“"Come on in." The Commissary officer, a plump Lieutenant, grinned cheerfully and closed the door behind him. "Good after-noon, sir. Your signature?" "For what?" The Lieutenant pretended to be surprised. He looked at the piece of paper he had been holding out to Sharpe. "3rd Battalion of Detachments? Right?" Sharpe nodded. "Your rations, sir." He held the list out again. "Will you sign, sir?" "Wait." Sharpe looked down the list. "Seven hundred and fifty pounds of beef? That's generous, isn't... it?" The Lieutenant put on his professional smile. "I'm afraid that's not just for today, sir. That's the next three days' ration altogether." "What! Three days? That's half bloody rations!" The Lieutenant spread his hands. "I know, sir, I know, but it really is the best we can do. Will you sign?" Sharpe took his hat and weapons from the table. "Where are they?" The Lieutenant sighed. "I'm sure you don't want to. , "Where are they?" Sharpe's voice boomed in the small room.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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