Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction; War stories
To resume:--We had scarcely reached the hill above the town, which we
were told was to be our bivouac for the night, when the welcome news
came that a food-train had arrived at the station; but there were no
carts to bring the things up, so a fatigue-party went down and carried
back a supply to us in their arms,--loaves, a barrel of rum, packets
of tea, and joints of meat--abundance for all; but there was not a
kettle or a cooking-pot in the regiment, and we could not eat the meat
raw. The colonel and officers were no better off. They had arranged to
have a regular mess, with crockery, steward, and all complete, but the
establishment never turned up, and what had become of it no one knew.
Some of us were sent back into the town to see what we could procure
in the way of cooking utensils. We found the street full of artillery,
baggage-waggons, and mounted officers, and volunteers shopping like
ourselves; and all the houses appeared to be occupied by troops. We
succeeded in getting a few kettles and saucepans, and I obtained for
myself a leather bag, with a strap to go over the shoulder, which
proved very handy afterwards; and thus laden, we trudged back to our
camp on the hill, filling the kettles with dirty water from a little
stream which runs between the hill and the town, for there was none to
be had above. It was nearly a couple of miles each way; and, exhausted
as we were with marching and want of rest, we were almost too tired to
eat. The cooking was of the roughest, as you may suppose; all we could
do was to cut off slices of the meat and boil them in the saucepans,
using our fingers for forks. The tea, however, was very refreshing;
and, thirsty as we were, we drank it by the gallon. Just before it grew
dark, the brigade-major came round, and, with the adjutant, showed our
colonel how to set a picket in advance of our line a little way down
the face of the hill. It was not necessary to place one, I suppose,
because the town in our front was still occupied with troops; but no
doubt the practice would be useful. We had also a quarter-guard, and
a line of sentries in front and rear of our line, communicating with
those of the regiments on our flanks. Firewood was plentiful, for the
hill was covered with beautiful wood; but it took some time to collect
it, for we had nothing but our pocket-knives to cut down the branches
with.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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