Riding with the guns of the Horse Artillery that summer morning were two men, Sergeant Patrick Mullane and Gunner James Collis, who were destined to win no little glory in the somewhat inglorious fight. They were by no means the only heroes of Maiwand, for many stirring deeds were done that day; but the slaughter was terrific, and of all who earned the honour of the V.C. only these two survived. As an example of the courage displayed by the British troops the story may be told of how, when our native infantry broke and fled before the Afghan attack, the 66th Regiment was left alone to receive the onset of the enemy. Such a small body of men could do nothing, however valiantly they fought, and very reluctantly they obeyed the order to fall back. Following up their advantage, the Afghans now pressed them more closely. In among the doomed soldiers leapt the white-robed Pathans, stabbing and slashing with their long knives until they succeeded in breaking up the men into small parties, who could be more easily cut down. Towards the end of the day a little company of the 66th, officers and men, gathered together for a last stand in a little village some distance from Maiwand. Surrounded by a yelling horde, they fired volley after volley, but the return fire of the enemy gradually thinned their ranks. At length, so it is recorded, ten privates and one officer alone remained. Back to back stood the brave eleven, determined never to give in, for the honour of the regiment and their country. And one by one they dropped where they stood, until, it is related, but one man remained erect, facing his foes undaunted. One man against some hundreds. Then the Afghan rifles spoke out once more, and the last of that stricken remnant fell with a bullet through his heart. But it is of Mullane and Collis that I propose to speak here, and of how they won their V.C.’s. After the fortune of the battle was decided and the stricken British brigade commenced its retreat to Candahar the Royal Horse Artillery made many gallant attempts to beat off the pursuing Afghans. Indeed, but for the masterly way in which they worked their guns, the losses on our side must have been considerably greater than they were. Sergeant Mullane stood by his gun on one of these occasions, and after a round or two had been fired helped to limber up smartly to follow the force. As the gun moved on a driver was seen to fall. The Afghans were tearing after the fugitives at full speed, and the wounded man lay directly in their path. Only a daring man would have ventured to turn and face that fierce oncoming crowd; but “Paddy” Mullane was that man. Racing back to where the driver lay, he lifted him up in his arms and, being a big strong fellow, quickly carried him out of the enemy’s reach. It was a narrow squeak, however; as he turned with his burden to make for his comrades, the nearest Afghans were within a few yards of him, and one or two wild shots whizzed by his ears.