An Essay on Tides
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The Tides Of War Pt. 05.5 free porn video
Part 5.5
Chapter 22
The Officers Call had been delayed until David got back from the Palace.
He opened the meeting by telling them a British Army inspection team was coming to Kanda to inspect the ‘Rabble’ that guarded the Pass.
The reaction of his officers were what he expected: Anger and disbelief.
After they had cooled down, he went on to say the label ‘Rabble’ had been conferred on them by their former General, Sir Reginald Fitzroy.
He smiled. ‘The Prince has suggested – and I concur – that the ‘Rabble’ be paraded in the city. Therefore, Gentlemen, the soldiers of Tiger, Cobra and Panther Companies will pass in review in front of the Prince and his guests. Subedar Major Para will lead the review. I am sure he will ensure our ‘Rabble’ well be well turned out.’
The glint in Para’s eyes spoke volumes.
‘Also, I have reviewed the recommendations you provided me regarding command of Panther Company and I concur that Havildar Rhana has demonstrated the qualities necessary for command. I am promoting him to Subedar and look forward to his leadership of Panther in the upcoming parade.’
The smiles of his officers was more than sufficient validation of his decision.
‘It has also been suggested that all the weapons recovered from our engagements at the Pass be put on display for the inspection team. I’ll leave Subedar Hangar to arrange that.’
Then David spoke about the Magnesium, ‘Memsahib Doctor Fletcher has suggested a solution for the problem of illumination at night at the Pass.’ He went on to describe its brilliant light and how, once ignited, it was almost impossible to extinguish.
‘We need a means of igniting the powder and delivering effectively it without it endangering our men. What we need to devise is a receptacle for the powder that includes some sort of fuse that will give the thrower four or five seconds before it ignites. The receptacle must be tough enough not to break once thrown or the powder will disperse without generating the illumination we need.
Everyone started suggesting things and David smiled knowing that, between them, they would arrive at a solution.
Before the meeting broke up, Turin reported that patrols continued to reconnoiter the Pass and found that it remained blocked at point about a 1000 yard from the entrance, mainly as a result of new avalanches. That indicated the snow was melting during the day and triggering the avalanches. He estimated that it might be possible to reach the cleft in four or five weeks.
Over the next nine days, the Fort was a beehive of activity in anticipation of the review. Equipment and clothing was cleaned and mended, saddles and tack was polished until it gleamed, the horses were brushed and brushed again until they shone
Subedar Major Para would lead the units out to drill using David’s Thor for his mount.
Two days before leaving for Putan, a dress rehearsal was staged outside the Fort. David sat on Kahn to receive the salute, which was rendered by Subedar Major Para, using his kukri in place of a sabre. Behind him came the colour bearer with the Lovat green flag emblazoned with 1st Khana Rifles. Turin and Tiger Company followed, its guidon proudly displaying the crouching Tiger. Sultar’s Cobra Company trailed Tiger Company with Rhana following at the head of Panther.
David’s chest swelled with pride at the sight of his command, every man’s back ramrod straight as they passed in review.
Chapter 23
Peshawar led General Sir Reginald Fitzroy and his staff of three officers into the audience room of the Prince, who for once was dressed in the full robes of a Maharaja.
Fitzroy bowed his head and introduced his Officers, Major’s Barton and Keeling and Captain Fitzroy.
The Prince appraised the men before him. The General he judged to be in his sixties, short with a prominent waistline. The redness of his face was emphasised by his white mutton chop whiskers. He had an impatient look verging on arrogance about him.
Of the two Major’s, Barton had all the hallmarks of being a ‘yes man,’ whilst Keeling had a look of intelligence to go with his professional bearing. Keeling’s face regarded the Prince coolly.
The Captain did not favour his father, he saw. He was stick thin with a pasty complexion and is eyes were darting all about the room as if expecting an attack.
After welcoming them, the Prince bid them to sit, waiting for the General to start the engagement.
The general coughed to clear his throat and began, ‘Sir, Her Majesty’s government is alarmed at the reports that the Khana Pass is being guarded by an undisciplined rabble. As you are aware, that Pass, along with the Khyber, are the two main routes by which a land attack into India could be launched. Therefore, Her Majesty’s Government think it only prudent that the British Army should guard the Pass.’
