regiments in line to eat. On the way back to the barracks, Sharpe stumbled forward when he was shoved from behind.

“Baby Face Sharpe are you? Guards favor you, eh? Rest of us are beat all day. You get kicked one time. Love tap, there.” Nate Crowley had remembered the name that Sergeant Hakeswill had called Sharpe back at Halifax.

Sharpe is tempted to fight, but resists. He could not win a fight here. The guards would stop them. And, he has decided that his life will be easier if he obeys and remains anonymous to the guards.

Tom steps between Crowley and Sharpe.

“Leave him be, Nate. Not his fault the guards leave him alone.”

“Why do they beat the rest of us, but not him, eh?”

“Don’t know, Nate. Maybe tomorrow, Dick will be their punching bag.”

“Maybe, Tom. I’m watching him. He can be a spy. Tell the guards all the things we do wrong so they punish us. He’s the only one that didn’t come from Sowerby Bridge or Sheffield. We all know each other. None of us knows Sharpe before.”

Courtenay joined Crowley. “Tomorrow , if they beat me more than you, I’ll look for you, Sharpe. One way or the other, you get beat.”

“Come on Dick. They talk nonsense.”

Sharpe was too tired to care about Courtenay and Crowley. They would need all their energy to train tomorrow.

The guards woke them before dawn to start the day. After a quick breakfast, they were on the parade ground. Sharpe chose to stand in the front rank today. When Courtenay tried to join him, he shoved him to the second row. “Stand there. They don’t see you as much back there.”

Courtenay grumbled that Sharpe had pushed him. “Think you are in charge, Sharpe?”

“Shut up Courtenay. Trying to help you.” Sharpe followed his own advice as Sergeant McDowell and the other soldiers arranged themselves around the detail to start the training. They continued drilling the basics to transition from being civilians to soldiers. McDowell started with the lessons from the day before. He commands them to set out with the left foot, turn left, turn right and face to the rear. Two of the recruits draw punishment when they perform the wrong command. Sharpe is glad that Courtenay is not one of them. They spend the rest of the day learning how to maneuver as a company. By sundown, they have marched and marched around the parade ground. Sharpe had been given his share of beatings in the orphanage. When they returned to barracks, he was glad that Crowley and Courtenay left him alone.

For more than a week, they continued to march. They learned cadence, length of step for ordinary and quick times. They marched at all times on given points. Lowry alone had the most troubles learning how to turn. McDowell and Sweeney tried all of the simple punishments to get him to learn. Only after he had to doubletime around the perimeter of the parade ground while wearing a knapsack filled with stones did Lowry learn to march and turn as he was expected.

On days that it rained, they were taught how to care for and use their ‘Necessaries’. McDowell has them stand before their cots in full dress to inspect them. As he walks past each, McDowell barks flaws at the recruit and corrects those that he can. Others he comments to Sweeney to record for the recruit to correct later.

The second week, McDowell started to prepare them to stand in a firing line. First they had to move into and from lines. They learned File Movements, Extending and Closing. To prepare to stand and hold their firelocks, McDowell had them hold a knapsack filled with stones held at arm’s length. He and the guards stood behind them. When a recruit’s arm began to quiver from fatigue a guard would cut across the recruit’s arm with a cane.

McDowell’s training was cruel, but Sharpe and the others built muscles that would serve them well when the time would come to fire volley after volley into an enemy before them.

When Sharpe wasn’t training, he joined with Tom, Andrew Sulley, DeWitt Lowry, Eric Palin and Phil Oakey. The six others from Sowerby Bridge gathered with Nate Crowley while Ben Courtenay kept with the six from Sheffield. As each day passed, they collected in these same groups during training too. Sharpe and the four with him would hurry each morning to the parade ground to claim the rear row first. Nate and Ben would compete then for the remaining spaces before filling in the front row.

Sergeant McDowell watched this race of the recruits to form their lines. He shares an observation with Sweeney. “What do you think of those three? Courtenay, Crowley and Sharpe?”

“Courtenay and Crowley follow Sharpe. Lead their own ‘packs’”

“Aye, for a youngster, Sharpe leads. Even Courtney and Crowley that don’t like him, do what he does.”

