Wearing British clothes as a second-generation aristocrat

2nd Battalion

Stepping out of the dock area, you arrive at a vast open field, where the first thing that catches your eye is the city of Mengorol, which, while not particularly tall, is still quite impressive.

After passing through that city gate, which is very characteristic of India, you enter the city of Mengoror.

Dugan immediately felt a strange, exotic atmosphere that was completely different from that of England. The humid sea breeze, carrying a strong exotic scent, enveloped him instantly.

The narrow streets are paved with bluestone slabs, worn smooth and shiny by the years and dust. Low adobe houses and carved wooden shops stand side by side. The walls of the adobe houses are painted with bright colors such as bright yellow, indigo, and vermilion, and are decorated with simple images of Hindu deities. Some have cinnabar on their foreheads, while others hold ritual implements, exuding an ancient and mysterious atmosphere.

High-caste Indian women, with fair skin and clad in brightly colored saris, their skirts sweeping the ground, the embroidered fabric shimmering in the sunlight. Thin veils draped over their shoulders, and white jasmine or crimson hibiscus blossoms tucked into their hair, their fragrance drifting on the breeze.

They were often followed by several dark-skinned, low-caste servants dressed in coarse cloth.

A vendor wearing a headscarf squats by the roadside, with a bamboo tray in front of him holding brightly colored betel nuts, fried snacks wrapped in banana leaves, and various colored spices and curries in earthenware jars. His calls to the vendors have a unique tone.

Although Dugan couldn't understand it, he found it very interesting.

The air was filled with the spiciness of curry, the richness of sandalwood, the intensity of spices, and the scent of dust.

Unfortunately, the air was also filled with the stench of cow, human, and some other animal excrement.

"Ah, this is a flavor unique to India," Dugan said with a wry smile.

Indian soldiers dressed in British military uniforms can be seen on the streets from time to time, and ordinary people avoid them like the plague.

The group had barely entered the city when a soldier in a messenger uniform hurried up to them, looking anxious. He held an urgent letter bearing the seal of the British Army Headquarters and went straight to Wellesley, bowing respectfully: "Major General Wellesley, urgent secret order from headquarters, please open it personally."

Wellesley took the letter, opened the envelope, quickly glanced through it, then put the letter away. He turned to Colonel Stevenson and Dugan and announced in a calm tone, "Headquarters has issued a new appointment, ordering me to immediately proceed to Bangalore, the capital of Mysore, to assume the post of Governor of Mysore and oversee the entire Mysore theater of operations."

Colonel Stevenson smiled sincerely upon hearing this and said, "Congratulations, Major General."

Dugan was also pleased; he was now considered Wellesley's man, and Wellesley, as Governor of Mysore, held military and political power over the entire war zone. The higher Wellesley's rank, the more advantageous it would be for him.

Wellesley patted Stevenson on the shoulder and instructed him, "Stevenson, Mengorol is an important port fortress and a key passage for our supplies and reinforcements. Make sure to defend it well. Keep an eye on the deployment of the 94th Infantry Regiment. If there is any major situation, send someone to Bangalore immediately."

Then he looked at Dugan, his tone gentle yet expectant, "Dugan, you still belong to the 94th Infantry Regiment and are under Colonel Stevenson's command. I'll be waiting for your good news in Bangalore."

"Yes, General." Dugen immediately stood at attention and saluted, his tone firm.

After giving a few brief instructions, Wellesley boarded the carriage bound for Bangalore, its wheels rolling as it gradually disappeared into the distance.

Dugan glanced instinctively at the shops along the street, where vendors were weighing spices on small brass scales, and the aroma of sandalwood and curry in the air grew stronger.

Several children were playing around a sugar figurine vendor. The vendor's sugar spoon flew as he quickly created a lifelike sugar figurine of an Indian deity, which made the children cheer with joy.

"Major Connby, we should go back and deploy our mission." Colonel Stevenson's voice pulled Dugan back to reality. He turned around and looked at Dugan with a solemn expression. "Now, I'm assigning you your first mission."

Dugan immediately straightened up and listened attentively: "Yes, sir."