The Prince gave a thin smile, ‘On what reports do you base these assumptions General?’
The General coughed again, and Major Barton replied, ‘The report came from no less a person than your own General, Sir.’
The Prince looked surprised, ‘The man you mentioned is not my General. He was stripped of his rank and imprisoned for treason for conspiring with the Afghans and Russians to attack this kingdom. Unfortunately, he escaped, along with several senior officers. Should they return to Kanda they will be executed.’
‘So no one is in charge of guarding the Pass?’ Major Barton interjected
.
‘On the contrary,’ the Prince replied, ‘I have a Colonel who is responsible for that duty. Actually, a former Officer in your command, General, and one whose performance in several battles does great credit to Her Majesty’s army.’
The four officers looked at each other, trying to think of whom the Prince could be referring.
The prince continued, ‘You will have the opportunity to meet him tomorrow and see the . . . ‘rabble’ he leads. Before the Pass closed this year ,he and his men repulsed four attempts by the Afghans to take the Pass. An effort during the course of which the Afghan’s lost at least 200 men, for the unfortunate loss of one man from our forces.’ He paused before continuing, ‘Am I right in saying General that your troops are armed with the Martini Henry rifle?’
The general gave a curt nod.
The Prince smiled, ‘I thought so. Then you may be interested in inspecting what the Afghans were armed with.’
He led them to another room where the weapons recovered from the engagements were laid out. He picked up a Russian rifle from the 168 that were on display and handed it to the General, ‘I am informed that this is a bolt action rifle firing a smokeless cartridge that is vastly superior to the Martini Henry.’
He watched in amusement as the officers examined the rifles examining, their silent sharing of looks of concerned surprise communicating volumes.
Finally the General blustered, ‘So the Afghans have a better rifle than the Martini Henry. All that proves is that you are as disadvantaged as our troops are.’
The Prince shook his head, ‘I am sure the Afghans wish that were true but, unfortunately for them, it is not. Our soldiers have a rifle considerably superior to these,’ he said, indicating the captured rifles.
He went to the door and called a guard. The rifleman came in and gave a sharp present arms. The kukri on his web belt clearly identified him as a Ghurkha. The Prince told him to stand easy.
He let the British officers stare for several moments at the rifle in the soldier’s hands, before resuming the conversation, ‘This is a Cartwright .303 rifle. It holds 10 rounds of smokeless-powder ammunition in its magazine and, in the hands of a well trained professional soldier such as this, can discharge those rounds in less than fifteen seconds. It has an effective killing range of 1500 yards and all the t
roops guarding the Pass are armed with one.’
The Officers gathered around the motionless rifleman looking at the rifle.
‘Where did you get these weapons?’ demanded the General.
The Prince smiled sweetly, ‘They were procured in England by my Colonel.’
Now irate almost past his ability to control himself, the General demanded, ‘And just who devil is this Colonel you keep speaking of?’
‘His name is Colonel David Ramage, formally of the 2nd Ghurkha Rifles. I understand he was forced to resign his commission from your command.’
The officers froze, the captain’s naturally pasty face going even whiter at the disclosure.
The General blustered, ‘That man chose to resign his commission rather than face a general court martial for willful disregarding an order in combat, in my book a coward’s way out.’
The Prince’s face took on a look of surprise, ‘Really? How remarkable. You see, amongst my troops I have a number of Ghurkhas, men who were present on the day of the incident to which you refer. In light of your characterisation of the event, I find it hard to understand their decision not to re-enlist in the British Army due to their distaste for the outcome of that enquiry. In fact, it was based on their information about what actually occurred that I offered Mr. Ramage a commission in my Army.’
A deathly hush fell upon the group.
Then the Prince smiled, ‘But enough of the past, you gentlemen must be hungry and tired. Food has been prepared for you and your quarters are ready. Tomorrow you can judge for yourselves the calibre of the men who guard the Pass, and speak with Colonel Ramage in person.’
David, followed by his command, had arrived at the city in the early morning that same day. Entering at the West gate, they followed the road, which led around the back of the Palace before ultimately arriving at the Royal Stables.
Ashar Kahn was there to greet him, while his grooms showed David’s men where to put their horses. As the soldiers and stable staff went about their duties, Ashar told David his men would be shown to quarters after they had seen to the welfare of their horses.
