Busaco

As I had previously visited this battlefield on 2 previous occasions, to participate in the bicentenary this event was a must for me.

To summarise briefly the French under the command of Massena were camped at the foot of a large hill range, whereas Wellingtons troops were at the top and made themselves invisible to the French by not even lighting camp fires.

Come the next day, the French attacked uphill with disastrous consequences and it was a victory for Wellington. The 95th played a big part in battering the French only for 1,200 troops of the 43rd and 52nd to arise from within the obscured landscape and fire a deadly volley into the French. It pretty much won the day.

Out of 880 79th Cameron Highlanders (Hills 1st Division) on the field only 55 casualties were taken. It was a battle honour for our regiment.

I met the other 14 British re-enactors who had made the long trip and after some coffee and administration had lunch which was an excellent Paella. All meals were provided and the standard of food freshly prepared and well cooked to a high standard.

The weather was very warm, around 25°C and the atmosphere was very pleasant. The plan for Saturday was a late afternoon skirmish. After making rounds from 7 kilos of powder provided we formed up and marched up the hill to Luso.

We came across a wedding party who insisted that us redcoats have our picture taken with them. We light heartedly called ourselves the 57th regiment, different varieties, different regiments.

We were comprised of the 3rd East Kent Buffs, the 9th Norfolk foot, the 44th Essex and the sole 'token' highlander was myself.

In addition to the allied troops were the 95th (1 British and 3 Portuguese), KGL, Caçedores (Portuguese rifle men trained by the British), Spanish militia and partisans armed with some quite frightening agricultural implements.

There were also artillery in which one has to turn a blind eye to the domestic established health and safety rules one is used to. The skirmish in the town was excellent and many rounds were fired and the expected allied victory. No nonsense here about the French winning and I can't ever see the Portuguese accepting that. The crowd was huge and I was really surprised at the large number of spectators.

As I intimated the canon gunfire was a little (too) close range for my liking but if you don't like explosions why would you join re-enacting warfare in the first place?

Afterwards a group of us made our way to the nearest bar for some much needed beer but this task was impossible due to the vast amount of people wanting their photographs taken with us, children, mothers, families.

In the end we got our beers and after another great evening meal followed by drinks. I walked back to my hotel and watched a part of a concert taking place, more people requesting photos taken with me and then a much needed bed.

Sunday 26th September started misty, like the original battle day and I set off for breakfast and collected cartridges for today's battle before forming up. I had so many ammunition in my cartridge box I felt like a suicide bomber, the only difference mine was destined for my musket and directed towards the French. I was at pains to make sure I was away from peoples cigarettes and that my cartridge box remained fastened and closed.

As today's battle was near the remembrance monument to the battle we had to get a coach and some of us had to wait for the second coach circuit so I took some photos of the partisans who were singing folk songs.

Once again it was a very sunny and warm day and there was a large crowd gathered for the battle. And what a battle it was, it just seemed to be continual, "make ready", "present", "fire", "reload". I was amazed how everyone's weapons kept reliably firing. I was using a 200 year old flint given to my by the 1st 3rd battalion foot guards that was sparking a treat despite spending so much time submerged in the Bristol channel.

After the battle, there were some prayers said and a minutes silence for the fallen and then we were given souvenir medals.

As we waiting, once more for the second coach I took the opportunity to revisit the museum and look at a picture dedicated to the museum from the Queens Own Highlanders. There was an English couple amazed that I was in the same uniform as the men in the picture and took my photo.

I returned to wait for the coach and we fired off any spare rounds we had left. Because I had so much gunk and powder deposits in my barrel my touch hole was seriously blocked. Each time I fired I experienced a continual 'flash in the pan'. No amount of pricking, even ramming a kilt pin in it did not seem to clear it. Of course a little audience was gathering who found it a great source of amusement each time the musket failed to fire. As I filled the frizzen I added a little down the main charge so it was a good 2 rounds when it eventually fired which it did. An immense loud crack emitted which ricocheted over the mountain range with a tremendous echo and the audience applauded. It was quite a funny moment.

We returned to lunch in the midday heat and I said farewell to people and had a few glasses of wine. As I walked through the town 2 Portuguese drinking men insisted on me joining them for a couple of glasses of 'vino tinto'. Why not? It was really nice wine too, full of spicy blackberry flavours.

I paid the hotel bill and took at taxi to Pampilhosa for the overnight train back to the French frontier. I was happy and full of the warm sunshine and happiness of an excellently organised event.

As it was the 3rd time I had been to the battlefield and as I had the Osprey book on Busaço is was good preparation and appreciation of one of a great battles of the Peninsular war and I felt privileged and fortunate to be able to attend.