Pinned
these days you just can't enlist in service of his majesty the king with nothing to your name and still get a fine red coat with bastions and buff facings and a musket you barely know how to use that requires you to look to the bright-eyed young private you met on your first day who shows you how to pick a good flint and brush out the pan and wheel elbow-to-elbow with you on the field and who offers you his pipe the evening before you march out to battle if only you'd sing him a song and that night when the other four men in your tent are asleep he tugs on your sleeve and asks you to hold him because deep down he knows tomorrow when you're three ranks deep and he's pressed up against you to aim his musket over your shoulder it will be the last time he will ever get to touch you