Warning: General Audience |
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SHARPE’S MISSION
Richard Sharpe and the Battle of the Nive
Screenplay Written by Eoghan Harris and Bernard Cornwell.
Novel Adapted by Paul Kaster
PART TWO
1813 November
SAINT-PEE-SUR-NIVELLE
Chapter 7
Bugles call the Prince of Wales’ Own to assemble. The Light is drawn up in two rows. They are turned out with their winter kit. They are ready to march and to fight. Lieutenant Richardson had them ready and now waits for the rest of the force to join them.
Pycroft joins them, but stands next to his horse with the pack mules behind the rows of soldiers.
As Sharpe reviews his men, Brand rides up. He is dressed in a simple red jacket and wears a black bandana tied around his head. His barracks hat is rolled and tucked into an epaulet.
As he rides past Sharpe, he stares.
Sergeant Pope rides behind him. As he passes, he glares at Sergeant Harper, who stands next to Sharpe.
Harper steps forward, but Sharpe holds him back.
“Don’t worry, Harper.”
Harper had shared what had happened with Pope and Isabella.
“Your turn will come.”
Harper steps back.
Sharpe turns to the Prince of Wales’ Own.
“Let’s get ‘em movin’.”
Sharpe watches Brand’s men ride ahead.
Harper goes to the Prince of Wales’ Own.
“Company!”
The men snap to attention
“Shoulder. Arms!”
They all raise their weapons to their right shoulders.
Sharpe looks to the window of his room. Jane is there. Neither says a word. Jane raises her hand and waves to Sharpe. Sharpe makes no motion, but his throat is dry at leaving her.
Harper issues “Left turn!”
“At the left wheel, MARCH!”
As a column of two’s they march off to follow Brand’s men.
Nairn chose to ride instead of march. He rides up to join Sharpe. Pycroft avoids Nairn by riding at the rear of the column, but ahead of the four mules that carry the supplies he will need to blow the magazine.
Last to leave, Shellington rides off behind the column. He turns to the window of Sharpe’s quarters. Jane waves enthusiastically to him. He smiles and returns her wave.
It is roughly eleven miles to Anglet. Brand has led his men ahead to find a way through the French lines. Behind, Sharpe’s men march in the direction that Brand reports is open.
The land they will cover to Rocha Fort is wooded hills interspersed with ravines, marshes and streams. With no French intervention, they should arrive at the fort tomorrow.
Nairn dismounts so that he may walk with Sharpe. Harper takes his horse to have one of the muleteers lead it. Sharpe carries his rifle at the ready. Shellington rides behind the muleteers.
Ahead of Sharpe, Brand and Pope only have found the French. From the cover of brush on a hill, they watch them march.
“How far do you think those raggedy soldiers will get tonight, sir?”
“With no rations or blankets, I think they will stop at the nearest water to make camp until the dawn. It will be cold again tonight. Sundown is near.”
“A few may straggle or go on their own, but I think enough of them will be together in the morning for us.”
Brand watches a few moments more, then he goes. Pope follows him. They return to their men to find a camp for the night near, but not too near, to the French. As they are behind the French line, it will be a night without fire. Tomorrow will be a very interesting day for them.
By nightfall, the Prince of Wales’ Own has gone five miles. This is not very far compared to distances they can and have marched when in friendly territory. They are at the edge of the British picket lines. In the morning, they will be prepared to cross the lines to march to Anglet within a day. They make camp, but Sharpe has Pycroft and his supplies camp separately from the rest. After all are settled and it is dark, Sharpe goes to see Pycroft.
Pycroft sits by the fire. Sharpe approaches, but does not sit.
“I’m sorry about keeping you from the rest of the camp. I have my reasons.”
“No need to apologize, Sharpe. I’m used to being on my own.”
Pycroft turns a spit with a slab of meat over the fire.
Sharpe turns away. He pulls two sticks from nearby and then uses them to make a tripod stand near him for his rifle. Before he sits, he waves his hand in the direction that he arrived. From the shadows, Angel enters the light along with one of the muleteers. The muleteer wears a large, floppy felt hat that covers his face.
“Thank you Angel. You may return to the company.”
