But he was also conscious of having ignominiously surrendered to the will of Sergeant Hakeswill and so he slowly coloured as he gazed towards the west. Lawford was popular, but thought to be weak, though Sharpe was not so sure of that judgement. He thought the Lieutenant was still finding his way among the strange and sometimes frightening human currents that made up the 33rd, and that in time Lawford would prove a tough and resilient officer. For now, though, William Lawford was twenty-four years old and had only recently purchased his lieutenancy, and that made him unsure of his authority.

Ensign Fitzgerald, who was only eighteen, strolled back from the column's head. He was whistling as he walked and slashing with a drawn sabre at tall weeds. 'Off in a moment, sir, he called up cheerfully to Lawford, then seemed to become aware of the Light Company's ominous silence. 'Not frightened, are you? he asked.

'Saving their breath, Mister Fitzgerald, sir, Hakeswill snapped.

'They've got breath enough to sing a dozen songs and still beat the enemy, Fitzgerald said scornfully. 'Ain't that so, lads?

'We'll beat the bastards, sir, Tom Garrard said.

'Then let me hear you sing, Fitzgerald demanded. 'Can't bear silence. We'll have a quiet time in our tombs, lads, so we might as well make a noise now. Fitzgerald had a fine tenor voice that he used to start the song about the milkmaid and the rector, and by the time the Light Company had reached the verse that told how the naked rector, blindfolded by the milkmaid and thinking he was about to have his heart's desire, was being steered towards Bessie the cow, the whole company was bawling the song enthusiastically.

They never did reach the end. Captain Morris, the Light Company's commanding officer, rode back from the head of the battalion and interrupted the singing. 'Half-companies! he shouted at Hakeswill.