Jack Windrush Collection

Chapter 31

Jack had often heard of the Highland regiments; most people reckoned them amongst the best of the British Army, and in his mind, he considered them as nearly equal to the Guards or the Royal Malvens. Today was the first time he"d seen them close up. Expecting mature, bearded warriors of herculean stature as in the novels of Walter Scott, he was surprised to see that save for their exotic uniforms they appeared little different from men in other regiments. The men of the 93rd, the Sutherland Highlanders, looked even younger, if anything, with only a few mature men scattered through the youthful ranks.

General Sir Colin Campbell was the opposite; a man of vast military experience, he had a lined, wrinkled face and the shrewdest eyes Jack had ever seen.

"We"re moving forward, Windrush. You"d best stay with us for now, and I will use you as a runner if we need the 113th."

"Yes, sir." Jack glanced behind him, where the 113th was forming up.

"Loose cartridges!" Campbell gave the order and the Highland Brigade obeyed. Jack watched as the kilted regiments prepared for war. Then more orders cracked across the brigade.

"With ball cartridge, load!"

The sounds were curiously loud, blotting out the more distant rumble of battle; the rattle of equipment, the soft clicking of the elongated bullets dropping down the barrels of the new Minié rifles and the subdued mutter of conversation. The Highlanders were preparing for their first battle against European opposition since Waterloo, nearly forty years before.

"We are going into battle, men," Campbell said, "for most of you it is the first time. Pay no attention to your wounded comrades; let them lie until the bandsmen and stretcher parties come for them. Don"t be in any hurry to fire; wait for orders and then aim low. Keep steady and keep silent." He rode along the front of the men with his wrinkled face concerned. "The army will be watching you. Make me proud of the Highland Brigade."

As a psalm arose from the Highlander"s ranks, Campbell gave the order to advance. They marched three regiments abreast until they reached the river at a spot where it altered course to the north-east.

"Cross in echelon," Campbell ordered at once, and Jack watched as the regiments reformed and forded the river one after the other.

"That"s the result of months of training, young Windrush," Campbell said; he looked up as a staff officer galloped up to him. "Here"s the Duke himself."

Jack watched as Campbell spoke to the Duke of Cambridge about the stalled advance of the Guards. He heard the Duke say, "There will be a disaster unless the First Division is withdrawn, Sir Colin."

"No, Your Grace. A disaster is certain if there is a withdrawal."

When the Duke rode away, Campbell raised his voice. "It were better that every man of Her Majesty"s Guards should lie dead upon the field of battle than that they should turn their backs upon the enemy." He looked across the battlefield. "While the Guards recapture the Great Redoubt, Windrush, we will advance in echelon up the east shoulder of Kourgane, take that smaller Russian battery of the Lesser Redoubt and hit the enemy in the flank. Remain at my side in case we need your 113th."

"Yes, sir." Jack was unsure whether to feel flattered by the attention or nervous as Campbell pushed his horse in front of the 42nd Foot, the most advanced of the Highland regiments, faced the Russian lines and said calmly and simply, "Forward, 42nd."

Jack swallowed hard. This deliberate advance against entrenched European infantry and artillery was unlike anything he had experienced in Burma. He had heard that Campbell had a reputation for methodical, even ponderous movement but there was nothing slow about this advance as he led the Highland Brigade up the flank of Kourgane. They passed the 77th Foot, standing in line, and the 88th Foot, the Connaught Rangers, known as the Devil"s Own, a regiment whose reputation for wildness was surpassed only by their fighting ability.

The Rangers had formed square and yelled insults as the Highlanders marched past.

"Let the Scotchmen go on! They"ll do the work!"

The Highlanders replied in kind, shaking fists and roaring their high-spirited insults in Gaelic and Lowland Scots. God help the Russians if Campbell unleashed this lot among them. Jack glanced behind him. The Highland regiments remained in echelon, one after the other and except for their response to the Connaught Rangers; they saved their breath for the advance. Jack flinched as the cannon in the Little Redoubt fired, jetting out orange flame and white smoke.

Campbell noticed Jack"s reaction. "Never mind the shine, Windrush. Never let the men see you flinch. You are a British officer; better to die than waver."

Once beyond the 88th, Campbell sent forward Captain Montgomery with a cloud of skirmishers to clear the ground of any light Russian sharpshooters. "You stay with me, Windrush. I may yet need the 113th to guard my rear."

"Yes, sir." Jack tried not to duck as the Russian battery fired again. Campbell barely spared the Little Redoubt a glance.

"We"ll have the beggars out of there in a trice." Campbell frowned. "The Guards are in the Great Redoubt: ride ahead, Windrush and remind Montgomery that he has carte blanche to fire at will."

With one glance behind him, Jack saw the entire Highland Brigade streaming up the slope. Across the river and far in the rear of the fighting, the 113th stood as a solid block of red. "Yes, sir." He kicked in his heels and bounded forward to find Montgomery.

"General Campbell"s compliments sir, and you are free to fire at will."

"I know that, dammit." Montgomery was a long-faced man who looked perfectly at home in the forefront of battle. "There are the Russians now."

