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one. But – no, now I recall quite clearly – ’ a triumphant note entered the general’s voice – ‘you were in the line, one of those from the hospital, a sergeant at the time if my memory serves me well. The thin red line at Balaclava.’ He cackled a little with laughter. ‘William Russell made us famous, did he not, with his colourful phrase in
The Times
? “
The thin red streak tipped with a line of steel
.”’
    Jack was absolutely flabbergasted. Campbell could only have seen him briefly as he stood in that line. To remember his face from such a short acquaintance was truly astonishing. Yet there was a story of Campbell recognizing an NCO’s voice during a charge in the Punjab some years earlier, thus turning the battle. It was true then, this fabulous memory.
    ‘If you could see your face,’ said Campbell, grinning, then taking a sip of something from a cup. ‘Well, laddie, your name is
not
Kirk.’
    Jack stiffened. ‘No, sir, my army name is Crossman.’
    ‘And the reason you reject your family name?’
    ‘I – I joined the army as a private, not wanting my father to purchase a commission for me. It’s – it’s family business, sir.’
    ‘Uncomfortable, eh? Domestic strife.’ The general waved a hand. ‘Dinna fash yersel’ laddie, Campbell isn’t my name either.’
    Jack’s eyes opened wider. ‘It’s not?’
    ‘No, I was born a Macliver and I too have been promoted without purchase in my time, so you see we have two things in common. However, I don’t come from a lord’s family, so I don’t know what goes on with boys growing up inside castles and mansions.’
    ‘My father is not a lord, sir. He’s only a lowly baronet.’
    ‘My father, sir,’ said Campbell, ‘was a Glasgow carpenter.’
    Jack did not know what to say to this. Sir Colin had a very distinguished army career; he had been elevated to the peerage and was highly respected. What could one say in response to such a revelation? However, the general let him off the hook, by requesting him to come and look at a map spread across a table, and to divulge what he had learned. Jack was only too willing to do so and went into army business mode.
    At the end of the briefing Campbell looked into Jack’s eyes and said, ‘Well done, Lieutenant. A good job. At least I can go in with my eyes open. The figures I’ve had so far seem to have been heavily inflated. I think I trust yours more. The plain on the approaches to the town are covered with small streams, you say?’
    ‘Yes, sir, and one of them flows right across the south side of the town, but there are bridges intact.’
    ‘Good. Excellent.’ The general nodded hard. ‘Well, we’ll do what we can. I’d like to get my hands on Khan. That’d be a coup.’
    It would indeed, sir.’
    ‘Off you go then. I’ll pass on my high regard of your work to Colonel Hawke. See you on the battlefield.’
    A bolt of pleasure went through the lieutenant at these words.
    ‘Indeed, sir. I’ll be there.’
    Just before he turned to leave, Campbell nodded towards Jack’s missing hand.
    ‘Crimea? Or here?’
    ‘The Redan. Siege ladder, sir.’
    ‘Hmm, heavy things. You look as if you’ve been punctured a few times too. Bayonet or bullet?’
    Jack grinned. ‘Both, here and there.’
    ‘Me too,’ replied the general. ‘All right, off you go then.’
    Jack left the building. Thankfully Deighnton and his cronies had moved on and the landscape was happily clear of spurred and cockaded cavalry officers. Jack joined some infantry officers in the mess tent. There he had drink or two, before going back to see his own men. He briefed King, ruffled Sajan’s hair, commended Wynter on his first operation, and told Gwilliams to go and get himself a brandy or two.
    ‘You know where to find it, if anyone does. Not too much, mind. We’ll be fighting soon.’
    ‘You know me, Lieutenant. I always mix milk with mine.’
    Jack winced at the thought of this concoction.
    ‘Take Wynter with you.