A Soldier's Experience; or, A Voice from the Ranks: Showing the Cost of War in Blood and Treasure. A Personal Narrative of the Crimean Campaign, from the Standpoint of the Ranks; the Indian Mutiny, and Some of its Atrocities; the Afghan Campaigns of 1863Gowing, T. (Timothy)
History
A Soldier's Experience; or, A Voice from the Ranks: Showing the Cost of War in Blood and Treasure. A Personal Narrative of the Crimean Campaign, from the Standpoint of the Ranks; the Indian Mutiny, and Some of its Atrocities; the Afghan Campaigns of 1863
Gowing, T. (Timothy)
Crimean War, 1853-1856 -- Personal narratives
of truce out for about three hours, to allow the enemy to
take away their dead and wounded, and during that time the
greater portion of the troops that had been engaged returned
to the camp. I got a slight scratch in the forehead, but
nothing of any importance, so I have much to be thankful
for. We did not lose many men, as we were under cover. We
are creeping, bit by bit, up to the town; but the closer we
get, the more bitter the fighting becomes. We have now
plenty to eat and drink; there is all sorts of life in the
camp, and duty is not half so hard as it has been. We have
still the unseen enemy--cholera--with us, but upon the whole
we keep up our spirits remarkably well. Our men appear to
long for the day when we shall be let loose at the
town--bombarding does not seem to have much effect upon
their works--it must be taken with the bayonet, and whenever
the day of reckoning comes, it will be a heavy one.
Reinforcements keep joining us, both French and English,
almost every day; and we have a splendid army, in spite of
our heavy losses, ready at our commander's call to advance
with the flag of old England, and plant it on the proud
walls of this noble fortress, which has put all others in
the shade. Hardly a day passes but more guns and mortars are
being mounted, and what the next bombardment will be I do
not know. I will write as often as I can, but you must
excuse some of my short notes; although I wear a red coat, I
hope there is a warm heart beating beneath it. I must
conclude with love to all, and double allowance for poor
mother.
Believe me ever, dear Parents,
Your affectionate son,
T. GOWING,
Sergeant,
Royal Fusiliers.
Thus ended all the boasting of the Russians. The flag of truce was up
for two hours, and then had to be renewed, for they had not all their
dead and wounded removed. We acted with them as they did with us on the
18th. A chain of sentries was placed out about 60 yards in front of our
trenches, and all that fell on the inner side of the chain were carried
by our people and laid down for their friends to take away; their men
were very sullen, and their officers sarcastic--inquiring as to when we
were going to take the town. Some of our officers told them we should
awake them some of these fine mornings when they little suspected us;
and our people joked them in return by asking when they were going to
put us into the sea. A number of their officers could speak French, but
few could speak English. The repulse that they had just sustained damped
their spirits considerably; but the moment the white flag was out of
sight, we were at it again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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