novelraw Chapter 264: Company
Chapter 264: Company
The Standing Army no longer lacked armor these days, so non-combat personnel like clerks and Shamans were also issued a set of equipment:
A Short Sword, a Round Shield, a helmet, and standard black Brigandine armor.
In addition, he received the standard daily necessities issued to every soldier:
A leather knapsack, a tunic, two sets of undergarments, two pairs of thick hobnailed sandals, personal cutlery and a canteen, a needle and thread for mending clothes and sandals, soap, bandages, a whetstone, and a woolen cloak to block the rain and serve as a blanket for sleeping at night.
"That is everything. Sign here."
The regiment quartermaster handed over a form with a yawn, comforting the fresh-faced rookie. "Do not worry, clerks and Shamans do not need to fight in battle. During marches, you can store your equipment in the Company baggage wagons."
Upon returning to the Company headquarters, Company Commander Ingvaren tossed a roster to Fridleif. "My reading and writing are not the best, so some of the information is full of mistakes and omissions. Go find the brothers and register them all over again."
"Yes, sir!"
Startled by the reckless youth's booming voice, the commander sighed helplessly. "I hear you. Keep your voice down from now on. I am not deaf."
The combat personnel of an infantry Regiment consisted of six Spear Companies and three crossbow Companies. Fridleif's Second Company was made up of spearmen, mostly Vikings, along with a small number of Highlanders and northern Angles.During registration, he sat behind a long table, quill in hand, verifying every soldier's information. Most of the men did not have surnames. To distinguish between identical names, he had to add their nicknames or hometowns as prefixes.
Once the task was complete, a few veterans badgered Fridleif, asking him to help write letters home. This was part of a clerk's duties, so Fridleif did not refuse.
"Hey, little guy, your handwriting is truly beautiful. It looks so much better than the commander's chicken scratch."
"Right? Last time I asked the commander to help read a letter, he did not recognize half the words and just started making wild guesses. He nearly scared me half to death."
Last June, Britain began large-scale construction of post offices and Post Stations. Post offices, temples, and Hospitals had practically become the landmark buildings of every Town in the directly administered territories. Post offices were also being built in the Nobles' territories, just in much smaller numbers.
As a military benefit, soldiers of the Standing Army could send one letter home each month, which the postal system would deliver to its destination.
When ordinary Commoners sent letters, they had to go to the local Town post office. After paying the postage, the staff would stamp a postmark on the envelope's surface. Wigg had initially planned to use postage stamps, but after considering various factors, he temporarily shelved the idea.
After a full day of busy work, Fridleif finally made it to dinner time. Since he belonged to the Company headquarters, his meals were relatively good, consisting of fried fish and grilled sausages.
After eating, he went to the well to draw a bucket of water, gave his body a simple wash, and then crawled into his tent to rest. As a clerk, he was exempt from the most grueling chores like standing guard, making his situation far better than that of the ordinary soldiers.
In the early hours of the next morning, a sound asleep Fridleif was jolted awake by a sharp whistle. He quickly straightened his uniform, then helped his companions dismantle the tent and store it in the Company's designated baggage wagon.
After finishing everything, he took out some Hardtack and munched on it haphazardly, complaining about why his parents had to choose such awful food for military rations. He occasionally took a sip of Clean Water to keep from choking on the dry biscuits.
Just as he swallowed the last bite of Hardtack, a bell rang from the central camp. There were fifteen minutes left before the official departure. Fridleif assisted the Company commander in counting the Supplies, and after confirming everything was correct, he slipped into the formation, silently waiting for the order to march.
"Soldiers, the expedition is about to begin. Our goal is to quell the rebellion in the Irish region, with Your Majesty serving as the commander..." Once the troops were assembled, the Company officers began their speeches. Ingvaren's speech was exceedingly average, drawing heavily from the templates he had memorized during his training classes at the Army Academy. It failed to spark much interest from the men.
Not long after, the Military Band struck up a brisk, melodious tune, and the infantry Regiment marched out of the camp in columns of four. The streets were lined with spectating Citizens. Adults whispered among themselves, discussing the potential impact of this upcoming war, while playful children occasionally dashed toward the formation, only for the Military Officers on the flanks to grab them by the collars and set them aside.
Approaching the north gate, the city walls were crowded with a large number of Royal Guard soldiers and Royal Court servants. The Royal Family and Cabinet members were seeing them off. Suddenly, Fridleif saw his younger brother Frede pointing at his formation and yelling at the top of his lungs. Fridleif glared at him, then silently marched out into the wilderness beyond Londinium.
There were no enemies on the journey from Londinium to Liverpool, and they could acquire provisions from settlements along the way. The atmosphere in the army was relatively relaxed, and Fridleif gradually grew accustomed to his new identity as a Company clerk.
Upon arriving in Liverpool, they found a massive fleet gathered there, tasked with transporting tens of thousands of soldiers and five thousand head of Livestock (Warhorses and Draft horses) to Dyfflin.
"Come with me to the Regiment headquarters for a meeting."
Ingvaren patted the clerk on the shoulder, and together they headed to the tent housing the Regiment headquarters. The interior was crowded with over forty figures, making the air exceptionally stuffy.
Once everyone had arrived, Regiment commander Bracken cleared his throat lightly. "We cross the sea in two days. From the moment we board until we reach the shore, we follow the navy's orders."
With that said, he handed the floor over to the naval officer standing beside him.
This man wore an odd-looking black tricorn hat and a black double-breasted coat adorned with brass buttons. His collar was embroidered with an oak leaf and two horizontal bars in golden Silk Thread. Underneath, he wore a white vest and matching white trousers, with a lightweight command sword hanging from his waist.
Ignoring the envious gazes of everyone in the tent, the naval officer pulled out a document and read it slowly, detailing the ships assigned to each Company. Fridleif's Second Company was allocated two Knarr ships: the "Adventurous Charles" and the "Swift Billy".
Committing the names and hull numbers of the two sailing ships to memory, Fridleif pulled out his notebook to quickly jot them down. He then listened intently to the rest of the briefing, terrified of missing a single instruction.
After the meeting dismissed, he followed Ingvaren back to the Company, overhearing the latter complaining under his breath.
"I knew I should have applied to transfer to the navy last year. The promotions are fast, the pay is good, and they even get those new dress uniforms personally designed by Your Majesty. Sigh, it is too late to say anything now."
In all fairness, the armor for the army's Military Officers was also meticulously designed. Their helmets featured brass spikes on top, tied with black or other colored tassels. The chest and abdomen of their Brigandine armor were embroidered with various patterns, and the outer sides of their arms had ringed vambraces. However, when the army officers witnessed how well the navy was treated, they could not help but feel a sense of disparity.
Annoyed by his superior's incessant grumbling, Fridleif absentmindedly let slip a piece of news. "To deal with maritime conflicts, the navy is preparing to form a marine Battalion. You still have a chance."
"How do you know that?"
Fridleif quickly made up an excuse. "I overheard the instructors chatting about it at the academy. It should be genuine news."
Ingvaren seemed slightly tempted, but then resumed his sighing. "I do not have any connections. Rashly applying for a transfer will only get me brushed off by my superiors. Forget it, I will just stay in the army and hope to scrape together a Knight title before I retire."