With a twinkle in his eyes he said, ‘Memsahib Susan is in her apartment, should you wish to see her. I can take care of Kahn for you.’
David stuttered his thanks. Throwing his saddlebags over his shoulder, he set off to find her.
An hour later she was laid across his naked chest, kissing his neck, ‘You smell of horse,’ she whispered.
He chuckled running his hand over her naked back, ‘And you smell of disinfectant.’
Later they bathed together in the large sunken bath. Afterward, he watched as she wriggled her hips getting into her tight jodhpurs, tucking in the silk shirt she wore. That almost resulted in the need for another bath.
They had a late breakfast served on the terrace by two Indian girls whose continuous giggles as they attended the couple unnerved David beyond what the snap of Afghan bullets had been able to accomplish.
Susan chuckled delightedly at his discomfort, ‘Darling they are only doing that because they approve of my choice of man.’
He shrugged his shoulder, but before she could frame a suitable response, a disturbance in the streets below distracted them: A column of red-coated British soldiers marching towards the Palace gates, lead by four mounted officers.
David squinted his eyes, ‘General Fitzroy himself,’ he muttered, ‘and Barton. Don’t know the other Officer, but . . . my God, Captain Clarence Fitzroy! The old boy must have placed him on his staff. At least he can’t harm anyone there,’ he said, the bitterness apparent in his voice.
Susan put her arm around him, ‘David, you have to meet them tomorrow, but the Prince asked that you keep out of the way today. So, can you bear to spend the day with me?’
David frowned. ‘Does the Prince know about us,’ he asked.
Susan laughed, ‘I think the whole Palace knows about us. That costume I wore was Princess Yasmin’s, and she knows why it is worn’
The following morning Peshawar led David down along the lower level of the Palace. Finally, coming to a halt by a rather nondescript door, he indicated that David should enter.
The marble floored room appeared empty, except for the throne sat on a raised dais.
Then he noticed the Prince between the columns that opened the room to the outside. He was standing by the rail looking out over the city. He turned, seeing David, and smiled at the look of surprise in his eyes before walking towards him, ‘I know, my friend, you have never seen me in the Royal robes before. But I have had to make an exception for today, to remind our guests who rules here in Kanda.’
The Robes were magnificent: The coat, of white silk, had gold threads running through it, a broad, blue silk sash was fastened by a star encrusted with diamonds, around his neck he wore a heavy gold chain, the turban he wore had a huge ruby in the centre, his fingers sparkled with diamonds and emeralds, and a large pearl hung from an ear.
The Prince chuckled, ‘Contrary to appearances, I don’t mind telling you, David, that it is most uncomfortable.’
David smiled at the comment and the tensions of the coming meeting started to dissipate.
It was true that the men he was about to meet had orchestrated the ending of his career in the British Army, but that had led to his meeting with this man, and he had changed David’s life for the better.
‘Peshawar has informed Subedar Major Para that the parade will start when we go out on to the terrace.’ The Prince chuckled, ‘he informs me that the men were up before dawn cleaning their equipment and horses.’
He looked keenly at David, ‘How do you feel about meeting these men David. The men who ruined your career?’
David paused before replying, ‘I should feel angry I know, Sir, but instead I feel gratitude. Indirectly they have given me a better life. A life I would not have had otherwise.’
The Prince looked fondly at David, ‘Their actions did a great service for me and my country, David,’ he said as he moved back inside, seating himself on the throne.
Peshawar announced the British officers and stood to one side as General Fitzroy came bustling in with the other three officers behind him. They came to an abrupt halt, seeing David stood at the right hand of the Prince on his throne.
‘Good morning gentlemen. I trust you all slept well and your quarters proved adequate?’ the Prince purred. ‘I should like to present my Colonel in command of the 1st Khana Rifles. Colonel Ramage.’
David took a step forward and saluted General Fitzroy, who hesitated a second before returning the salute.
‘You may present your Officers to Colonel Ramage, General Fitzroy,’ the Prince said with a hint of a smile on his face.
The General coughed, ‘Major Barton my aide de camp’ he murmured.
Barton looked at David hesitating before offering a salute. David returned it adding, ‘The Major and I have met before’
The general moved to the next officer, ‘Major Keeling, representing central Command at Bombay.’
Major Keeling gave David a sharp salute, which he returned.