Angel nods, then turns about.
Sharpe approaches the muleteer. When directly in front of him, but between the muleteer and Pycroft, he removes the muleteer’s hat. Zara pauses to smile at Sharpe. Sharpe takes her hand and points it to Pycroft. She then runs to Pycroft.
Sharpe grins, “Well, you won’t be on your own tonight.”
Pycroft stands to catch Zara in his arms.
Sharpe watches them embrace and smiles.
After a pause, Zara goes to the fire to recover Pycroft’s meal for them.
Pycroft looks to her endearingly, then turns to Sharpe. His voice is heavy with emotion.
“Thank you, Sharpe.”
Sharpe nods then goes back to the main camp.
Pycroft turns to look at Zara, then sits by her.
Zara turns to him. She slowly tries to remove his hood. Pycroft lightly slaps her hand away. But, Zara persists. She raises her arms over his head to untie the laces at the back of the hood. When the laces are free, she pulls the hood forward to reveal Pycroft’s scarred face.
He turns his head in shame. He anticipates that she will be repulsed by his looks.
To his surprise, she takes her hand to hold his face and turn it back to her. She lightly strokes his cheeks, then kisses him.
Sharpe has remained in the dark to watch them. He whistles lightly. From the dark, Daniel Hagman approaches.
“Brings back fond memories, eh, sir?”
Together they watch the couple.
Sharpe doesn’t respond.
“Beg your pardon, sir.”
“It’s alright, Hagman. Just keep an eye on ‘em, eh?”
“Aye, sir.”
“I don’t know who’s about.”
“Don’t worry, sir. Me and this old lass” He holds up his rifle. “will look after ‘em.”
“Angel has the other side of camp too. He is almost as good as me at watching in the woods.”
“We have pickets out around the rest of the camp. This is your area to watch.”
“Yes sir.”
Dan leaves to find a spot to watch Pycroft’s camp and in the direction of anyone likely to try to approach the camp to surprise them.
Shellington sees Sharpe standing near one of the small fires that the Sharpe has allowed his men to burn to keep warm. He cautiously approaches the fire.
“Major Sharpe. I must apologize. I have spent my time on Colonel Brand. I have grossly omitted learning of you and your men.”
Sharpe would be fine not to talk with Shellington. He avoids answering Shellington.
“Your regiment, the Prince of Wales Own Volunteers, was not always called that. Is that not correct?”
“It was the South Essex.”
“When you captured the French Eagle?”
“When HARPER and I captured the Eagle, yes.”
“I don’t recall a South Essex regiment in the list of regiments before Portugal.”
“It was raised in 1805.”
“So, a new regiment. From Essex?”
“Yes, barracks are at Chelmsford.”
“And did you raise the regiment?” Shellington knows the answer to the question.
“No, I did not.” Sharpe says icily. “Majors don’t raise regiments. And, as you see, I wear the green of my regiment, the 95th Rifles.”
“Oh? Oh! Dear me. I may have offended you. I do not intend. Do not intend at all.” But, Shellington is pleased to see that he has offended Sharpe.
Sharpe stares at him as he waits for the next, probing question.
“But, now you do command. Will you become a Lieutenant Colonel?”
“No, it is not likely. I don’t have the funds to buy the commission.”
“So, another Lieutenant Colonel will command then? And, command you?”
Sharpe is annoyed at these questions. Perhaps the way to end this is to give only the minimum answers.
“Yes, most likely.”
“And, yet you command and risk knowing that another will benefit?”
“Yes.” “Very noble of you.”
“I am a soldier.”
“So you are, so you are.”
Sharpe has had enough.
“Mr. Shellington, I must be about being a soldier. Good night to you.”
“Ah, so you must. Thank you Major Sharpe for your time.”
Jane sits at home after dinner. She had Harris prepare a small meal for her. She had Isabella stay with her until she finished her meal. With Isabella as a chaperone, she can avoid having people gossip about her being alone with Harris. As Harris finishes cleaning up, Jane asks Sharpe’s location.
“Harris, where has Major Sharpe gone? Captain D’Alembord will not tell me.”
“Ma’am, I am not in the know about the battalion.”
