We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors...with a soldier

[simplestgift]

Who: Norrington (abidinglaw ), Hornblower (captainhornblower ), Sharpe (greenjacketed ), Bush (wouldntbetonit ), Kennedy (simplestgift ), and Wellard (bravelad ).
What: Officers' dinner.
When: The 23rd at four o'clock
Where: The captain's cabin of the Britannia
Summary: Archie's feeling like recapturing some of the magic officer dinners used to have when Aubrey and Maturin were here.
Rating: A is for Awkward, B is for Bonaparte, C is for Cinnamon, D is for.../shuts up

So Archie isn't Aubrey, but he's tried to make things warm and have lots of good food.  He's done pretty well, but his attempts to replace the captain of which he was so fond aren't perfect.  The beef is, perhaps, just a tad drier, the pudding a teensy bit too moist, and other such nitpicks, but hey.  One of you try it.

Comments

[simplestgift]

"It's always different on board a navy ship. Lives at stake and all." He swirls the port in his glass. "It makes those in command believe even the worst conditions perfectly acceptable so long as they're not the ones suffering from it."

[greenjacketed]

...A retort of laughter. Comradely, almost. Sympathetic. "It's no different in the army, Lieutenant. Lieutenant Colonels wanderin' about with chairs and velvet and gold in their chests. Trying so hard to make each new tent like their London townhouse."

[simplestgift]

"Presumably they are able to stand up in these tents." Blink blink. "I was in a land engagement once, with the army, but I don't remember sleeping. Major Lord Edrington very possibly had a tent much like the one you described."

[greenjacketed]

Of course he did, Sharpe thought. The clue was in the lord.

"Well, you wouldn't, would you? Sleep. Whilst engaged. Or -- some would. Knew a sergeant who could sleep through a whole battery of French guns.

How'd you fare, then?"

[simplestgift]

"Oh, I couldn't possibly say we were set up for failure. To do so would border on treason."

[greenjacketed]

A sigh. "Might as well say it, Kennedy. We've no provosts here to hang us and so I'll hardly shy away from saying I've lived through some of the same."

[simplestgift]

"You won't take offense? Then we were set up for failure. Either that, or Admiral Hood is one of the greatest fools we have in the Navy, and we've no shortage of those."

[greenjacketed]

"Offense?" A shake of his head. "No. None at all."

Sharpe was no stranger to the army setting him up for all sorts of failures. Problem was, he kept overcoming those obstacles. Succeeding anyway. Sheer willpower kept him clinging to a social ladder that many would see him kicked off of.

"Tell us what happened, Lieutenant."

[simplestgift]

Archie's eyes tic up to Horatio. The action at Muzillac is an even less pleasant memory for his friend as it is for him.

"Nonsense, for the most part. A rag-tag collection of French Royalists attempting to reclaim their country, and we under orders to help them however we could. I do believe the Republicans took all the real soldiers; otherwise, we'd have had no trouble beating them. The emigres were a disgrace."

[greenjacketed]

A curt but sympathetic nod. Sharpe was reminded of the Real Compania Irlandese -- the captive king of Spain's royal bodyguard, filled with awfully terribly trained soldiers of Irish blood. Distrusted by the the British General, they were ordered to garrison a fort so close to the French lines that desertion was to be a problem. Sharpe soon realized that desertion was actually, in fact, the whole point. Wellington getting rid of the slack by encouraging one great failure. And Sharpe was to be the man to orchestrate it all.

He hadn't been pleased.

"And did you fail, as was expected?"

[simplestgift]

"Of course we did. Some of us landed at Muzillac as the diversion, the bulk at Quiberon Bay. The Republicans were not waiting for us at Muzillac."

He sits back, away from his plate.

[greenjacketed]

"Sold out?" He asked. "Betrayed?"

[simplestgift]

"They wouldn't say as much, but..."

[greenjacketed]

"...Bloody hell," the Major swore. He couldn't help himself. That sort of dirty dealing truly irked him. It led to so much needless death. Lives that could have been spent more fruitfully.

[simplestgift]

"...I was an acting-lieutenant. I lost some good men to sniper fire." A beat. "And some very stupid ones as well, but they were under my command."

It's weird. He doesn't even talk about this stuff with Horatio. Maybe because he doesn't have to. This is the first time he's really said anything about it, and he's not sure that he wants to continue.

[greenjacketed]

"Don't matter -- dumb as rocks or the model tin soldier." Every loss was felt when they were yours. Your losses, under your command. It had shocked him, at first. The difference between being a fellow private and being the one with the lives in his hands. Acceptable causalities had quickly become thorns in his soul.

Briefly, Sharpe wondered how these men had viewed their Acting-Lieutenant. Harper's voice rumbled in the back of his mind: there are only two kinds of officers; killing officers and murdering officers -- killing officers are poor old buggers that get you killed by accident and murdering officers are mad, bad old buggers that get you killed on purpose. For a reason...for a country or a religion. Maybe even a flag.

[simplestgift]

Would Sharpe believe many of Kennedy's men saw him with the face of one of their own sons, if they had them? Kennedy certainly didn't.

"No. It doesn't matter at all."

[greenjacketed]

Believe it, he would. Believe it and count on it. Thanks to his own delayed entrance into an officer's world, many of the men immediately above his rank were so so young. Nephews and grandsons and sons with their commissions purchased for them at the earliest age possible -- off to make a name for themselves in Portugal and Spain.

Set up to fail, though. Sharpe cleared his throat. Kennedy had shared with him, and so: "Do you Navy sorts know what a Forlorn Hope is?"

[simplestgift]

"We might call it something else."

[greenjacketed]

"In the army, it's the name what's given to the men who first breach a sieged fortress or town. They, too, are set for failure. Only they volunteer for it, don't they..."

[simplestgift]

"Good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder; they’ll fill a pit as well as better," Archie quotes grimly.

[greenjacketed]

"What's that, Lieutenant?"

Because it was something, but Sharpe's knowledge of the Bard was...well. Limited.

[simplestgift]

"Er--Henry IV."

[greenjacketed]

"Who? The bloody ki--" A pause. Sharpe took a gulp of wine. No wonder Kennedy had made the comment before about Sparrow not caring to join this sort of thing. The Major now found himself pining for simpler conversations by a stealthy fire. Tea and roast catfish. The mission had been easier, in one way, than living in this damn village.

"He's long dead, ain't he?"

[simplestgift]

"The Shakespeare play." What, not every kid sneaked away from their parents and sabotaged the ushers with a winning smile to gain entry into the current (or classic) sensation?