I will miss Captain Jonathan Leach, with whom I have spent fifteen or so minutes a night for over a month, perhaps longer, reading his memoirs of 21 years in the 95th. He comes across as a thoroughly decent man, ethical, thoughtful, modest, honorable. From a lieutenant sent to Antigua--one of a small percentage who did not die of fever--in the early 1800's (France and England and even Spain tussling over who would get what in the Caribbean) to Waterloo and beyond, duty in Scotland and Ireland (which he implies was a bore and not to his taste). Probably the most remarkable thing about Leach is that he did not die. He was in all the significant battles, and, once a Captain, generally leading a company and sometimes, when the commanding officers of the battalion of which he was part died, he would command. Not promoted beyond his abilities, a rare thing, and one wonders at that given his lasting power, however, what does come through is that Leach did not want responsibility, he wanted to be there on the ground in the thick of things. When not in battle he was also one of the few who was up and about early, found ways to enjoy himself--hunting, racing, dancing, playing various games--he simply, if that is possible, loved the life, both the thrilling and the boring parts, loathed slavery, loved scenic beauty, was interested in seeing the sights wherever he was, cared for his men. The very last line intrigues -- that all his closest friends died in Antigua. He was young then, and perhaps after that, he did not fear death so much and appreciated life to the fullest. The writing is very matter-of-fact and straight up, sometimes funny, sometimes sad, the work is balanced increasing one's faith in his accounts. Only for those truly interested in the period, and in particular the Peninsular Wars. ****