[after an altercation between Sharpe and Lieutenants Gibbons and Berry:]
GGibbons
Major Hogan! I have been struck, by a common soldier! I believe the penalty for striking an officer is death.
Death is certainly the penalty for striking that officer, sir. That was Sharpe of the 95th.
GGibbons
What, the ragamuffin that jumped from the ranks? By God, sir, I'll teach him to touch a gentleman. I'll call him out, sir. I'll see him at dawn.
BBerry
I'll second you, old boy.
A duel? Oh, give me your hand, sir! You've a brave fellow, Gibbons. Sharpe's a killer. Killed three French cavalrymen and saved Wellesley's life. Three seconds, slash, cut, thrust. And that's while he was still a Sergeant. Shall we say six o'clock tomorrow morning in the field behind the camp?
[Gibbons swallows, obviously terrified.]
Or shall we say it was damned dark, and you made a damn bad mistake?
GGibbons
Silly mistake. Say no more about it, eh?
Good thinking, Gibbons. Sharpe would've shot out your left eye at a minute past six, and you would've spent all day tomorrow looking up at nothing with the other.
[Sharpe pulls at the stock of one of the South Essex soldiers, revealing the sore flesh beneath]
MLMajor Lennox
Sir Henry says it keeps the chin up.
[disgustedly] There's better ways to keep a chin up.
MLMajor Lennox
Sharpe isn't it? Made a name for yourself in India. Battle of Assaye, if I recall. I was there myself with the 78th.
I saw the 78th advance at Assaye. Man who made a name for himself that day was a major of the 78th. Man by the name of Lennox.
MLMajor Lennox
Ah, a long time ago. I had a life soldiering, then they retired me. My wife died. The South Essex was the best I could get. But thank you for reminding me I used to be a damn good soldier. Now wipe your boots and I'll take you to meet a damn bad one. [Meaning Simmerson]
HSSir Henry Simmerson
Wellesley, ha! Wellesley don't know what makes a good soldier! Not many do. Do you know what makes a good soldier Mister Sharpe?
HSSir Henry Simmerson
And what makes a good soldier, Sharpe?
The ability to fire three rounds a minute in any weather, sir.
Well, sir, on first sighting the enemy, I naturally gave the order to advance; that's my style, sir. The South Essex crossed over the bridge and engaged the enemy. Major Lennox panicked. So then I fell back in good order and destroyed the bridge, sir. I have written to Horse Guards, sir, to state that the South Essex acquitted itself most commendably in discharging both your general order to engage the enemy, and your particular order to destroy the bridge, sir.
Did any officer distinguish himself?
Lieutenant Gibbons led the advance, sir. You may say that he is tied to me by blood. But is it a tie of blood to tie my tongue and rob a brave man of his just reward? No, sir! I move that Lieutenant Gibbons be gazetted captain, sir.
Lieutenant Sharpe dithered, sir. He was cut off when we destroyed the bridge.
This is a report from Major Hogan which differs somewhat from your account, Sir Henry.
Major Hogan is merely an engineer, sir.
Major Hogan's coat buttons up tight over a number of other duties, Sir Henry. Major Hogan reports a number of losses, Sir Henry. He says you first lost your head, and instead of destroying the bridge, you marched over it. He says you then lost your nerve, and ran from a small French patrol. He says you lost ten men, a major, and two sergeants. He says you finally lost your sense of honour, and destroyed the bridge, cutting off a rescue party led by Lieutenant Sharpe. Major Hogan leaves the worst to the last... [stares] He says you lost the King's Colours.
The fault was not mine, Sir. Major Lennox must answer.
[shouting] Major Lennox answered with his LIFE! As you should have done if you had any sense of honour! You lost the Colours of the King of England! You disgraced us, sir! You shamed us, sir! You will answer! [silence] The South Essex is stood down in name. If I wipe the name, I may wipe the shame. I am making you a battalion of detachments; you will fetch and carry. The light company put up a fight, so I will let it stand under the command of a new captain.
To be commanded by the newly gazetted Captain Gibbons, sir?
To be commanded by the newly gazetted Captain Sharpe, sir.
[Sir Henry steps closer and speaks in a threatening tone]
I have a cousin at Horse Guards, sir…and I have friends at Court.
[unmoved] A man who loses the King's Colours loses the King's friendship. You have two choices: to hide in England or be a hero in Spain. I shall help you to be a hero. We had a skirmish with the French today; tomorrow we shall have a battle. You will be the first to see a French column, sir; it is not a pretty sight. What you do then, sir, is up to you. Good morning.
[Sharpe is bathing, Matthews sees the scars of his flogging on his back, and assumes he's a common soldier.]
EMEnsign Matthews
For what crime were you flogged?
MMatthews
Who are you, then, damn you? Gad, I'll have you flogged again, for you've not learned a lesson it seems.
Eh? Nah, I command the Light Company. You?
MMatthews
[backpedaling] I regret, I am Matthews, sir, William. Ensign the South Essex.
Sharpe, Richard, Captain the 95th. I command the Light Company of the South Essex, for the time being. [His voice falters at the end, because the officer riding past is his replacement.]
MMatthews
I do beg your pardon, sir.
You saw my back, Matthews. I was flogged for something I never did. You will often be blamed for something you might not have done. But, being an officer, you will never be flogged. Even for something that you will do.
Obadiah, and a blackguardly officer called Morris, once beat a native Indian half to death for sport, until I stopped them. They blamed me for it, and I was flogged. Watch him, Pat. He preys on the men. He'll snaffle kit, belts, frogs, haversacks, all entered or found lost by Obadiah, which leads to floggings unless he gets paid. Then wives. He beats men till their wives come to him, which I call rape. I've seen his like before. An evil man marching in a cloud of pipeclay. And because he kicks up salutes, obeys every officer, he's bombproof to all but us. We who come up from the ranks, we're smart to him.
I'm a soldier, sir, not a bloody clerk! I fetch, I forage, I count shovels and I take punishment drills! It's "yes sir, no sir, can I dig your latrine sir?" and it's not bloody soldiering!
It is bloody soldiering! What the hell do you think soldiering is? Just because you've been allowed to swan around like a bloody pirate for years...!
Listen, sir! When they fling us up against those walls, you'll be glad there's some pirates there, and not just bloody clerks!
But how to get there, Mr. Sharpe? Lists! And how to be noted you were there? Lists! And what does he send home but lists of dead, dying, sick, honoured and gazetted Captains?