“For the year before Sir John took the 51st to Gibraltar, he told us to look for leaders. Told us to ‘Break ‘em first.’ Make ‘em learn to maneuver and fire arms. Then, ‘Develop the intelligence; don’t repress it.’ Watch how they do when we teach ‘em to shoot, eh?”

McDowell believed in the brutal discipline of the training. He could see the results when the men marched and fired. When Moore drilled them with officers and sergeants removed to reflect losses in combat, McDowell had seen how developing leaders enabled the regiment to continue to perform when they lose the ‘official’ leaders. He saw especially how the Light Company needed these leaders in the ranks when they deployed as skirmishers. Moore had required that the instructors give him lists of men from new recruits that would lead when officers, sergeants or corporals were unable or unavailable.

“These lead when we march. No telling how they will do when they shoot.”

“Shoot next week?” Sweeney knows that the next week will be when they teach the drill to load and fire their weapons.

“Aye. Today we march them with the other recruits. Our section with the other four. Time the ‘Hindoos’ learn to march in company size. Make sure ours do better than the other sections, eh?

Five sections of recruits formed on the parade ground. From the beginning, the sergeants marched them in groups of up to twenty. A sergeant from the 33rd’s Grenadier Company would command the company of recruits. McDowell and the other training sergeants would march with each of their sections. By noon, the sergeants had all five sections marching as one. The company deploys from column to line and back time and time until no one fails to march correctly. When they have repeated each move ten times without issue, the men are allowed to rest. While the men stand at ease, McDowell notices an officer watching them.

“Who is that?” He asks Sweeney.

“New Major. Replacing Major Gore.”

“So, he joins the 33rd?” Without being too obvious, McDowell examines the new officer. “Quite a nose on our new major, eh?”

“Boyish and skinny too.” Sweeney had seen the new major briefly when he had arrived. He is surprised how young he appears. He had noted that the officer is thin with a narrow face and how young he appears, but he also noted the officer’s hard eyes. “This one will be more serious than Major Gore has been.”

All who meet Arthur Wesley notice his prominently beaked nose. No sooner had he received the money from his brother, than he sold his captaincy and paid some of his debts. He resigned his Parliament seat. After celebrating his birthday in Dublin, he packed his belongings, gave away his remaining violin and rode to Kinsale. There, he finalized buying the majority from William Gore. At twenty-four, he is young to hold the rank of Major

With each free moment, he has been reading from the library of books on warfare that he has purchased. The newest of the books, ‘Rules and Regulations for the Formations, Field-exercise and Movements of His Majesty’s Forces’ was written only last year by Sir David Dundas. Arthur had met Dundas when he was Adjutant General in Ireland. Dundas’ book is now used as the manual to train recruits. Arthur has concluded that men must train to achieve unit discipline that can deliver coordinated movement and fire. “We must have professional competence at all levels. I must be able to be commanded in order to command. It starts with me.”

As the regiment’s major, Arthur commands one of the regiment’s companies. The 33rd is built around its ten companies. Captains command the Flank companies – the Grenadier and Light, as well as five of the center companies. The colonel, lieutenant colonel and major each command a company as well as manage the entire battalion. As the colonel is a ceremonial role, the man who holds the rank is seldom with the battalion. The lieutenant-colonel sees over the companies. As major, Arthur will be second in command overall. “I need to be able to command forces of any size and composition.”

Arthur watches the soldiers march. He listens how the sergeants call the commands to the recruits. From the books, he knows the commands, but has never given them. “Today, I will put the words I have learned to action.”

He strides forward to where a sergeant stands before the company. “Sergeant”

The Grenadier sergeant turns. He stomps his foot and salutes the major. “Suh!”

“Sergeant I wish to march the company.”

“Sir?”

“Your name, Sergeant?”

“Wynn, suh.”

“Sergeant Wynn, I wish to march with your company, but to be the one who gives the commands.”

“Suh! You will command the men.” Wynn salutes Wesley, pivots to face the company of recruits. “Company, Ten Shun! This here officer will command us now.”

McDowell, Sweeney, Sharpe and the others snap to attention. Wynn pivots again to face Wesley. “Suh! Company ready for your command.”

Arthur steps to the position at the front of the company that a company’s senior sergeant marches.

