Captain Chamney says: Our corps were given the honour of the advance, the S.V.L.H. the honour of the first of that, and with Lumsden and old Showers at our head we occupied the kopje that was said to be the key of the whole position, but were instantly subjected to a heavy musketry fire. We lost one man and horse scouting, and then got settled down among some sangars, but the old Major scorned all cover, watching, absolutely regardless of the bullets, the enemy’s advance up a spruit on our right flank. Everyone had asked him to get down, but he always said, ‘Oh, I’m all right,’ and walked from one end of the line to the other. When all the rest had begun to retire, and we got no word, the Boers worked up closer and closer. I had only just said to him (he was but three or four yards behind me), ‘For God’s sake, Major, get under cover,’ when I heard the sing of bullets over my head and ‘plint,’ and, looking round, I saw he was hit. I said, ‘Are you hit, Major?’ and he replied, ‘Oh, nothing much, only my arm; send back for Dr. Powell.’ I crawled back on my belly to him and got his belts and things opened, and found also a big hole, just above the heart, which was bleeding copiously. Then Dr. Powell and two assistants came up, and we bandaged him as well as we could for bullets flying around, and, still on our bellies, pulled and lifted the old chap out of the range of fire. He was suffering evidently a good deal from suffocation; blood in his lungs, I suppose. I stayed with him as long as he was conscious—not many minutes—and had then to return to the men. I found him as we retired a little later there under the tree where we had laid him, and where we had to leave him and another man to the Boers. The ‘Retire’ came before he died, and Dr. Powell, making up his mind to stay with him, fixed his handkerchief to a stick to get what protection he could from it. However, the old chap dropped off, and, covering him with a blanket and closing his eyes, the Doctor left him to his rest and bolted, but, looking back, he saw the white flag, and saying, ‘What would the old man say if he knew he was taken, even dead, with a white flag over him?’ returned and took it down, and so we left him. The Boers took nothing but his spurs and badges. Dr. Powell returned at night under a Red Cross and got permission to remove the body to-day and we bury the old man this afternoon. It is a terrible loss to the corps, and all so utterly sad. There is something almost Homeric in that incident of the white flag being taken from beside the dead warrior’s body under fire. The ‘Times of India’ of May 9, 1900, contains the following appreciation of the gallant Major Showers: