All in Scarlet Uniform (Napoleonic War 4) by Adrian Goldsworthy Page A

and nights ever since we came up here,’ said the bespectacled Lieutenant Mercer. The three battalions of the Light Brigade had arrived at the end of January and, supported by Hanoverian Hussars of the King’s German Legion, they formed the advance posts of the British army. Since then it had rained almost every day.
    ‘Still better than “Dough Boy hill”.’ That was Simmons, a small, very keen youngster who was undoubtedly on his first campaign.
    ‘True enough. We had almost one hundred men in the company when we landed, part of one of the finest brigades ever to leave England.’
    ‘Yes, I remember seeing you arrive at Talavera,’ said Williams. The Light Brigade had force-marched very hard, but still missed the battle itself.
    ‘You were there, Mr Williams?’ asked Simmons.
    ‘In Mackenzie’s Division.’ Williams felt the mood warming towards him. ‘Captain Pringle was wounded near the end of the battle.’ Pringle had a patrol of Spanish soldiers camped and forming its own outpost a mile and a half further down the River Agueda. Now that the British outposts were ahead of Fort La Concepción and the French had come closer, MacAndrews was extending the training to give more direct experience. In turn, parties of thirty new recruits were sent out on route marches and patrols, with some of the experienced Spanish NCOs and British leaders in charge of them. The French were enough of a presence to help give a sense of purpose to what they were teaching, and care was taken not to expose the training parties too much. This was the furthest forward they had been.
    ‘Well, in just over half a year since then we have lost more than forty men – and none to the French,’ Mercer added. ‘Fever and flux in the main. And so, yes, Mr Simmons, rain or not, it is certainly a good deal healthier up here in the north.
    ‘And rain or not, it is time to do the rounds. Perhaps you will be kind enough to show our guests something of the position?’ The young officer nodded eagerly in response. ‘I’ll not take you down to the pickets themselves, though, Mr Williams,’ Mercer continued. ‘Unfamiliar voices and more people than they expect on a dark night is a recipe for a mistake.’
    Williams understood the caution. At least the rain had stopped, and he was just thinking that it should not be too uncomfortable stepping out into the night without his greatcoat when Dobson appeared, bringing it with him. The sergeant and a Spanish corporal named Gomez joined them as the enthusiastic Simmons showed them the position.
    ‘This is the company’s alarm post,’ he said, tapping the side of a big boulder some fifty yards short of the crest of the ridge. The cloud had cleared for the moment and a bright moon revealed the rugged landscape at the top of the bluff. Simmons led them up. There was just a gleam in the valley below to suggest the line of the river. ‘We have to report every day on the height of the water. At the moment all the rain means that it is almost at flood. Hence the advance of the infantry so far, because most of the fords are too deep to use. If it were dry, we would be further back and only the cavalry so far forward.’
    Williams did his best to explain to Lieutenant Dolosa. His Spanish was improving, and the Spaniard now had a smattering of English, but these were complicated matters. Gomez understood English quite well, and that was the reason they had chosen to bring him.
    ‘Where are your sentries?’ asked Williams.
    ‘Two men on the bridge itself, and then a sergeant’s picket of a dozen men some fifty yards further back up the slope. The path winds tightly on both sides as it climbs up the valley. The rest of the company are where you saw them in the chapel, with half always kept awake, and then three companies back in the village of Barba del Puerco.’
    ‘Beard of a pig,’ said Williams.
    ‘I beg your pardon, Mr Williams?’
    ‘I think that is what the name means – pig’s beard,’ he