Elliot"s only reply was a long snore. Jack looked at him. "Lucky bugger," he said, "you"re going to be a general, and you know your mother." He sighed and relapsed into a daydream where he walked up the drive of Wychwood Manor with Helen at his side, showing her the wonders of his ancestral home, with the centuries of Windrush history and all the memories of his childhood. "You"ll be the lady of the manor Helen," he promised in his mind. "You"ll get to love the old place as much as I do."
Jack sighed again as the whisky made him melancholic. He knew he could never return to Wychwood Manor; he could never take his place as master of the house in which he had grown up. He was destined to be a low ranking officer in the disreputable 113th, fighting bloody campaign after bloody campaign until
