bcornwell.sharpescompany-第22节

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e　west　wall。　Looks　easy　enough；　doesn't　it？'　It　did　not　look　easy。　Even　at　four　miles　Sharpe　could　see　the　huge　bastions；　jutting　like　miniature　castles；　that　protected　the　wall。　Hogan's　accent　was　being　more　pronounced　as　it　always　did　when　the　Engineer　spoke　with　passion。　'It　looks　too　easy！　They　want　us　to　attack　there。　Why？　My　guess　is　that　it's　mined。　There's　more　bloody　powder　under　that　glacis　than　Guy　Fawkes　dreamed　of。　We　attack　there　and　we　give　St　Peter　his　busiest　day　since　Agincourt！'　He　was　really　angry　now；　seeing　with　his　Engineer's　eye　the　problems；　turning　the　problems　into　blood。　'That　leaves　the　south　wall。　We　have　to　take　at　least　one　outlying　fort；　perhaps　two；　and　then　get　through　the　walls。　Do　you　know　how　thick　they　are？　What　was　the　distance　from　the　brink　of　the　ditch　to　the　back　of　the　walls　at　Ciudad　Rodrigo？'
　
　Sharpe　thought　back。　〃Thirty　yards？　Fifty　in　some　places。'
　
　'Aye。'　Hogan　pointed　back　to　Badajoz。　'A　hundred　yards；　at　least；　and　more　in　some　places。　And　that　ditch　is　a　bastard；　Richard；　a　real　bastard。　It'll　take　a　minute　to　cross　it；　at　least；　and　they　have　all　the　flank　fire　they'll　ever　need；　and　more。　That　wall；　Richard；　is　big。　Big！　You　could　put　Ciudad　Rodrigo's　wall　in　that　ditch　and　you　wouldn't　even　see　it。　Don't　you　understand？　It　is　a　killer。'　He　said　the　words　distinctly；　trying　to　convince　Sharpe。　Hogan　sighed；　'Jesus！　We　can　starve　them　out。　We　can　hope　they　die　laughing；　we　can　hope　they　get　the　plague；　but　I　tell　you；　Richard；　I　don't　know　if　we　can　get　through　a　breach。'
　
　Sharpe　stared　at　the　great　fortress　in　the　slanting；　hissing　rain。　'We'll　have　to。'
　
　'And　do　you　know　how？　By　throwing　so　many　poor　bastards　into　the　fight　that　the　French　simply　can't　kill　them　all。　It's　the　only　way　and　I　don't　like　it。'
　
　Sharpe　turned　back。　'The　poor　bastards　will　still　need　a　Forlorn　Hope。'
　
　'And　there　has　to　be　a　bloody　fool　to　lead　it；　I　suppose；　and　you're　proving　a　fool！　For　God's　sake；　Richard；　why　do　you　want　the　Hope？'
　
　Sharpe's　anger　flared。　'Because　it's　better　than　this　humiliation！　I'm　a　soldier；　not　a　bloody　clerk！　I　fetch　bloody；　forage；　count　bloody　shovels；　and　take　punishment　drills。　It's　yes；　sir；　no；　sir；　can　I　dig　your　latrine；　sir；　and　it's　not　bloody　soldiering！'
　
　Hogan　glared　at　him。　'It　is　bloody　soldiering！　What　the　hell　else　do　you　think　soldiering　is？〃　The　two　men　were　facing　each　other　across　the　mud。　'Do　you　think　we　can　win　a　war　without　forage？　Or　without　shovels？　Or；　God　help　us；　without　latrines？　That　is　soldiering！　Just　because　you've　been　allowed　to　swan　about　like　a　bloody　pirate　for　years　doesn't　mean　you　shouldn't　take　your　turn　at　the　real　work。'
　
　'Listen；　sir。　'　Sharpe　was　close　to　shouting。　'When　they　tell　us　to　climb　those　bloody　walls；　you'll　be　glad　there　are　some　bloody　pirates　in　the　ditch　and　not　just　bloody　clerks！'
　
　'And　what　will　you　do　when　there　are　no　more　wars　to　fight？'
　
　'Start　another　bloody　one。'　Sharpe　began　to　laugh。　'Sir。'
　
　'If　you　survive　this　one。'　Hogan　shook　his　head；　his　anger　dying　as　quickly　as　it　had　flared。　'Good　God；　man！　Your　woman's　inside。　And　your　child。'
　
　'I　know。'　Sharpe　shrugged。　'But　I　want　the　Hope。'
　
　'You'll　die。'
　
　'Ask　Wellington　for　me。'
　
　The　Irishman　frowned。　'You're　just　hurting　in　your　pride；　that's　all。　In　two　months；　it　will　be　a　bad　dream；　I　promise。'
　
　'Maybe。　I　still　want　the　Hope。'
　
　'You're　a　stubborn；　bloody　fool。'
　
　Sharpe　laughed　again。　'I　know。　Colonel　Windham　says　I　need　humility。'
　
　'He's　right。　It's　a　wonder　any　of　us　like　you　at　all；　but　we　do。'　He　shrugged。　'I'll　talk　to　the　General　for　you；　but　I'm　making　no　promises。　'　He　gathered　the　reins　into　his　hand。　'Would　you　give　me　a　leg　up？　If　it's　not　beneath　your　dignity。　'
　
　Sharpe　grinned；　heaved　the　Major　on　to　his　horse。　'You'll　ask　him　for　me？'
　
　'I　said　I'd　talk　to　him；　didn't　I？　It's　not　his　decision；　you　know　that。　It　belongs　to　the　General　of　the　attacking　Division。'
　
　'But　they　listen　to　Wellington。'
　
　'Aye；　that's　true。　'　Hogan　pulled　on　the　reins；　and　then　checked　himself。　'You　know　what　tomorrow　is？'
　
　'No。'
　
　'Tuesday；　March　the　seventeenth。'
　
　'So？'　Sharpe　shrugged。
　
　Hogan　laughed。　'You're　a　heathen；　an　unrepentant；　doomed　heathen；　so　you　are。　St　Patrick's　Day。　Ireland's　day。　Give　Sergeant　Harper　a　bottle　of　rum　for　being　a　good　Catholic。'
　
　Sharpe　grinned。　'I　will。'
　
　Hogan　watched　the　South　Essex　break　up　step　as　they　marched　over　the　bridge；　followed　by　Sharpe　and　his　raggle…taggle　of　women；　children；　servants；　and　mules。　Hogan　was　saddened。　He　counted　the　tall　Rifleman　as　a　friend。　Perhaps　Sharpe　was　arrogant；　but　Hogan；　along　with　all　the　engineering　in　his　head；　kept　more　than　a　little　of　Shakespeare。　In　peace　there's　nothing　so　bees　a　man　as　modest　stillness　and　humility。　But　this　was　not　peace；　this　was　a　horrid　campaign　and　tomorrow；　St　Patrick's　Day；　the　army　would　start　digging　towards　Badajoz。　Hogan　knew　that　stillness　and　humility　would　not　capture　the　fortress。　Time　might；　but　Wellington　would　not　give　them　time。　The　General　was　worried　that　the　French　field　armies；　bigger　than　the　British；　might　march　to　the　rescue。　Badajoz　must　be　taken　swiftly；　paid　for　in　blood；　and　the　assault　would　e　soon；　too　soon；　perhaps　even　before　Lent　was　over。　Hogan　did　not　relish　the　prospect。　The　wall　could　be　closed　up　with　the　English　dead。　He　had　promised　he　would　talk　to　Wellington；　and　so　he　would；　but　not　as　Sharpe　had　hoped。　Hogan　would　do　a　friend's　duty。　He　would　ask　the　General；　if　it　were　possible；　that　Sharpe's　request　should　be　refused。　He　would　save　Sharpe's　life。　It　was；　after　all；　the　very　least　he　could　do　for　a　friend。
　
　PART　THREE
　
　St　Patrick's　Day；　March　17th
　to
　Easter　Sunday；　March　29th　1812
　
　CHAPTER　12
　
　If　a　man　could　have　found　a　new…fangled　hot　air　balloon　and　flown　it　over　Badajoz；　he　would　have　looked　down　at　a　city　shaped　like　the　quarter　segment　of　a　cogged　wheel。　The　castle；　ancient　stone　on　rock；　was　the　giant　axle　boss。　The　north　and　east　walls　were　spokes；　leaving　the　axle　at　right　angles　to　each　other；　while　the　south　and　west　walls　joined　in　a　long；　rough　curve　that　was　studded　with　seven　huge　cogs。