Richard and his five stand close to the major. He is able to watch and hear the new major talk with the sergeant. For the next hour, Sharpe marches to the commands called out by the major. At one point they were deployed in line and had been turned to the rear, Crowley, who was now behind Sharpe muttered. “Bloody officer. When do we get to rest?”

McDowell heard and responded. “Shut your gob. No talking in the ranks. We rest when the officer says we rest.”

Sharpe whispers to Tom, “Boy doesn’t look much older than us, eh Tom?”

“No. But, he has the money to be an officer. He gets to give the orders.”

McDowell growls. “NO TALKING”

Then, they were off marching, again. Arthur marched them around the parade ground until he was satisfied that he could command correctly to have the men do what he wanted and that the men performed the commands. Only then did he give the training back to Wynn.

“Thank you sergeant. What do you plan for the morrow?”

“Suh! Tomorrow, we train the boyos to perform order of arms. Use firelocks.”

“How much time do you need to instruct?”

“Morning and day after, sections learn to stand, salute and march. Afternoon, drill as company. Three days, sections learn to load and fire. No powder or balls. Next week take them to range. Then, they get powder.”

“Very good Sergeant. I will watch when you train. I wish to command the company at each level of the training.”

“Suh?”

“Sergeant, I wish to learn how to execute and order every command that you will teach.”

Wynn is surprised. None of the officers take any interest in how the men train.

“Sir, would it not be better for you to watch us?”

“Sergeant, I wish that you TEACH me how to execute and give the orders. Is this quite clear?”

“Yes, suh.”

Tom and Sharpe overheard the major talking with the sergeant. “Sergeants are training the major, not just us. Think they will cuss and punish him when he does it wrong?”

“Not likely, Tom.”

Sweeney grunts. “I hear you talking. Shut yer gob, now. If’n I hear you again, you will march extra with yer pack.”

Sharpe and Tom heed the warning as they finish the afternoon drills. Two of the Sheffield men must not have heard. As McDowell’s section was released, the two men were pulled from the others, given packs loaded with rocks and made to run circles around the parade ground. Tom watched them go.

“Corporal meant what he said, eh?”

Sharpe was tired and hungry. He cared only to eat and sleep. He had heard that tomorrow they would learn to use firelocks.

“We train to shoot tomorrow. Don’t care who commands as long as they teach us proper.” Tom nods as he joins Sharpe to go for their meal.



Sergeant McDowell was waiting when Sharpe and the 33rd’s recruits formed for the morning.

“Sweeney, march them to the sea wall.” The seaward side of the fort has a wall with one star point. Below the high wall is a lower wall nearer to the sea. In the space between the two walls, the recruits will learn how to fire their weapons. Sweeney has them form a single line to receive their firelocks, cartridge box and bayonet. He has them form two lines facing the sea.

Sergeant McDowell stands in front of them. He holds a firelock so that all can see it.

“This is the Long Land Pattern Musket. We call it ‘Brown Bess’ It is your firelock. Bess weighs ten and a half pounds. She is fifty-eight and a half inches long. Your bayonet is seventeen inches and attaches to the end of Bess’ barrel. Her barrel is 0.75-inch round. She fires a 0.69-inch ball at one thousand feet per second.” McDowell pats his firelock affectionately. “You will get to know her better than any woman, including your mothers.”

While McDowell has been talking, Sharpe examines his firelock in the manner that the sergeant has been showing them. Behind McDowell at a distance from McDowell, he sees the new major standing with a musket. He has not interrupted the sergeant when he arrived. He appears to be listening to each instruction as intently as any of the recruits.

“There are fifteen steps to load and fire Bess. We give you eight commands to execute the steps. Do as I do with each step.

“On the command ‘Prime and Load’ you will execute the First Step. Hold your firelock in your left hand across your chest.” McDowell holds his musket in the manner he described. Sharpe mimics the sergeant.

“On the command ‘Handle Cartridge’ you will remove a cartridge from your box and hold it.” All the recruits reach into the cartridge box hanging in the middle of their backs.

“On the command ‘Prime’ you will Pull the hammer to the half cock position, so. Push the frizzen forward to expose the pan, so. Bite the tail of the cartridge. Pour a small amount of powder into the pan from the cartridge. Pull the frizzen backward to shut the pan. Some of the recruits drop their cartridges when they pull the hammer or push the frizzen. Sweeney and the privates race to the offending recruit each time. ‘You clumsy clod! You fumble fingered faggot! Pick that cartridge up! Now! Do not drop your cartridge, ever again!”

