By a curious coincidence it was in the same quarter of Africa that, twenty-six years later, the third coloured man to be decorated won his V.C. This was Corporal William James Gordon, also of the West Indian Regiment. His act of special gallantry was to save his officer (Major Madden) from certain death at the storming of the town of Toniataba, on the Gambia. Gordon thrust himself between the major and the enemy’s rifle barrels as they were suddenly poked out of the loopholes at the officer’s back, receiving a bullet through his lungs that went within an ace of killing him.
The other notable Crosses of the sixties were awarded for deeds of bravery that necessitated the issue of an additional Royal Warrant to cover deeds performed not in action but “under circumstances of extreme danger, such as the occurrence of a fire on board ship, or of the foundering of a vessel at sea, or under any other circumstances in which, through the courage and devotion displayed, life or public property may be saved.” By this special provision a brave Irishman, Timothy O’Hea by name, a private in the Rifle Brigade, was awarded the V.C., together with Dr. Campbell Douglas, and four privates of the South Wales Borderers, then styled the 24th Regiment.
O’Hea’s exploit was performed at a railway siding between Quebec and Montreal in June 1866, while he was acting as one of an escort in charge of an ammunition van. To everybody’s alarm a fire broke out, enveloping the car in flames and smoke. Inside were kegs of powder and cases of ammunition, which, did they ignite, would cause a most terrible explosion.
While the others hesitated O’Hea snatched the keys from the sergeant’s hand, opened the door of the van and called for volunteers to bring him water and a ladder. The latter was quickly procured, and standing on this the plucky private emptied bucketful after bucketful upon the burning wood. It was a touch-and-go business, as the tongues of flame shot out every now and then, coming dangerously near to the powder kegs, but O’Hea stuck to his post and he fought the fire under.
Though the Rifle Brigade has fourteen Crosses to its credit, won in the Crimea, in India, and in South Africa, I rather fancy that not one of them was gained in circumstances of more deadly peril, and his comrades were well pleased when Private Timothy O’Hea’s name went to swell the proud list of V.C. heroes. O’Hea, it may be added, met with a sad fate in after years. He was lost in the Australian bush, and never heard of again.
Dr. Douglas and the four men of the 24th Regiment referred to—Privates Murphy, Cooper, Bell, and Griffiths—earned their distinction at the Andaman Islands, in the Bay of Bengal, in May of 1869.
A small expedition had been sent thither to ascertain the fate of the captain and crew of the Assam Valley, who, it had been reported, had fallen victims to the natives. The graves of the unfortunate men were found on the Little Andaman, but when the search party returned to the shore they found themselves cut off from their ship by a tremendous high-running surf.
Their predicament having been observed, Dr. Douglas with the four privates named manned a gig and pulled in to their rescue. The first attempt to get through the breakers half swamped the boat, but a second attempt enabled them to save five men. On the third and last trip the remaining twelve members of the party were safely got off.
To read the bare official account of the affair is to gain but a poor impression of the bravery displayed by Dr. Douglas and his helpers. For a proper understanding of the daring nature of the deed one must have seen the immense surf rollers thundering on to the beach, and have appreciated the very slender chances of living through the boiling waters that a man would have if capsized from a boat. It was no ordinary rescue, and all five nobly earned their Crosses.