Rifles - Mark Urban [58]
On these occasions the Rifle companies deployed in set-piece fashion. They would come up a road, marching three abreast. When the enemy were sighted they would either be told off in companies, each given their task by the major commanding Right Wing, or would form into column of companies, moving a little closer to their objective in this formation.
Coming closer to the enemy’s voltigeurs, normally a few hundred yards away, the company commander would give the order to extend, and the bugler relay it with a distinctive call. The files (a pair of men in each case) would then move apart – anything from two to six paces between each file, depending on the nature of the terrain and how numerous their foe. As soon as this advance came close enough to the enemy to fire with effect, the front man in each file would be ordered to stop, the rear man run past him about six paces, drop down, aim at his target and fire. The subaltern or sergeant commanding the section would then call out or blow a whistle and the first rank would get up and rush past those who had just fired, while they reloaded. Within each company, the two halves or platoons might also be stopping and starting in the same way, the whole moving forward with pounding feet, whistle blows and a steady, crackling fire of rifles. Advancing up to the French rearguard, most of the Light Division adopted skirmishing tactics too, for the red-coated battalions – the 43rd and 52nd – had learned to dissolve the rigid lines used by normal battalions when the terrain and tactical situation allowed it. Their men, and the Cacadores, were also using the protection of ground and aiming their shots.
It was tough, physical work, particularly if, as at Rehinha, the skirmish followed a march of many miles. Every man also needed to feel complete confidence in his mate – the rear rank man with the front one of each file – since a carelessly aimed shot might easily claim a friend. The same went for the subalterns commanding Left and Right platoons and for the company commanders, one with the other.
At Redinha, Lieutenant Harry Smith was commanding 2nd Company, Captain Leach being ill. His men deployed beside O’Hare’s as they worked up towards the French-held ridge line. Smith was eager to prove his worth in this post – few officers in the battalion radiated ambition more intensely. When he moved his company ahead of O’Hare’s and suffered a local counter-attack from the French, the old Irish captain did nothing to ease his distress. Smith recorded angrily, ‘I sent to my support, O’Hare, to move up to me. The obstinate old Turk would not, and so I was obliged to come back, and had most unnecessarily five or six men wounded.’ Perhaps O’Hare had been waiting for an order from his major. Perhaps he just didn’t like young subalterns in a hurry.
When, eventually, the two companies pushed through the little town and saw off the French, riflemen soon fell upon their wounded. Costello was disgusted to spy two buglers fighting one another for the right to rob a wounded French officer. One tried to settle the matter by pulling a knife and tearing at the stricken man’s shirt so as to find his money belt, but he stabbed the officer in the process. ‘It was with difficulty that I restrained myself from shooting the owner of the knife,’ wrote Costello, ‘but then he told me it was an accident.’
Flushed with battle, three months in arrears of pay, and with little hope of seeing their own supply train as they advanced so rapidly, the riflemen wanted to pillage food and drink as well as coin. They were not inclined to be too generous