Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction; War stories
He then shook hands with our colonel, we gave him a cheer, and
he rode on to where the Guards were drawn up.
Now then, we thought, the battle will begin. But still there were no
signs of the enemy; and the air, though hot and sultry, began to be
very hazy, so that you could scarcely see the town below, and the
hills opposite were merely a confused blur, in which no features could
be distinctly made out. After a while, the tension of feeling which
followed the General’s address relaxed, and we began to feel less as if
everything depended on keeping our rifles firmly grasped: we were told
to pile arms again, and got leave to go down by tens and twenties to
the stream below to drink. This stream, and all the hedges and banks
on our side of it, were held by our skirmishers, but the town had been
abandoned. The position appeared an excellent one, except that the
enemy, when they came, would have almost better cover than our men.
While I was down at the brook, a column emerged from the town, making
for our position. We thought for a moment it was the enemy, and you
could not make out the colour of the uniforms for the dust; but it
turned out to be our rear-guard, falling back from the opposite hills
which they had occupied the previous night. One battalion, of rifles,
halted for a few minutes at the stream to let the men drink, and I had
a minute’s talk with a couple of the officers. They had formed part of
the force which had attacked the enemy on their first landing. They had
it all their own way, they said, at first, and could have beaten the
enemy back easily if they had been properly supported; but the whole
thing was mismanaged. The volunteers came on very pluckily, they said,
but they got into confusion, and so did the militia, and the attack
failed with serious loss. It was the wounded of this force which had
passed through Guildford in the night. The officers asked us eagerly
about the arrangements for the battle, and when we said that the Guards
were the only regular troops in this part of the field, shook their
heads ominously.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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