time,’ Patrick replied. ‘Lost a couple of horses and Private Grady hit in the leg. Not serious. Wasn’t one of those damned explosive bullets of theirs. You can take Grady’s horse.’
‘Thanks, boss,’ Saul replied as he chambered a round to put his own horse out of her misery.
She no longer whinnied but lay on her side snorting in laboured breaths, blood oozing from five holes in her broad chest. Her big brown eyes rolled in pain as Saul levelled the rifle at her head and fired. She jerked at the impact and then relaxed. The pain was gone. Major Duffy turned sharply and cantered towards the knoll to rally the flanking party and take stock of what they may have found for intelligence purposes.
Saul limped across to Grady’s horse grazing quietly on the grass. The rider was sitting beside his mount holding his leg and pulling a face as he gritted his teeth but making no audible complaint. Saul knew Grady from Brisbane where he was renowned as a rugby player. He was also an easygoing soldier liked by his comrades.
‘I’ll get you down to the medical wagons, Harry,’ Saul said, bending over to give his comrade a sip from his water canteen. ‘The boss has given me your horse.’
Grady grinned up at him when he had swallowed the warm water. ‘Better a bullet than to die of the shits,’ he said, knowing that enteric fever and dysentery had taken a terrible toll on the expeditionary force since it had arrived.
‘Yer not going to die of that wound, Harry. Probably get sent home to boast about how yer got it in the charge against the Dutchmen.’
‘Trouble is I didn’t. I went down before I even heard the shots. Never got a chance to follow Major Duffy up the hill. I suppose if he hadn’t given the order so quick we might all be lyin’ out here dead,’ Grady reflected grimly. ‘Didn’t give them Dutchmen a chance to pick us all off. Just straight into ’em before they knew what was comin’.’
Saul nodded. Although he did not have direct command over them, Major Duffy was extremely popular amongst the men of the unit. Major Duffy’s posting was more like a liaison role between the British staff of the column and the colonial soldiers. But he had a habit of spending his time wherever he thought the bullets might fly and his cool courage and competence had earned him the enviable title of ‘boss’ rather than the formal ‘sir’ that the British officers insisted on.
‘You able to get on yer horse?’ Saul asked as he helped his colleague get to his feet.
Grady nodded, wincing when he placed weight on his leg where the bullet had lodged in his thigh. The rest of the troop were filing down from the kopje as Saul helped haul Grady astride his mount. Four months was more like four years, Saul thought as he doubled with O’Grady and reflected on his time in South Africa. All he had to do was survive another eight months and he would be free to go home. War was not as romantic as it had been portrayed by the cheering crowds in Brisbane whenthey had departed. It was just downright dirty, dull and dangerous.
General Roberts’ strategy was to thrust north along the axis of the vital railway track to Bloemfontein and hence the capital of the Boers, Pretoria. He planned to capture the seats of Boer government and in turn force the Boer armies to abandon their sieges of Ladysmith, Kimberley and Mafeking, names that had become rallying points of patriotism for the people of the British Empire. But in doing so he was forced to march his column at a relentless pace. To advance the required ten miles a day meant rations of only three hard biscuits, a quart of tea and half a pound of tinned beef per man, with little fodder for the horses and mules. The column’s route was marked by the carcasses of hundreds of horses and mules which had simply died of exhaustion and starvation. To the men of the colonial contingent the pitiful sight of brave animals dead and dying was heartbreaking. These were men who valued
‘Thanks, boss,’ Saul replied as he chambered a round to put his own horse out of her misery.
She no longer whinnied but lay on her side snorting in laboured breaths, blood oozing from five holes in her broad chest. Her big brown eyes rolled in pain as Saul levelled the rifle at her head and fired. She jerked at the impact and then relaxed. The pain was gone. Major Duffy turned sharply and cantered towards the knoll to rally the flanking party and take stock of what they may have found for intelligence purposes.
Saul limped across to Grady’s horse grazing quietly on the grass. The rider was sitting beside his mount holding his leg and pulling a face as he gritted his teeth but making no audible complaint. Saul knew Grady from Brisbane where he was renowned as a rugby player. He was also an easygoing soldier liked by his comrades.
‘I’ll get you down to the medical wagons, Harry,’ Saul said, bending over to give his comrade a sip from his water canteen. ‘The boss has given me your horse.’
Grady grinned up at him when he had swallowed the warm water. ‘Better a bullet than to die of the shits,’ he said, knowing that enteric fever and dysentery had taken a terrible toll on the expeditionary force since it had arrived.
‘Yer not going to die of that wound, Harry. Probably get sent home to boast about how yer got it in the charge against the Dutchmen.’
‘Trouble is I didn’t. I went down before I even heard the shots. Never got a chance to follow Major Duffy up the hill. I suppose if he hadn’t given the order so quick we might all be lyin’ out here dead,’ Grady reflected grimly. ‘Didn’t give them Dutchmen a chance to pick us all off. Just straight into ’em before they knew what was comin’.’
Saul nodded. Although he did not have direct command over them, Major Duffy was extremely popular amongst the men of the unit. Major Duffy’s posting was more like a liaison role between the British staff of the column and the colonial soldiers. But he had a habit of spending his time wherever he thought the bullets might fly and his cool courage and competence had earned him the enviable title of ‘boss’ rather than the formal ‘sir’ that the British officers insisted on.
‘You able to get on yer horse?’ Saul asked as he helped his colleague get to his feet.
Grady nodded, wincing when he placed weight on his leg where the bullet had lodged in his thigh. The rest of the troop were filing down from the kopje as Saul helped haul Grady astride his mount. Four months was more like four years, Saul thought as he doubled with O’Grady and reflected on his time in South Africa. All he had to do was survive another eight months and he would be free to go home. War was not as romantic as it had been portrayed by the cheering crowds in Brisbane whenthey had departed. It was just downright dirty, dull and dangerous.
General Roberts’ strategy was to thrust north along the axis of the vital railway track to Bloemfontein and hence the capital of the Boers, Pretoria. He planned to capture the seats of Boer government and in turn force the Boer armies to abandon their sieges of Ladysmith, Kimberley and Mafeking, names that had become rallying points of patriotism for the people of the British Empire. But in doing so he was forced to march his column at a relentless pace. To advance the required ten miles a day meant rations of only three hard biscuits, a quart of tea and half a pound of tinned beef per man, with little fodder for the horses and mules. The column’s route was marked by the carcasses of hundreds of horses and mules which had simply died of exhaustion and starvation. To the men of the colonial contingent the pitiful sight of brave animals dead and dying was heartbreaking. These were men who valued
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