CHAPTER VIII
On the 9th November 1914 the right of the Indian Corps was still just north of Givenchy and in touch with the French. On this day our Allies projected some move, and I was asked if we could take over that village and its front, but anxious as I always was to help them in every way, I asked the Field-Marshal not to extend my front, as my strength was quite insufficient for such an extension. Sir John French, who had come over to see us, quite agreed and the matter was settled. I, however, sent one of my battalions to Givenchy as a support to them for a couple of days. Later on I was ordered to extend my front to include Givenchy and up to the La Bassée Road south of it. The order was of course carried out, but it was very unfortunate for us, as when, very shortly afterwards, we were heavily attacked on that front my numbers were altogether too small for the extended line, and, as I shall tell, the Indian Corps was very roughly handled and Givenchy was temporarily lost to us; it was retaken by the heroism of the 1st Manchesters of the Jalandar Brigade, and again lost, and finally only saved by the arrival of a Division of the First Army Corps which was in reserve behind the British positions.
On this date I withdrew the 9th Bhopals from the trenches at the request of their C.O. for a few days’ rest, as the battalion had been subjected to a very severe shelling and had suffered losses which necessitated a short change.
In diary of November 10 I find, “Our fellows tried their hand on a mine of sorts to-day. Half a German fell into the Bareilly Brigade trenches.” This was the beginning of mining warfare for us; though in this case the plant was only placed in a trench and fired by electricity.
Lord Roberts had been appointed Colonel-in-Chief of the Indian Corps, and we had the proud satisfaction of receiving the following telegram:
To Sir James Willcocks, Indian Expeditionary Force.—Allow me to welcome you and the Indian Expeditionary Force which has come to fight in Europe shoulder to shoulder in the cause of liberty and truth, and in upholding our great Empire. I am proud to be your Colonel-in-Chief.—Roberts.
I replied and said how rejoiced we all felt at such a message from the Chief under whose command the Indian Army had so often been led to victory.
In another telegram, to Sir John French, Lord Roberts also expressed his high appreciation of the “magnificent gallantry displayed by all ranks, British and Indian.” Our great Hero, the victor of many fights, never forgot his Indian comrades. God rest his soul!
On November 12, Lord Roberts paid us his memorable visit. On the lawns, now deep in slush, in front of the Château of Hinges and whilst the roar of the guns shook the windows of the building, we drew up to receive the great Field-Marshal. The Indian Corps was alone represented, and that only by the Headquarters Staff and such other officers and men as were not on duty in the trenches. Facing the entrance door was drawn up a Guard of Honour of all available men, British and Indian. It was a mixed body, but it was all I could muster at short notice; amongst them, however, were two Indian officers who knew Lord Roberts personally, and there was not a man in that small gathering who did not know the name and the fame of India’s greatest “Jangi Lat” (War Lord).
There are times in life, fortunately rare, when one feels as if some sad moment was approaching and you cannot assign any reason for it. This was one; the solemnity of it was in any case visible, for it was a great occasion in itself for the Indian Army to have with it in the heart of France the aged soldier who had long been its Idol; but there was some other indefinable feeling, and most of us felt it, that whatever might come this was to be the very last meeting in the Field of War of the Army of India and its beloved Chief. We all knew that it was the lion-heart of this great man which had determined him to come across the sea just once more, and by his presence encourage the troops of which he was the Chief in name and fact, and then, having done his Duty, which was his life’s watchword, to return to England and have us in his keeping.
As the motor-car pulled up our Colonel-in-Chief stepped out, still with that brisk step so well remembered by all who had ever served with him, and we felt, as Tennyson has sung of another warrior:
It was a parade, but it was a duty every man present considered his greatest privilege and honour to have attended; and who would have missed it?
After shaking hands with every officer, Lord Roberts inspected the Guard, saying a word, with that charm he possessed, to each British and Indian officer and old soldier; and finally giving a military salute entered his car, bidding me also in, and we moved off to Headquarters of the Meerut and Lahore Divisions.
During his short visit the sky was clear but a biting cold wind chilled us all, and no doubt this, combined with his insistence in pulling up and alighting at each spot where representatives of every Indian battalion and Cavalry regiment of the Corps (straight from the trenches) were collected along the route, helped to bring on the fatal illness which immediately followed.
During the motor journey I was able to give him an account of our doings and to answer numerous questions he put to me. I also had the great benefit of his advice on some important disciplinary points, on which I would have consulted no man except him, and on which no one else could have formed so sound and just an opinion.
At Locon he stopped about half an hour, talking to General Anderson and his Staff and inspecting the few troops present. His pleasure was manifest when he met his old comrade Sir Partab Singh and also the Maharaja of Bikanir and the young Prince of Jodhpore and others from India. Here he addressed the troops in a few words, bidding us do our duty and saying he would keenly follow our fortunes. His last words were, “The fame of your doings will live for ever in India.”
Passing on to the Headquarters of the Lahore Division, he saw General Watkis and his Staff drawn up in the Square at Estaires, and spoke for some time to an Indian officer who had served with him. He also saw General Wadeson and officers and men of the Secunderabad Cavalry Brigade.