　
　It　was　impossible　to　attack　from　the　north。　The　city　was　built　on　the　bank　of　the　River　Guadiana；　wider　at　Badajoz　than　the　Thames　at　Westminster；　and　the　only　approach　lay　across　the　long；　ancient　stone　bridge。　Every　yard　of　the　bridge　was　covered　by　the　guns　mounted　on　the　city's　north　wall　while；　across　the　river；　the　bridge　entrance　was　guarded　by　three　outlying　forts。　The　largest；　San　Cristobel；　could　house　more　than　two　regiments。　The　French　were　sure　that　there　could　be　no　attack　from　the　north。
　
　The　east　wall；　the　other　spoke；　was　more　vulnerable。　At　its　northern　end　was　the　castle；　high　and　huge；　a　fortress　that　had　dominated　the　landscape　for　centuries；　but　south　of　the　castle；　the　city　wall　was　on　lower　ground　and　faced　towards　a　hill。　The　French　knew　the　danger　and；　just　where　the　castle　hill　dropped　steeply　to　the　lower　city；　they　had　dammed　the　Rivillas　stream。　Now　the　vulnerable　east　wall　was　protected　by　a　sheet　of　flood　water；　as　wide　as　the　river　to　the　north；　and　running　far　to　the　south　of　the　city。　As　Hogan　had　said　to　Sharpe；　only　the　navy　could　attack　across　the　new　lake；　unless　the　dam　could　be　blown　up　and　the　lake　drained。
　
　Which　left　the　huge　curve　of　the　south　and　west　walls；　a　curve　nearly　a　mile　long　that　had　no　convenient　river　or　stream　to　offer　protection。　Instead　there　were　the　cogs　on　the　wheel's　rim；　the　seven　vast　bastions　that　jutted　out　from　the　city　wall；　each　bastion　the　size　of　a　small　castle。　San　Vincente　was　the　most　northerly；　built　beside　the　river　at　the　angle　of　the　north　and　west　walls；　and　from　the　San　Vincente　the　bastions　ran　south　and　west　till　they　met　the　flooded　Rivillas。　San　Jose；　Santiago；　San　Juan；　San　Roque；　Santa　Maria；　and　so　to　the　Trinidad。　The　saints；　the　mother　of　Christ；　and　the　Holy　Trinity；　each　with　more　than　a　score　of　guns；　to　protect　a　city。
　
　The　bastions　were　not　the　only　protection　to　the　great　curve　of　walls。　First　came　the　glacis；　the　earth　slope　that　deflected　the　round　shot　and　bounced　it　high　over　the　defences；　and　then　the　huge　ditch。　The　drop　from　the　glacis　to　the　ditch　bottom　was　nowhere　less　than　twenty　feet　and；　once　in　the　ditch；　the　real　problems　began。　The　bastions　would　flank　any　attack；　pouring　in　their　plunging　fire；　and　there　were　ravelins　in　the　great　dry　moat。　The　ravelins　were　like　great；　triangular；　fake　walls　that　split　an　attack　and；　in　darkness；　could　deceive　men　into　thinking　they　had　reached　the　real　wall。　Any　man　who　climbed　a　ravelin　would　be　swept　off　by　carefully　aimed　cannon。　From　the　ditch　the　walls　rose　fifty　feet　and　on　their　wide　parapets　they　mounted　guns　every　five　yards。
　
　Badajoz　was　no　mediaeval　fortress　hastily　converted　for　modern　warfare。　It　had　once　been　the　pride　of　Spain；　a　brilliantly　engineered；　massively　built　death　trap；　that　was　now　garrisoned　by　the　finest　French　troops　in　the　Peninsula。　Twice　the　British　had　failed　to　take　the　city　and　there　seemed　no　reason；　a　ye