“On the command ‘About’, hold your firelock with the muzzle pointing upwards. Pour the remaining powder into the muzzle. When we give you a cartridge with a ball, you insert a ball into the muzzle. Push the cartridge paper into the barrel. The paper is called ‘The Wadding’.

“On the command ‘Draw Ramrods’. Remove the ramrod from its storage pipe, the channel, under the firelock’s barrel. Ram the wadding and ball down the barrel. Replace the ramrod in its channel. Lift the firelock. Pull the hammer to the full cock position, like this.”

“On the command ‘Present’, raise your firelock to a firing position. Step your right foot six inches to your rear. Point your left toes to your front. Raise the butt of the firelock to your right shoulder so that you may place your right cheek close to the butt. Close your left eye. With your right eye, look down the barrel from the breech pin to the muzzle.”

“On the command ‘Fire’, fire the firelock by pulling the trigger.” McDowell points his musket towards the sea and pulls the trigger. When the flint that is held in the hammer strikes the frizzen, sparks fly to ignite the powder in the pan and then inside the barrel. The musket bucks against the sergeant’s shoulder. From the muzzle of the musket, a cloud of grey-white smoke erupts.

“Right! Now do as I command..” McDowell steps through each command stopping at ‘Present’. He waits to give the last command until Sweeney and the privates signal him that all the recruits have loaded their muskets correctly and the barrels all point out to sea.

“Fire!”

Sharpe feels the butt of his musket slam his shoulder shortly after he sees the flash in the pan. “Bloody hell, that hurts.”

Sweeney hears Sharpe cry out. “Shut your gob, Sharpe! Next time, hold the stock close to your shoulder.”

McDowell. “Again! Prime and Load!” He pauses after ‘Present’. On the signal from Sweeney, he calls “Fire!”

Sharpe made sure the stock was snug against his shoulder when he pulls the trigger. This time, he feels the musket snap against his shoulder. It hurt, but not enough for him to call out. “Sweeney was right, Tom.” Sweeney is with another recruit who had called out. He does not hear Sharpe and Tom.

McDowell runs them through the commands four more times. Each time, Sweeney and his helpers correct recruits that make mistakes.

“Sergeant McDowell.” McDowell turns to see the new major.

“Suh!”

“Sergeant, be so kind to allow me to issue the commands a few times.”

“Yes, suh!”

Arthur steps forward to stand where McDowell has been. “Detail! Prime and Load!”

Sharpe and the recruits follow the commands just as they had followed McDowell. At ‘Present’, Arthur pauses. He looks to Corporal Sweeney to signal all is ready. “Fire!” Arthur watches the recruits fire. “Again.” He commands them through the steps three more times. At the end of each time, he evaluates the recruits performance and his.

“Very good, Sergeant McDowell. Carry on.” Arthur returns to where he stood earlier.

Sergeant McDowell resumes giving the recruits commands. Today he will have them finish six more times.

Tom growls as they fire for the twelfth time. “These cartridges taste bloody awful.”

Sharpe agrees. “Make you damn thirsty too. How many more times do you think we will do this?

“Too many.”

McDowell calls out. “Again!

Sharpe and Tom follow the commands each time. After the first time he shot, Sharpe avoided Sweeney’s attention. With each series of commands, he became more confident to execute the steps. When they fired four more times, he is happy to hear McDowell tell them that they are finished.

“God I’m thirsty.”

“I am too, Tom. Let’s get water as soon as we can. Think they will give us balls to shoot next?”

“Seems that they will at some time. Need to prove we can hit something.”

The following days that week, they marched. And, for one hour every day, they stood with their arms stretched before them to hold a pack filled with rocks. Any recruit that lowered his arms found himself being struck with a cane. “Arms up! Girly. Arms up! We shoot enemies balls, not their feet!”

Sharpe grows stronger each day from carrying the packs and marching. Since he arrived at the fort, he has done all that he can to avoid the attention of the trainers. By doing what they teach him the correct way as soon as he can, he has succeeded. While they do not praise him for how he performs, the trainers very rarely punish him.

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