“Harris, Major Sharpe has trusted you to remain with me while you are under arrest. I think he shares more with you than with anyone other than Sergeant Harper.”
“That is kind of you to say. It may be so for some things. But, Major Sharpe shares with us only what we need to know to fight. As I did not join them, he did not tell me where they go.”
Jane does not believe Harris. But, it is clear that he will say no more.
“Will there be anything more, ma’am?”
“No. Thank you, Harris.”
Isabella watches Harris leave. She decides to seek Jane’s advice.
“Senora, Jane. May I talk with you?”
“Yes, Isabella.”
“My baby will come soon.”
“Yes, you are very large.”
“Two nights before, I was attacked.”
“Attacked? By whom?”
“Yes, attacked. A Sergeant Pope who rides with Colonel Brand tried to have his way with me.”
“Oh, my. Are you hurt? Did he have his way?”
“No, he did not take me. Patrick interrupted him. They fought. I have a few bruises, but I worry about the baby.”
Jane has not helped pregnant women before. But she heard her aunt talk with the nurse about women on the estate.
“I do not have the knowledge of babies. Have you asked any of the other army wives?”
“No, senora. I not ask anyone but you.”
Jane is not sure why Isabella has come to her. Many of the women in the camp have children. Someone must know how to examine Isabella to assure her that her child is well.
“How may I help? “
“You know the doctor. Will you help me to see the doctor, por favor?”
Jane met one of the Army’s Surgeons in the market when Isabella and she had gone shopping.
“Yes, I will arrange for a Surgeon to examine you.”
Isabella begins to weep. “Gracias, senora, gracias.”
A few miles ahead, Brand halts his men to camp for the night.
“Sergeant Pope, with me.”
Brand and Pope scale a hill that overlooks the trail ahead. Brand opens a spyglass to search the horizon before them. Before them is a group of French. It is Colonel Cresson with his guards and the deserter prisoners. The guards direct one group of prisoners of about thirty men off the road. The remainder of the prisoners continues to march away.
“Cresson’s got the bait.”
Pope smiles.
Below them Colonel Cresson has the guards separate the column into the ‘goats’ and the ‘sheep’. He instructs a group of guards to continue with the ‘goats’ towards the fort. The guards herd the ‘sheep’ into line. From the supplies, they give a musket and cartridge box with only ten cartridges to each of the prisoners that are standing by the road.
Cresson addresses the group of ‘sheep’. “France no longer needs you, my children. You are free. Goodbye.”
A sergeant in the group of ‘sheep’ asks, “Colonel, if we are free, why are we given arms?
Cresson leans out of the saddle. “Sergeant. The road from here to wherever you and these men go is dangerous. You may need to defend yourself against bandits or the British. “
The sergeant thinks on this reply. It does not make sense to him. But, since he and these men are being released, he does not question more. They had all believed that they would be executed.
He leaves Cresson to talk with the men. They hear his words. Many smile as they realize that they are free to go. Without a command, some turn and start walking to the south towards the British army. They go in a very unmilitary formation and with their weapons carried lazily in many ways. As one of the last to go, the sergeant turns to salute Cresson, then joins the others.
Cresson turns his horse to go with the guards to catch up with the ‘goats’.
Sharpe returns to the rest of the Light Company. As he comes into the light, he sees Shellington sketching by lantern light. He approaches him to look over his shoulder. The sketch is of soldiers sitting around a fire.
Shellington looks up to Sharpe then back to the sketch. “It is titled ‘Thinking of tomorrow’s battle.’”
Sharpe says, “It should be called ‘Thinking of going home.’, Mr. Shellington.” He turns and walks away.
“The people who buy The Times want to read about the spirit of war, Major Sharpe. And, that is what I am here to sketch.”
Sharpe returns to Shellington. He leafs through the pile of sketches. When he sees the sketch of Brand, he pulls it from the pile to take with him. Shellington is focused on his current sketch and fails to see Sharpe take the Brand sketch with him.
“Carry on Mr. Shellington.”
“Good night, Major Sharpe.”
“Good night, ‘sweet’ prince.”
At this, Shellington pauses to turn to Sharpe, but he has gone.