"It has to be done," I said finally, "and your way seems the best. We'll do it."
I don't mind confessing that I had never run a "real" show previously. Plenty of times I had worked out schemes, and carried them through successfully, at manoeuvres and things like that; but it was very different now, and I devoutly wished that the Captain hadn't put all the responsibility on my shoulders, and, without really meaning to do so, I more or less shifted it on to Whitmore's.
Whitmore wanted to land at nine o'clock, an hour before high water, so that we should have firmer ground under us, be able to get closer in to the battery, and have less trouble with the boats. I, however, thought the early morning the best time, somewhere about three o'clock, for my experience in manoeuvres and sham attacks had taught me that the attacked side was generally at its worst, and that men, all the world over, were more likely to be surprised and "shaken", at that hour. It had the disadvantage of being at low water, but we should have those fishing stakes to guide us. Hoffman had told us the mud was fairly firm there, and, perhaps what appealed to me most, daylight would not be far off.
Whitmore eventually gave way, and we decided that we would leave the ship at about 1.30 a.m., be towed as far as possible, and pull in with muffled oars.
Then it was a question of what men I should take, and I decided to take Marshall[#] and his forty marines. Speaking generally, they were an older lot of men than a seaman company, and the older the men were, the less liable they would be to lose their heads.
[#] Captain S. A. Marshall, R.M.L.I., was in command of the detachment of Royal Marines.
It was decided that I should rush the battery, and that Whitmore should take twenty picked men and three torpedo hands with the gun-cotton charges and try and make for the gun.
"How about midshipmen?" he asked.
I personally didn't want to take any; the job was too risky a one. However, we finally decided to take one each, and thought we had better choose Rawlings and Ford, as they had had some experience lately.
"Heads, Ford; tails, Rawlings," Whitmore said, tossing a dollar; and Ford fell to me. There was nothing to choose between the two boys.