Somewhere in Flanders, October 1794
The sound was getting worse! Dick Sharpe leaned on his musket and looked across the field wondering what was happening out there. Even without any knowledge of animals, Dick knew the cow was in some sort of difficulty. It had been laying in the field making that hideous noise when the Regiment had stopped their days marching and set up camp. Some time ago, two women had come from the small farmhouse some distance away and were now with the cow, but the bellowing went on.
It'll keep us awake all bloody night, Dick Sharpe thought to himself. He was on the first piquet of the evening. It was a duty eagerly sought by most of the infantrymen as it meant they could enjoy a full nights sleep. Dick had wondered at first why he was always lucky enough to draw the early piquet, but had soon come to realise that it was Sergeant Hawthorne's doing. As to whether it was for the benefit of Captain Hughes or Frank Hawkins, he could only guess. Maybe it was for a little of both. Sergeant Hawthorne liked to be on the side of anyone in authority, whether they be Officers or bullies.
At least Hawthorne was better than Sergeant Hakeswill. Dick shuddered when he thought of that man. He'd heard that Hakeswill had been assigned to the second company now that his recruiting duties were over. So far Dick had been lucky enough to avoid him. The Light Company along with the Grenadier Company enjoyed an elevated status above the other battalion Companies. They considered themselves elite and usually kept to themselves. This suited Dick Sharpe perfectly.
"There's something wrong with that cow." The quiet voice startled Dick, as he hadn't heard anyone approach. I must be tired, he thought wearily. The days of endless marching were hard, but the nights were harder still. He dragged himself from day to day, existing on too little food and too much alcohol hoping that somehow things would improve but they never did.
"She's calving, I'd say." Dick wondered whether he should reply. He wasn't in the habit of speaking to the other infantrymen. Most of them sneered at him or avoided him. The rest were happy to pay Hawkins for his services but still sneered at him afterwards and called him a whore. There was no one that he would call friend, except for Josh Smith. But Smith had found himself a new group of friends, good men who looked after him and Dick had severed their friendship rather than jeopardize Smith's good fortune.
"They'll have to give her a hand or they'll loose her." Dick could hear a faint tinge of worry in the voice and he looked up into the brown eyes of the man who stood near him. He wasn't tall, but neither was he short. In fact he was rather unremarkable, the sort of man that was often overlooked. For a moment Dick wondered if he was from the Light Company at all, but some vague recollection made him think that he had encountered this man before somewhere before. He certainly wasn't one of Hawkins friends. No, he was probably one of the quiet men, that you never noticed, the ones who kept to themselves and stayed out of trouble. Perhaps he was part of the group that Joshy had joined.
"Do you know much about cows?" Dick asked. There was something about the man that made him forget his usual wariness. The infantryman turned back to look at Dick and nodded, a small smile appeared on his lips.
"What's happening here Tom Garrard?" Sergeant Walker's gruff voice called out as he strode up to the two men. Dick picked up his musket and stood to attention. He had forgotten for a moment he was on piquet duty.
"Cow's in trouble Sarge, I can tell by the sound of her." As if on cue the pitiful bellowing came again. "They might need a hand Sarge, I could help if they don't know what to do."
Walker laughed, "I'm bloody sure you'd like to give those women a hand Tom! Most of us would jump at the chance!"
Dick hadn't had much to do with Sergeant Walker. He was the only married Sergeant in the Light Company and kept to himself. He seemed to give Sergeant Hawthorne a wide berth. The mention of the women made Dick look back across the field. They looked to be young, but then after so long without women, most of the infantrymen wouldn't really care.
"I'd just help the cow Sarge, honest." Walker laughed again but his face turned serious and he scratched his head. "It does sound poorly, doesn't it."
There was the clomping of hooves behind them and Captain Hughes walked his bay gelding up to the small group. He gave Dick a quick smile before addressing Sergeant Walker.
"Are you wondering about that cow too Sergeant? It's going to be hard to listen to it all night."
"It's calving Sir," Garrard interrupted "There's something wrong. I was just asking Sergeant Walker if I could go and help."
Despite his quiet manner, Tom Garrard wasn't afraid to jump in and speak his mind! Dick hid his smile as he looked from the disgusted face of Walker to Captain Hughes.
"You know something about cows Garrard?" Hughes asked thoughtfully. Walker rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Yes, Sir, I was raised on a farm. I know all about them."
"This would be a wonderful opportunity to show the locals that we are not here to cause them trouble. Unfortunately some of the other Regiments have given we British a bad name with their looting. We are traveling through a foreign country and the last thing we need is to have the locals against us." Hughes paused and looked out to where the two women were standing by the cow. It was late afternoon, the light already fading.
"Yes, go and offer your assistance Private Garrard."
"But Sir," Walker interrupted, "They're two women Sir, alone! Shouldn't someone go with him." Walker's face held an expectant look, and Dick could see he was waiting for Hughes to send him as well.
But Hughes simply smiled. "They don't look dangerous to me Sergeant, but I see your point. Private Sharpe is on piquet duty so he will accompany Private Garrard and stand guard in case the women try anything. Go and pass on my orders to Sergeant Hawthorne."
With a resigned look Walker replied "Yes Sir" and marched off.
"Off you go then and good luck." Hughes rode away and Sharpe and Garrard walked briskly across the field as the shadows lengthened.
As they approached the women, Garrard held his arms opened wide, palms facing outwards so they could see he was unarmed.
"Stay back a little so that you don't frighten them," he said softly to Dick, who obeyed without question.
Garrard gestured at the cow that lay on its side, the point of one tiny hoof just visible beneath it's tail. Dick blinked and looked away glad Garrard had told him to stay back.
One of the women commenced speaking in a babbling language pointing at the cow and the hoof of the calf and gesturing with her hands. Tom Garrard nodded as if he understood the strange language or at least the gestures and commenced unbuttoning his jacket.
"Here, what are yer doing?" Dick asked suddenly. Maybe Walker had been right.
"I don't want to get blood on my jacket and shirt." He was taking his shirt off now, revealing a strong pair of shoulders and a body that was used to hard work. "I've got to turn the calf a bit, it's messy work."
Dick was about to reply but shut his mouth when Garrard squatted beside the cow and began feeling it's swollen body with his hands. He put his head against the stomach and listened then moved to the rear of the cow where the small hoof was protruding.
Dick thought he would be sick as he watched Tom Garrard slide first his hand then most of his arm inside the cow. He could see the strain and concentration on the other mans face as he struggled with whatever he was doing. The two women were watching intently as they held the cow. One was softly singing, which puzzled Dick even more. This seemed like a terrible lot of bother to go to just to get a woman, Dick thought to himself. Maybe Garrard hoped to get the two of them?
"Come over here and give me a hand, Dick." Garrard ordered and Dick reluctantly put his musket down. As he squatted nervously, he wondered where Garrard had learnt his name, but then realised that probably everyone on the Regiment had heard of Dick Sharpe by now.
"Here, hold it's tail still and lean against that leg there, yes like that." Garrard slid his other hand in side the cow and Dick's stomach turned. Surprisingly his initial reaction gave way to interest as Dick watched Garrard wrestle with calf, his straining arm muscles showing how difficult the task was. Finally Tom withdrew his hands bringing forth another tiny hoof.
Tom rested his hand on the cow's stomach again and nodded to the women. He paused as if waiting for something, then suddenly grabbed the two tiny hooves and pulled. A slippery glistening shape slithered out of the cow with a squelching sound.
"Ohh," Sharpe gasped in surprise, unaware he had been holding his breath. But the calf lay unmoving. Perhaps all Garrard's efforts had been in vain. "Is it dead?" Dick asked quietly. "Not yet," Tom replied and hurriedly wiped the mucous from around its nose and mouth before placing his own mouth over its nose and blowing hard. Nothing happened! He gathered the calf to him and rubbed its wet little body, all the time whispering softly.
"It's dead!" Dick said again, thinking that perhaps this man had never seen death before and didn't know the signs. "No." Tom Garrard replied evenly and kept up him ministrations, rubbing the calf then blowing into its nose. Suddenly the tiny creature jerked, it's little legs spasming and it's mouth opening to emit a feeble sound.
Tom Garrard looked up at Dick Sharpe, his face bursting into a huge smile, showing two distinctive dimples in his cheeks. "You see!" he said triumphantly. "There's always hope!"
Dick Sharpe couldn't help smiling back as he watched Tom Garrard hand the calf to one of the women. But there was one further surprise. The cow bellowed again and Tom returned to the tail end just in time to catch another slippery bundle as it was born. The second calf was very much alive. There was much excited chatter from the women as they cleaned both calves. Yes, Tom Garrard was going to be one lucky man tonight, Dick decided as he watched the women talking and looking at the older infantryman who was helping the cow regain her feet.
The sun had almost gone and with it the last warmth of the day. He must be cold now, Dick though as he watched Tom Garrard shiver slightly and place his red jacket around his shoulders. His arms and chest were well covered in blood and slime from the cow and he gestured to the women that he wanted to wash. One of them nodded and pointed to the nearby farmhouse. Garrard caught Dick's grin and frowned. "I just want to get clean, you'd better come too, keep an eye on me." This made Dick smile even more as he contemplated the women's appreciation.
With one eye on Garrard and the woman in front and the other on the woman that was leading the cow and the two tiny calves towards Dick Sharpe followed along. He marveled at the two calves, newly arrived and yet already making their own way in life. They'd had very different starts too; one so feeble that he would have left it for dead. Yet here it was ambling along with it's sibling and it was all thanks to Tom Garrard. He'd refused to give up and let the calf die. Dick shook his head. It was nothing short of a miracle!
They stopped at the back of the farmhouse in front of a water trough and Tom handed Dick his shirt and jacket to hold while he splashed the water onto himself. The water must have been freezing and Dick grimaced as he watched Tom rinse himself clean, the cold water raising goose bumps on his pale flesh. But before he could dress again, one of the women came and took his arm. She murmured something in her foreign language and although her words were meaningless the message was clear when she ran her hands down his chest.
The older man blushed slightly and dropped his eyes, shaking his head. But the woman was insistent and she reached for his hand to lead him into the house. As if in appeal, Tom looked up at Dick Sharpe.
"Go on, I'll cover for you. I'll not tell." Dick said trying not to sound envious. He was unprepared for Tom's reply.
"NO, I don't want to do that. This isn't right. I was just helping them, that's all. I just wanted to help the cow." The woman let go of his arm and looked Garrard up and down clearly annoyed by his refusal. She muttered something and then turned to look at Dick.
Dick Sharpe liked women and it had been a long time since he had been with one. Occasionally Jack O'Malley would hire a whore and they would share her for the evening. Dick had wondered if half of O'Malley's pleasure had been in the watching. He was certainly very vocal when it came to offering suggestions on how to do it. Sometimes Dick would spend some of his own hard-earned money on whores himself and once one had even let him do it for free. But they were all whores.
This woman, looking at him with lust in her eyes, probably wasn't and that thought alone made Dick Sharpe go hot all over. She walked closer, said something quietly and nodded her head towards the farmhouse door.
Dick Sharpe stood there in a dilemma. He thought of what was waiting him back in the camp when his piquet duty finished. He thought of how wondrous it would be to spend a few minutes in the arms of this woman and finally he thought about the disappointed look that seemed to be on Tom Garrard's face as he pulled on his clothes. The older man looked up, their eyes met, and Tom Garrard repeated the words that Sharpe had said before. "Go on, I'll cover for you."
Afterwards Dick couldn't really say what prompted his reply. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time since joining the Light Company someone had treated him like a soldier and not a whore and he didn't want to loose Tom Garrard's good opinion. Maybe it was the fact that he was intrigued by Tom Garrard's own refusal of the woman's offer and wanted to know what had prompted it. Or maybe it was simply the wonder of the evening, the miracle of birth and the struggle for life that made him think of higher things.
"No, I'm on duty. It wouldn't be right." Dick said quietly as he shook his head at the woman. The woman threw her arms in the air and muttered something which left both the infantrymen trying hard to hide their laughter as they took their leave.
It was fully dark as they made their way back across the field to the warm glow of the campfires in the distance. Tom Garrard was still shivering slightly. "We'll get a frost tonight I reckon," he said looking up at the brilliant sky above them and wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to get warm. "You could have stayed a while if you wanted to Dick. I meant what I said." Dick knew by the tone of Garrard's voice that the older man was curious. "Do yer like women Dick?"
"Course I do!" Dick blurted out a little too quickly, suddenly afraid of what Tom Garrard thought about him. "But you were right, " he continued a little more subdued. "It wouldn't have been right somehow." Tom Garrard gave him a friendly smile and nodded as if he understood. They walked a little further in silence and Dick thought again about the miracle he had witnessed earlier.
"How did you know that the calf was alive, Tom?" he asked shyly.
"I didn't," Tom said matter-of-factly, "But you have to try, sometimes. You have to give it a go in spite of what it looks like."
The piquet had been changed in their absence and supper had been cooked and eaten. Most of the Regiment was bedding down as the night turned colder.
"Do you want a cup of tea?" Tom asked surprising Dick again. He contemplated accepting the offer and thought about sitting by the campfire talking and drinking tea. But perhaps Garrard had something else in mind. Maybe that was why he'd turned down the woman's offer.
"Umm, no, I'd better not." Dick said hesitantly. Anyway, Captain Hughes would be waiting for him and for once, Dick realised he would have a story to tell Hughes; the story of how he helped deliver two calves.
"Well thank you for your help Dick," Garrard didn't seem put out by his refusal in fact he held out his hand and Dick realised he'd been wrong about Tom's intentions. He shook hands suddenly feeling a deep remorse.
"Look after yourself." Tom Garrard added with a smile. There was an a slight inflection in those last words, and a look in Tom's brown eyes, that made Dick Sharpe feel warm. He smiled back at the older man.
"I'll try Tom," Dick said with a promise.
The End
Minerva September 1999.