Free The Sabre's Edge by Allan Mallinson Page B

centre, quick march!’
    The stockade had fallen silent. The going was heavy but Ensign Kerr's dozen grenadiers had kept admirable dressing. They had but twenty yards to go.
    Kerr raised his sword. 'Double march!'
    A ragged volley greeted them. A ball struck the hilt of Kerr's sword, knocking it from his hand. Another struck him in the groin so that he staggered left and right, then fell to his knees, his mouth open. The line wavered.
    The serjeant, his face a picture of horror, shouted for them to keep going as he rushed to the ensign.
    'No, no. That's not the way,' groaned Captain Birch, seeing plainly the loss of momentum. He pointed his sword at the fort. 'Company, double march !’
    It was not what he'd wanted to do - not to blow them all by doubling through this mud. They'd need every bit of breath to scale the walls. But he couldn't have the picket faltering.
    Hervey saw it too. These Burmans were a deal more resolute than the others. If they could volley as fast as British infantry they had less than half a minute to get to the lee of the stockade.
    It was as well the defenders were more resolute than capable, for the mud clung to the grenadiers' feet as if demons were trying to pull them into hell. Never did Hervey think himself so powerless.
    He could scarcely get his breath as they made the walls. The others looked no better, and some much worse. Furious musketry from above felled two corporals and enveloped the walls in smoke. A ball struck a grenadier full in the mouth. He ran back towards the river squealing like a stuck pig until another ball sent him sprawling in the mud, choking his way to a merciful death.
    Hervey crouched watching as two grenadiers holding a musket between them put their shoulders to the wall.
    A third, a big Irishman, jumped onto it. 'By Jasus I'll not spare one of them!' he cursed as they heaved him up full stretch.
    Hervey could only marvel at their strength - and then at the Irishman's raw fight as he withstood the rain of blows to his head and hands. He got a footing on the parapet and at once the defenders shrank back, but another rushed him with a spear, and the point sank deep in his chest. The Irishman seized the man's head with both hands and they fell to the ground as one.
    Hervey drew his pistol to despatch the executioner, but the grenadiers beat him to it.
    There was no shortage of volunteers for the escalade. The lieutenant himself, not long out of his teens, was now hauling himself up, his sword in his mouth like a pirate boarding a prize.
    Where were the ladders, wondered Hervey? Why were they going against stockades without so much as a grapple and line?
    'Will you be going, sir?' called another of the grenadiers, as if they were asking if he intended taking a walk.
    'Me first, sir,' said Corporal Wainwright, his foot on the musket in an instant.
    Up it went before Hervey could protest. Wainwright, a jockey-weight compared with the grenadiers, was almost flung over the parapet.
    He rolled forward in a neat somersault and sprang to his feet facing the way he had come, sabre already in hand. A clumsy lunge from a spearman was met by a parry and then a terrible slice which parted the spear, and the hand gripping it, from its wielder. Another two spearman backed away at once. 'Clear, sir!' he called.
    Hervey clambered up the same way seconds later, by which time Wainwright had accounted for the reluctant supports. He looked at his covering-corporal's handiwork, and nodded: he could not have done it neater himself - perhaps not even as neat.
    Left and right, all along the parapet, there were grenadiers duelling with Burmans. Theirs was not so neat work - the jabbing bayonet, the boot, the butt end. There were few shots, a pistol here or there. It was the brute strength of beef-fed redcoats and good steel that were carrying the day, although the grenadiers had had precious little beef this month.
    The parapet was now treacherous, running as much with blood as rain. Hervey nearly