Blue Lights: Hot Work in the Soudan

by R. M. Ballantyne

The confusion was now increased by the enemy driving the baggage-animals hither and thither, especially on to another half-battalion square of the Berkshire Regiment. Here, however, they were effectually checked. As the Atlantic billows burst in impotent turmoil on the cliffs of Cornwall, so the enemy fell upon and were hurled back by the steadfast Berkshire Regiment, which scarcely lost a man, while over two hundred of their opponents lay dead around them.

The Bombay Regiment also stood fast, and redeemed, to some extent, the credit of their country; while the Sikhs, as might have been expected of them, never flinched for a moment, but strewed the plain around them with dead and dying men.

There was horrible carnage for some time—unflinching valour being opposed to desperate courage; and while a burning sense of injury, with a resolve to conquer or die, was the motive power, no doubt, on one side, on the other there was the high sense of duty to Queen and country, and the pride of historical renown.

Owing to the suddenness of the attack, and the occupation of the troops at the moment, there was some mixing up of men of different regiments. One company of Sikhs, who were helping to unload the camels when the fight began, having been prevented from joining their own regiment, cast in their lot with the marines. The better to help their European comrades these vigorous fellows leaped outside the zereba and lay down in front of it, and the two bodies together gave the charging foe such a warm reception that they never got within twenty yards of them.

But there was a fearful scene of butchery among the baggage-animals, and many unequal hand-to-hand conflicts. There was terrible slaughter also among the working parties that had gone out to cut bushes with which to finish the zerebas, with coats off and away from their arms. Some individuals of the marines, who, as a body, suffered severely, were surrounded by a dozen Arabs, and their bodies were afterwards found covered with spear-wounds. This was the case with a sergeant named Mitchel, who had charge of a wood-cutting party and had been quietly chatting with our friend Stevenson just before the attack. Another case was that of Private Stanton, who had been through the Egyptian campaign of 1882, had fought at Kassassin, Tel-el-Kebir, El-Teb, and Tamai. When this expedition of which we write was arranged, he was one of the first to volunteer. He chanced to be outside the zereba when the attack was made, and failed to appear at muster. Next day he was found dead, with many spear-wounds, at some distance from the force. Poor fellow! he had not been killed outright, and had attempted to crawl towards the zerebas, but in his confusion had crept away in the wrong direction, and had slowly bled to death on the sands of the desert.

During the rapid progress of this terrible scene of bloodshed, Miles and his friend Armstrong stood and fought shoulder to shoulder in the front rank at their allotted corner of the square—chiefly with bullet, but also, on several occasions, with bayonet, when the rush of the enemy threatened to break through all barriers, and drive in the line of defenders. They would certainly have succeeded, had these defenders been less powerful and resolute.

“Well done!” exclaimed a deep bass voice, in evident enthusiasm, close to Miles.

The latter glanced round. It was the voice of his friend Jack Molloy, who helped to work the Gardner gun, and who was at the moment admiring the daring act of an officer of Sikhs.

Two men of the Berkshire Regiment, who had been employed outside the zereba, were pursued by several Arabs, and it was evident that their death was almost certain, when the Sikh officer referred to rushed out to the rescue, sprang between the men and their pursuers, killed three of the latter in succession with three rapid sword-cuts, and enabled the soldiers to escape, besides which, he checked the rush at that part of the square, and returned to his post in safety.

The cheer of the Berkshire men and others who witnessed this feat was heard to rise above even the yells of combatants, the shrieks of the wounded, the rattle and crash of fire-arms, and the general turmoil and din of war.