Campaign of the Indus: In a Series of Letters from an Officer of the Bombay DivisionHoldsworth, T. W. E.
History
Campaign of the Indus: In a Series of Letters from an Officer of the Bombay Division
Holdsworth, T. W. E.
Afghan Wars
seeing none of our men in the place, and thinking it more than probable,
from what I knew of their character, that the very men whom I had been
endeavouring to save might take it into their heads to give me the
"_coup de grace_" now I was left alone, I made a desperate effort, got
on my legs, and managed to hobble out, when I soon found some of our
men, who supported me until a dooly could be brought, into which I was
placed, and was soon on my way to the doctor.
You may imagine my feelings all this time to be anything but pleasant. I
still continued coughing up blood, which was flowing also pretty freely
from my side. The idea that you may probably have only a few hours
longer to exist, with the many recollections that crowd into your mind
at such a time, is anything but a delightful one; and the being so
suddenly reduced from a state of vigorous activity to the sick, faintish
feeling that came over me, by no means added to the _agremens_ of my
situation.
I well recollect being carried through the gate, where General Willshire
with his staff and the officers who had been left with the reserve
companies were, and who all pressed forward to see who the unfortunate
fellow in the dooly was, when the low exclamation of "Poor Holdsworth!"
and the mysterious and mournful shaking of heads which passed among
them, by no means tended to enliven my spirits. I soon reached the place
where the doctors, with their understrappers, were busily employed among
the wounded, dying, and dead. I was immediately stripped and examined,
and then, for the first time, heard that the ball had passed through and
out of my body. I also now discovered that it had struck and gone
through my arm as well. Being very anxious, I begged Hunter, the doctor,
to let me know the worst. He shook his head, and told me "he thought it
a rather dangerous case, principally from my having spit so much blood."
He had not time, however, to waste many words with me, as he had plenty
of others to attend. Dickenson, also, I found here; having been wounded,
as I before told you. He did all he could to keep my spirits up, but, as
you may suppose, I felt still very far from being comfortable. Nor were
the various objects that met my eye of a consolatory nature: men lying,
some dead, others at their last gasp, while the agonizing groans of
those who were undergoing operations at the hands of the hospital
assistants, added to the horror of the scene. I may now say that I have
seen, on a small scale, every different feature of a fight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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