‘I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting you before Major Keeling,’ David murmured, thinking he must be on the staff of Lieutenant General Horace Makpeiece, Supreme Commander, India.
‘No, Sir, you have not. I’m here to evaluate the military situation at the Pass and report back to my superior.’
The General moved next to his son, ‘Captain Fitzroy, a member of my staff.’
David looked at him, his face had gone a deathly white and his eyes wouldn’t meet David’s.
He offered up a sloppy salute, to which David replied crisply and precisely.
‘Are yes, Captain Fitzroy, we have met before.’
The Prince smiled, ‘Well, gentlemen, now that we know each other, I’m sure there are q
uestions you wish to direct to Colonel Ramage.’
Major Keeling was the first to respond, ‘How many men do you have to guard the Pass, Colonel Ramage?’
‘Which Pass? The 1st Khana Rifles guard two, Major Keeling.’ Keeling frowned, David continued, ‘The 1st Khana Rifles are responsible for guarding both the Patena and the Khana Passes from invasion.’
There was silence as the full implication of what he had just said sank in.
Barton broke the silence, ‘We have been given to understand that only a rabble guards the Passes.’
David’s eyebrows rose, ‘The 1st Khana Rifles is comprised only of Ghurkha troops, over half them trained by the British Army. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you gentleman about the fighting abilities of a Ghurkha soldier. During the engagements that have been fought since the Rifles were formed, on one occasion only 25 Ghurkhas blocked the assault on Khana Pass of several hundred Afghan warriors. After the attack we counted over 200 dead Afghanis.’
‘But how many troops do you command,’ the General demanded.
David smiled, ‘The current muster book stands at 332. Of those I have 250 that can be put into the field at a moment’s notice.’
‘Pah! I should like to see these troops,’ the General said belligerently.
‘And so you shall,’ the Prince said, rising from the throne and moving out on to the terrace. ‘I should like you to take the salute General Fitzroy,’ the Prince murmured.
They looked down on the wide boulevard below them as, in the distance, a band struck up a military march. The Prince smiled at David and whispered an aside, ”Over the Hills and Far Away,’ I heard a military band play it at Oxford and made it a staple for the Royal band upon my return. Rather appropriate, wouldn’t you say?’
David watched the faces of the British officers as Subedar Major Para came into view with the colour bearer behind, then Turin in front of his Tiger Company, arrayed in ranks of ten. Cobra and Panther Companies followed crisply.
Major Keeling gasped, ‘They’re cavalry!’
‘No, Mounted Infantry,’ David replied.
As Para drew level he gave the salute with his kukri. David’s arm snapped up instantly to return it, followed by the British officers.
David’s heart swelled with pride at the turnout of his men as they passed.
When the last rank disappeared around the bend of the boulevard, the Prince turned to the assembled officers, ‘I’m hardly one to judge, gentlemen, but those troops hardly look like a rabble to me.’
They returned inside where refreshments were served.
A short time later Para, Turin, Sultar and Rhana joined them and David introduced them to the General and his staff officers. The Prince noticed that General Fitzroy, his son and Major Barton kept to themselves, while Major Keeling was in deep conversation with the Ghurkha Officers.
‘I would hazard a guess that Major Keeling is the one to convince here,’ the Prince murmured to David.
At the reception later that evening, has the General was availing himself of the Prince’s malt whisky, David moved out to the terrace to light a cheroot. Turning at the sound of footsteps, he found Major Keeling approaching.
Keeling accepted David’s offer of a cheroot, ‘At Subedar Major Para’s invitation, I took the opportunity to visit your men today. Colonel. I was struck by the loyalty the men have for you. You failed to mention that you were present at all the engagements that took place at the Pass. I have to say, I’m impressed by what you have accomplished.’
His voice lowered as he looked around to make sure he wasn’t being over heard, ‘The British Army is being stretched like at no other period in its history. The Sudan and South Africa are close to war, and we are not prepared for it. The War Office is stripping troops in India to serve in those coming conflicts, leaving barely enough men to guard the Khyber Pass.
‘The Army has begun to be equipped with weapons like yours, the Lee Metford rifle, but they will go to the Armies of Sudan and South Africa first. It may be a year or more before we have them in India. If we had to station troops in Kana, we would have been badly exposed to a serious Russian threat to the Khyber.
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