Private Thomas Edwards, the second hero of the fight, was a “Black Watch” Highlander who was on transport service with the Naval men, having in his charge two mules loaded with ammunition. His gun of the battery was under the command of Lieutenant Almack, R.N., “one of the bravest officers on the field that morning,” to use Edwards’ own words.
In a sudden rush of the enemy the gun—a Gatling—was surrounded, and of the three standing by it one, a sailor, was instantly speared. Two of the “Fuzzy-Wuzzies” then made for Edwards, who put his bayonet through both of them. The lieutenant, however, was less lucky. Attacked by several Soudanees, he succeeded in disposing of one with his sword, but before he had time to recover another nearly sliced his right arm off with a slashing cut.
In a twinkling Edwards shot the Soudanee dead. There then ran up, he says in his own account of the incident, three more Soudanees, who threw themselves upon the helpless officer as he leant against the gun-carriage and ran their spears through his body. Seeing that Almack was killed and that he could do nothing more, the brave Highlander, who, by the way, received a wound on the back of his right hand, took his two mules and retired, keeping up a fire upon the enemy as he fell back.
Yet another V.C. hero of the Soudan was Gunner Albert Smith, of the Royal Artillery, the scene of his gallantry being Abu Klea.
The story of this fierce battle makes exciting reading. Late in December of 1884, Sir Herbert Stewart with a “flying column” of 1500 men was marching across the Bayuda Desert to Metemmeh, on his way to relieve Khartoum and Gordon. He had under him a picked fighting force, including some of the Guards, and they started out from Korti with high hopes of a speedy march to their goal. They little dreamt of what lay before them.
The water-bottles of the men were soon emptied, and when it was necessary to refill them it was found that the wily Mahdi had dried up the wells along the line of route. Only after a toilsome journey of eighty miles was water reached, though even then it was hardly worth the name. Such as it was, however, it was priceless to the Tommies, who were half mad with thirst, and every available receptacle was filled with water.
Another march of a hundred and twenty miles brought the column in sight of the wells at Abu Klea, and in sight, too, of a strong force of the enemy. All through the weary night the men waited impatiently by their arms until morning came to give them a chance of getting at the wells. Then, in the form of a hollow square, the column advanced, “like some huge machine, slow, regular, and compact, despite the hail of bullets pouring in from front, right, and left, and ultimately from the rear.”
Altogether there were over ten thousand Arabs opposed to the little force, hemming them in all round. There was no avenue of retreat; the column had to go forward and cut its way through.
Then it was that for the first time in history a British square was broken. With the utmost fury the Soudanees swept down upon a corner of the phalanx and by sheer weight of numbers forced a way inside. It was indeed a critical moment. Colonel Fred Burnaby, of the Royal Horse Guards, was among the first to be killed, though not before he had slain several of his assailants; and as more spearsmen poured in, the slaughter was terrible. But in time the troops rallied. The square was re-formed, and not one of those daring black-skinned foemen who got inside escaped to boast of his valour.