‘Drop summat, sir?’ An urchin voice rose from the sprawled line of soldiers behind the officers as another ball sang far overhead. There were sniggers.
‘Who said that?’ Carmichael whirled to confront his accuser but saw nothing but ranks of whiskery, grinning faces.
‘Leave it, Carmichael...’ Eddington knew that the senior of his two subalterns had lost the moral battle with the troops, the very men whom he would have to lead into action, ‘...look yonder at our guns.’
Three of the six-pounders were now wheeling hard against the slope whilst the nearby cavalry did their best to cover them with carbine fire. This was one of the most difficult manoeuvres possible for horse artillery as they would present a vulnerable flank and tail to the enemy guns as they brought their own pieces into act
