SIX
Balaklava
‘I dunno if it’s just another bloody flap, sir, but they do seem to be squaring up for a fight.’ Sergeant Ormond spoke for all of the carrying party.
Twenty-five men, one sergeant and five mules under Lieutenant Morgan had set off from the Inkermann position just as daylight broke on the long haul down into Balaklava to pick up supplies, powder and shot. Although the trip downhill was easy enough and time in the harbour always gave the troops the opportunity to gather news and a few luxuries, the return was backbreaking. Coarse, wet, empty sandbags, wooden staves, barrel hoops and all manner of awkward, heavy, dead-weight kit were bad enough. Worst of all were the square, painted wooden boxes of rifle ammunition that were specially designed, everyone knew, to take the skin