"The 2nd Battalion of the 94th Infantry Regiment will arrive at the port of Mengorol in the next two days aboard subsequent transport ships."

Colonel Stevenson slowly said, "Your mission is to return to the dock, wait for all the officers and soldiers of the Second Battalion to land, take roll call one by one according to the roster, and after confirming that no personnel are missing and no supplies are lost, lead the Second Battalion to the Schollingur camp to rendezvous with the main force of the regiment headquarters."

Dugan thought for a moment and said, "Sir, I need a helper, preferably a veteran from the 94th Infantry Regiment. I have just arrived in India and am unfamiliar with the place. I know nothing about the layout of the docks or the local situation. If I rashly lead the 2nd Battalion to the camp alone, there may be unexpected events that will affect the progress of the mission."

Colonel Stevenson nodded upon hearing this. After a moment of silence, he said, "You're right. I can't let you carry out this mission alone. How about this, I'll send my orderly, Tom, to assist you. He served with me in India for three years and can communicate with the local people."

"Thank you, sir," Dugan snapped to attention and saluted again. Colonel Stevenson raised his hand and called out to a young soldier a short distance away, "Tom!"

A short, young soldier immediately ran over and saluted Colonel Stevenson: "Colonel?"

Tom looked to be around thirty years old. His eyes didn't have the cunning of a seasoned veteran; instead, they had the honesty of a simple country boy.

According to Colonel Stevenson, Tom had followed him for many years and was not only loyal but also familiar with Indian customs and basic military procedures. He was one of Stevenson's most trusted men.

Tom served in India for many years and was very familiar with local customs. He could even speak fluent Hindi and had acquired a local air about him, occasionally wearing a small Hindu amulet on his waist.

"Tom, I order you to assist Major Connby in his mission," Colonel Stevenson said.

"Yes, sir! Mission accomplished!" Tom shouted back. His voice was loud and had a distinct Scottish accent, which was understandable, as the 94th Infantry Regiment was mostly composed of soldiers from Scotland.

Then, Tom saluted Dugan again.

"Major Connby, I am orderly Tom, and I am ready to serve you at any time."

With everything arranged, Colonel Stevenson mounted his horse and rode away.

The two bid farewell to Colonel Stevenson and turned to walk towards the dock.

Tom led the way with a steady gait, occasionally introducing the surroundings to Dugan: "Major, this is Mengor's main street. To the left is the gathering place for local vendors, with stalls selling spices, saris, and copperware, as well as local specialties like fried samosas covered in mung bean paste and sweet porridge made with coconut milk; to the right is the British army's temporary supply depot, with sentries along the way. If questioned, just show your officer's ID. The docks are about a quarter of an hour's walk from here..."

Dugan followed behind, listening to Tom's introduction, and felt that this kid was an expert on India.

Dugan also noticed some slogans written in the local language on the walls along the roadside, in addition to images of deities. Tom explained in a low voice that most of them were notices from local lords, reminding people to maintain order and stay away from the British garrison.

Fifteen minutes later, the two returned safely to the port of Mengorol. The dock was still busy, with transport ships arriving one after another, and soldiers disembarking in an orderly manner to unload supplies.

On the open ground by the dock, local porters, shirtless and with skin tanned dark and shiny, carried heavy wooden crates and moved steadily between the ships and warehouses, humming in unison. The sounds of their chants mingled with the waves and the ship horns, creating a lively atmosphere.

Following Stevenson's instructions, Dugan and his companion found out the exact arrival time of the Second Battalion's transport ship at the dock's dispatch room.

"How many men are in this Second Battalion?" Dugan asked, flipping through the thick roster of soldiers.

Tom said, "This second battalion was supposedly a temporary addition; the roster lists 700 men."

Dugan frowned, wondering how long it would take to call 700 people by name.

So, Dugan had a sudden inspiration and turned the roster to the officers' page.

After glancing around, Dugan asked Tom, "Are there any blacksmiths at the docks?"

Tom replied, "Yes."

Dugan said, "Take me to the blacksmith; I need something made."