As the reformed Guards Brigade pushed into the Great Redoubt, the Russians split, with most retreating at speed and a few hundred attaching themselves to a vast Russian column which marched south to counter the Highland Brigade.

"That"s the Kazan regiment, I believe." Montgomery raised his voice. "Right my lads, there"s your target. Shoot them flat!"

"Wait!" A staff officer in finery and panic, rode across the front of the skirmishers. "Don"t fire! They"re French!"

"The devil they are!" Montgomery said.

"Na, there"s nae mistaking thon devils." A private of the 42nd raised his Minié without a qualm and fired into the advancing mass of Russians.

"They"re French!" the staff officer nearly wailed, but as the other skirmishers opened fire on them, Campbell arrived with the main body of the 42nd.

Jack took a deep breath. After their rapid ascent of the hill, the 42nd were panting; the Russians far outnumbered them, and their supporting regiments were still climbing in the rear. Jack wondered what the 42nd would do. What would the 113th do? They would either charge, if they had the breath, or halt, form a line and fire a volley. Neither choice was perfect; a charge may not be effective with the men blown by the climb, and after firing, the men would have to reload their rifles, which would allow the Russians time to close.

What would the 113th do? They would either charge, if they had the breath, or halt, form a line and fire a volley. Neither choice was perfect; a charge may not be effective with the men blown by the climb, and after firing, the men would have to reload their rifles, which would allow the Russians time to close.Montgomery had no doubt. "Watch and learn," he said.

The 42nd neither halted nor charged. With the red hackles bright in their bonnets and bare knees twinkling beneath the dark green of their kilts, they continued to march, presented their rifles and fired without halting. Their cheers rose high, an exultant challenge to the Gods of War, the Czar and anybody else who ever doubted the skill and courage of British infantry in general and the 42nd in particular.

Shocked by such unexpected tactics, the Kazan Regiment flinched. As the Russians were marching in column, only the first few ranks could reply to the murderous fire of the 42nd, and they turned around and retreated.

Jack stared. "I"ve never seen troops march and fire at the same time," he said.

"Neither has anybody else," Montgomery didn"t attempt to hide the pride in his voice, "but we are the forty-twa, the Black Watch."

For a moment Jack wished he could instill such confidence and discipline into the 113th, but he knew his men lacked the cohesiveness and the fine officers of the Black Watch.

"Watch your flank, 42nd!" Campbell"s voice cut through the jubilation. Jack saw another body of Russian troops emerge from behind a spur of the hill at the side of the Highlanders. If they hit the 42nd like that, they could roll up the regiment and destroy them.

As the left flank company of the 42nd wheeled to face this new danger, the second Highland regiment, the 93rd, came up the hill behind and to the left of the 42nd. Rather than catch the 42nd in the flank, the Russians were themselves caught by the 93rd. Once more, hundreds of Highland bullets ripped into the Russians. This regiment, the Sousdal, fought back. Still outnumbering the British, they returned fire, so clouds of white powder smoke rolled across the hill and men on both sides fell.

"Stubborn buggers, these Russians," Montgomery said. "Keep firing my lads!"

Jack saw the movement first. Dim through the smoke; he saw a further mass of Russians appear beyond the extreme left flank of the 93rd, with cavalry supporting the infantry.

"If that lot take us…" Jack trotted back to Campbell. "Sir! Shall I bring up the 113th?" He measured the distance his regiment would have to cover. "We can catch the Russians unaware, sir."

"Devil take it, man," Campbell was as calm as if he was walking the streets of his native Glasgow, "you want to share the glory do you?" He gave a sour grin. "There will be plenty of fighting for your boys, Windrush, don"t you fret. In the meantime, let my Highlanders win their battle."

The third of the Highland battalions, the 79th Camerons, crested the rise with a cheer and a volley that tore considerable gaps in the Russians. They marched on, alternately cheering and firing, pressing the Russians before them.

"Now there is something you won"t see every day," Montgomery approved.

The sudden rattle of horse equipment caught Jack"s attention. Two batteries of horse artillery had forded the Alma and ridden right up the hill. With the horses panting and heaving, the gunners unlimbered and fired straight into the Russians. It was a situation for which the God of battles had created artillery; supporting infantry in the field and with a perfect target of the massed enemy over open sights. Grapeshot and solid balls lambasted the Russians, who were driven back into the shelter of a dip.

"The Russians are running!" The words ran the length of the British line.

For a moment Jack saw the stand in which the Russian civilians had sat. He saw the panic as they realised the Allies had defeated their army and were pushing forward all along the line. The woman who had so captivated Haverdale was on her feet, gathering her parasol and baggage, and only two men remained. One was a broad-shouldered man with a shock of fair hair, the other the tall civilian with the eye-patch. Jack looked at them for a second and then gunsmoke drifted across the field, and he lost sight of them.

"Windrush," Campbell"s voice was rough in his ear. "My compliments to Colonel Murphy and I will not require the services of the 113th Foot this day."

Looking around the field, with the dead Russians either lying in heaps or in full retreat and the Highlanders reloading and laughing among themselves, Jack wondered if Raglan would ever require his regiment in this campaign.