Worth Their Colours (105th Foot. The Prince of Wales Own Wessex Regiment.) by McDowell Martin

Author:McDowell, Martin [McDowell, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: FeedaRead
Published: 2015-01-18T05:00:00+00:00

oOo

The next day was Sunday and its laws and traditions were obeyed. Whilst the men were confined to barracks there was no drill and Officers’ privileges allowed a visit to the town, with orders to return in time for evening Church Parade. It was Drake who provided the driving force.

“I think, as we are here, that we take a walk up there.”

Both Carr and Rushby looked at Drake in puzzlement, but all was made clear when they saw that he was pointing to the top of The Rock.

“We should get you, Barnaby, you and your sketchbook, up to the top. To make a recording, as it were. Parade back here in five minutes.”

The walk to the town was short and the town itself quaint and charming; narrow walls, gleaming white, leaned in upon narrow cobbled streets, shaded and cool, with the inhabitants themselves providing the enhancing colour; bright dresses, scarves, hats and sashes. Finding the way to the top was easy, it was simply a question of taking any road that led uphill and soon they were on the single road to the summit. Several Gibraltarians, mindful of the attractions to visitors of reaching the top, had set up a donkey station where the ascent became steep and their Spanish keepers, on spying the three Officers, began, with gestures and blandishments, to try to steer them to where the animals were tethered.

“Senors! Subirse les burros. Montar a burro a la cima. Trez pesos.”

Drake turned to the others, but they continued walking.

“I think he wants us to ride a donkey to the top. Should we, do you think?”

It was Carr who replied.

“I won’t hear of it. We’re Light Company!”

The climb was indeed steep and the mood became more sombre as the white dust road continued up the hill to a summit that seemed to remain stubbornly the same distance away. However, their mood soon lightened as, from some way off, they spied two red coated Officers, descending the track, each mounted on their own donkey. It was Rushby who stopped, his eyesight being perfect, and exclaimed his conclusion.

“I do believe, yes, yes it is, I’m sure, Lieutenant D’Villiers and Captain Carravoy.”

A careful look from their own eyes confirmed the same for Drake and Carr. Without a word all three stopped, the better to study the spectacle. The comedy grew as the distance lessened. D’Villiers was doing his best to maintain a dignified seat in the saddle, but the absence of stirrups was making that impossible. The rapid gait of the donkey was throwing him around at all angles, whilst he tried to control the animal with the reins, this being made more difficult with the donkey being eager to return, it knowing that this direction took it back to food, drink and rest. D’Villiers attempted manipulation of the reins was, in fact, superfluous, the keeper was running alongside holding the bridle of each. D’Villiers was clinging on, with nothing to cling on to.

But the picture created by D’Villiers was one of sedate dignity compared to what was happening to Carravoy.

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