Company Of Spears

Hervey was impressed by the promptness with which it had been both written and delivered. Had it not been for the mention of casualties, he could have thought it composed in anticipation the night before. Why was the General Officer Commanding troubling to rise so early? Hervey had never known such dispatch, not even in the Peninsula. But without doubt it brought distinction, and that was some consolation. An ill wind, such as could do no harm to his purchase of command…

‘Gratifying,’ he said simply, handing back the paper. ‘You had better tell Sarn’t-major Armstrong he will stand duty for Mr Hairsine until Tully is returned from leave.’

‘He is already at orderly room, sir. Sarn’t-major Tully is not due back for another month. Shall I recall him?’

Hervey did not hesitate. Tully may have been the senior, but he was not Armstrong. ‘No. Would you have the sarn’t-major come in. And I’ll see him door-closed.’

The adjutant left him with his brandy. Moments later Hervey heard the words of command in the corridor: ‘Staff parade, stand easy!’ as the acting-RSM temporarily stood down his orderlies so he could attend on the acting commanding officer. To Hervey the voice sounded exactly as it ought: the ill wind had blown a little more good than he had first supposed.

‘Sarn’t-major Armstrong, sir.’

‘Thank you, Mr Vanneck.’

The adjutant closed the door as Armstrong marched in, very formally, and saluted. ‘Sir.’

Hervey, seated, put down the brandy glass. ‘Stand easy, Sarn’t-major.’

‘How’s Mr Hairsine and the others, sir?’

‘His shoulder is broken, but it will mend well the surgeon says. Captain Worsley’s leg is cut up, but he’ll make good. The dragoons will be well, too, though Brunton’s very poorly. We’ll not see him at duty in months.’

Armstrong sighed. ‘Bastards!’

Hervey stood up and walked to the window.

‘What do you make of it all?’

‘I can tell you what the men’s saying, sir. They weren’t no frightened paddies doing all the shooting last night.’

Hervey nodded. ‘We walked into something, and I’m damned if I know what it was.’

‘And I don’t know why we couldn’t have waited till morning and had a proper scout about.’

‘We were ordered very emphatically to withdraw before daylight.’

‘Bad business.’

Hervey turned. ‘It is. But we’d better gather the reins up quickly. I want to put Wainwright in Brunton’s place, make him lance-serjeant. What do you think?’

Armstrong tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Hervey knew from long years what this signalled. ‘I know the objections, but the man is quite exceptional, and if we do not promote younger men then how shall we have sarn’t-majors enough to find good RSMs?’

‘An eight-year man for serjeant? They’ll say he’s your favourite, sir. That you’re promoting him for what happened in Spain.’

‘And Ava.’

‘Ay, sir, and Ava.’

‘And why not? If we promote alone by seniority then it’s mere dead men’s boots. Are we not to reward address and courage?’

‘There’s two men in E Troop alone his senior. There must be a dozen more in the regiment. What will that say to them as does their duty quietly every day?’

‘It will say that exceptionally a corporal their junior merits superseding them. See, it wasn’t so bad when there were eight troops, but the reductions—’

‘He’ll have the devil of a time from the serjeants, and some of the serjeant-majors won’t be too pleased either.’

‘He has the disposition to deal with the serjeants, and you have it to deal with the serjeant-majors. Do you oppose me in this then?’

Armstrong frowned. ‘Not at all, sir. I’d make ‘im serjeant tomorrow. You asked me what I thought, and I think there’ll be trouble. But I wouldn’t be frightened by it.’

Hervey nodded, slowly. ‘Very well. I’ll publish in today’s orders.’ He sat down. ‘Now, if you can see to the day’s routine, I shall go to see Mr Kirwan and A Troop’s horses.’

Armstrong shook his head. ‘There’s a dozen of ‘em down this morning, I heard.’

That was close to the last straw. Hervey felt as if one of them had kicked him in the groin.

‘Mr Kirwan, a word, if you please.’ It was entirely proper for Hervey to address the veterinary officer formally in front of dragoons, but it sounded so alien, even to Hervey’s own ears, that he regretted saying anything at all. Yet say something he must, for the farcy had very evidently taken a hold of A Troop’s horses, and the contagion might be abroad in others even as they spoke.

The veterinarian, coatless, was bathing the eyes of one of the older geldings. He peered over his spectacles. ‘Why certainly, Major Hervey.’ He gave the bowl to his assistant. ‘Just a minute or so more sponging, Tress. Just see all the detritus is out.’

He took up his coat and walked towards the end of the stalls, where Hervey stood tapping the side of his overalls with his whip.