“Nobby, watchin’ the reinforcements march in, was the first to spot him, in his khaki uniform, an’ with the black Maltese cross on his collar. Nobby dashed back to our lines lookin’ for Sam Cross, an’ found him sittin’ down quietly, drinkin’ cold tea.
“‘Sam,’ sez Nobby, very excited, ‘who do you think’s turned up?’
“‘Father John,’ sez Sam, calmly, an’ Nobby was rather disappointed, because he wanted to create a little sensation.
“‘I had a feelin’ he was comin’,’ sez Sam, gettin’ up, but I didn’t durst go down to see ’em marchin’ in, for fear I’d be disappointed. No,’ he sez, shakin’ his head at Nobby’s question, ‘I didn’t know he was in India.’
“Nobby told me afterwards it made his flesh creep to hear him — it was like listenin’ to a man that’s in the habit of seein’ ghosts. Nobody saw ’em meet, but when I met Sam comin’ from the Kent’s lines — where the padre’s tent was — his eyes were red, like a man who’d been cryin’.
“Next mornin’ we formed up for the grand assault. Soon after daybreak the guns got into action, the howitzers goin’ close up under the escort of the Guides’ Cavalry, an’ shellin’ the sangar, where the enemy was lyin’ as thick as bees in a hive. At eleven o’clock the infantry moved, the Guides an’ the Anchesters on the enemy’s front, the Ghoorkas an’ the Wessex on the left, the Kents an’ Punjabis on the right, and the Lancasters in reserve. I’ve only got a dim idea of what the fight was like. We went ahead by short rushes from cover to cover. The air seemed to be filled with flyin’ bullets, an’ the enemy had got an old gun into position, an’ was dealin’ out bits of scrap-iron at regular intervals.
“It was terrible hard, when we began the ascent of the hill, for the ground was broken up, an’ big boulders ‘an stones came flyin’ down to meet us. These were worse than the bullets. We’d got into a tight place, with a big, deep nullah in front of us, an’ between us an’ the enemy, an’ we lay down firin’ steady. The nullah had to be crossed, an’ we had to rest before we could do it, in the face of the fire. We could hear the chaps on the right come into action, an’ from where we was we could see the Ghoorkas an’ Wessex comin’ up on the left, an’ I was just wonderin’ why it was that the Wessex, which is a rotten regiment in peace time, should be such a decent corps in war time, when I heard Sam Cross shout, ‘Go back — go back, for God’s sake, Father John!’
“I looked round.
“Father John was comin’ up the hill behind us — not foolhardy, but takin’ cover.
“Sam’s face was white, but the padre was smilin’ when he reached us. His big pipe was in his mouth, an’ he crouched down behind the little rampart of stones that protected us, with a pleasant nod.
“Personally, I thought it was a bit silly of him to come into danger like this, but I found out afterwards that he’d heard the General say that the success of the fight would depend upon the Guides an’ the Anchesters. You see, the intelligence staff knew nothing about the big nullah on the hill, an’ even we who was lyin’ along the side of it, didn’t know what a terrible business it would be crossin’ it, for it ran so that it was fully exposed to the enemy’s fire, an’ every man who scrambled out on the other side could be picked off by the enemy’s marksmen.
“When Father John knew what we were in for he came up. Lyin’ down there, with his pipe goin’ he was full of spirits, an’ made some of our youngsters, who’d got a bit fidgety, cheerful, too.
“‘Sing,’ he sez, as the fire got heavier an’ heavier.
“‘What shall we sing, Father?’ sez Nobby.
“‘Anything,’ sez Father John, an’ he started us goin’ with ‘Where are the boys of the Old Brigade?’ an’ from one end of the line to the other we roared the chorus : —
‘Steadily, shoulder to shoulder,
Steadily, blade by blade;
Steady an’ strong,
Marchin’ along —
Like the boys of the Old Brigade.’
“In the middle of it the helio from headquarters began to wink, an’ by an’ by the order was passed down the lines, ‘Get ready!’
“Then, when there came a slackenin’ of fire from the enemy, our bugle went, ‘Come along! come along! come along, Anchesters!’ — that’s our regimental call — an’ the ‘Advance!’
“We were in the nullah an’ over the edge of it before the execution began. The minute I reached the other side I could see the danger. Up the hill, as far as the nullah, the ground had been steep an’ covered with big stones — it was from this nullah that they’d rolled the boulders down on us. Now, we were on a gentle slope, as bare of cover as a soup-plate, an’ there was no protection from the fire from the ridge above.
“The Guides on our right got the first blast of the storm, an’ they went down in little patches, as if some blight had struck ‘em, passin’ a man here, an’ takin’ a man there.
“Steady, the Anchesters!’ yelled the Adjutant; ‘fix bayonets!’
“We was a hundred an’ fifty yards from the position, an’ I braced myself for the run.
“‘Charge!’
“With a yell that was almost like a scream, we dashed forward. I never ran so fast, or with any less effort, in my life.
“The bullets made a noise like a gramophone before the tune starts, an’ I’ve got an idea that I saw a feller fallin’, but I hadn’t time to notice properly before I’d followed Nobby over the breastworks.
“Nobby is the finest bayonet fighter in the regiment, an’ the second man he met was dead before the first one had fallen.
“I got home with the bayonet on a big Afridi, who made a slice at me with his big knife, an’ then someone fell against me with a cough. In a fraction of a second, as I half turned to see who it was, I saw an Afridi pass his knife through Sam Crow.
“Then two fellers came at me — I got the first, easy. I parried a blow, an’ gave him a short-arm thrust that brought him down — an’ the other feller was shot dead by Captain Marsham, an’ then the ‘ cease fire ‘ sounded.
“I looked round. Nobby, who never loses an opportunity for business, was pickin’ up all the valuable-lookin’ articles, such as gold-mounted swords, within reach. I was thinkin’, regretful, of poor Sam, when, to my astonishment, he came up. He was bleedin’ from a cut head, where some Afridi had got home on him, but there was no other sign of injury.
“‘Smithy,’ he sez, quietly, come an’ help me with Father John — I — I mustn’t lift him.’
“‘Good God,’ whispers Nobby, droppin’ his swords, ‘not — not — ?’
“Sam nodded.
“‘Father John was killed as we came over there.’ He pointed to the ramparts.
“He made no sign of grief, not even that evenin’, when we laid the Father in a deep grave at the foot of the hills — an’ he was the only man who didn’t cry as we buried the greatest an’ kindest of Christians an’ friends.
“Sam only stood, with his bandaged head an’ his white face; swayin’ a little from side to side. Me an’ Nobby, in our rough way, tried to cheer him when we got back to the camp — although we wasn’t feeling any too