Not the least touching part of his visit was the fact that he was followed by another car, in which travelled one of his daughters, the guardian angel of his last hours. The Indian officer to whom he had just spoken said after he had left, “Sahib, the English are a great race. Brave men, brave women. Peace or war they always hold fast together. The victory is already yours.”
As I gave him my last salute and the hurrahs of the troops ceased, I felt the Indian Corps had a friend who was the lodestar which would guide us on our path of duty and that his visit had increased our strength. And only two days later the great Field-Marshal passed away. An honoured guard of Indian soldiers watched over the house where rested his body, and England had lost one of her most precious possessions and the Army of India its truest friend.
Most of the Indian Princes and Chiefs in France crossed to England and attended the funeral, and, to show how heartfelt was the sorrow of our Allies, I received letters the very next day from General de Maud’huy, commanding the Xth Army, and General Maistre, commanding the XXIst Corps d’Armée, who were on our right, deploring the great loss our country, and more especially the Indian Corps, had suffered.
He will not be forgotten “while memory holds a seat in this distracted globe.”
I was informed at this time that it was now possible to shorten the line held by the Corps. I was naturally pleased when the change was carried out on the night of 15th-16th November. The 8th British Division relieved the two left brigades of the Corps, and our right then rested on Givenchy and our left on the La Bassée-Estaires Road. On the 11th November Captain H. Wicks, 1st Seaforth Highlanders, sent out a small party of his battalion under command of Lieut. D. MacKenzie to destroy three houses in his front. My chief recollection of this affair is, that one of the party in describing it said when they got within ten yards of the centre house the Germans shouted, “Allenmechty English,” and bolted. It was told as if it was a huge joke, and somehow the story has always been one I laugh over. The party split up and entered all three houses, and were proceeding to set them on fire with the help of straw when the Huns attacked and drove them out, and from the upper story of one a machine-gun suddenly began to spit lead. The Germans had been surprised, but now it was the turn of our men. Covered by our own fire from the trenches the party got back without a scratch. Even such minor skirmishes had their lessons. In this case it was found that the Boches lived in cellars by day; and instead of wasting lives the houses were demolished by shells shortly afterwards.
During the night of 11th-12th November the Germans sapped up and dug a short parallel within thirty-five yards of the left trenches of the Connaught Rangers, and the next night the Irishmen attacked this new trench; but the enemy anticipated the attack, which failed, and at dawn, elated with his success, launched a counter-attack. This was carried out with determination and succeeded in penetrating our trenches and temporarily capturing a machine-gun.
But this triumph was short-lived as the Connaughts immediately rushed the lost position, recaptured the gun, bayoneting such Germans as were found, and turned the Maxim on to the remainder. A German officer showed great bravery on this occasion; he remained to the last at one end of a trench and picked off three or four men with a rifle before he would retire, and then managed to escape. Twenty of the enemy lay dead on or near our parapet and two prisoners were taken. We suffered only eight casualties, amongst them three men killed and one officer wounded, Lieut. E. Morris.
The Irishmen did not mean to allow the enemy to hold on to his new parallel, and Colonel Ravenshaw arranged an assault for midnight, 14th November, when sixty men under Lieut. A. G. Moutray silently rushed the trench, supported by the cross-fire of two machine-guns. A few Germans were in occupation, of whom Moutray shot two himself. Our casualties numbered only five men. Sergt. Brown was commended for good work, and the parallel ceased to trouble us.
Daily small encounters were now the rule, with the more important of which alone I shall deal. On 13th November General Keary, commanding the Garhwal Brigade, ordered an attack on some German trenches which had previously been assaulted but had reverted to the enemy. Lieut.-Colonel W. R. Brakspear, 2/3rd Gurkhas, with six platoons of his own corps, and about sixty men of the 2/39th Garhwalis under Major Taylor, who had been in the previous attack on the same trench, carried out the assault.
The troops to fill in the trench when captured were drawn from No. 4 Company Sappers and Miners and 2/3rd Gurkhas. The assault was made at 9 P.M., but was at once shattered on its left and centre, and only a party on the right succeeded in reaching the enemy trenches, where Lieut. H. F. McSwiney and his Gurkhas quickly accounted for twenty-five Huns and made four prisoners. Brakspear, who had by this time himself come up, worked along the trench to his left until held up by a party of Germans behind a traverse. McSwiney tried to rush the enemy by climbing the parapet but was severely wounded in the gallant attempt.
Seeing that further help was necessary if the small party were to drive them from their comparatively safe position, Brakspear himself went back at considerable risk through a hot fire and, having organised a relief, together with Major E. G. Drummond advanced towards his goal; but the fire was very heavy and made doubly destructive by a searchlight which played incessantly on our men. Drummond was killed as he left his own trench; the advance, however, continued until a number of high-explosive shells suddenly fell in succession all round the attackers, disjointing their efforts and scattering all but a mere handful who, with Brakspear, managed to regain their trench.
Meantime the position opposite to the traverse was being splendidly maintained by Subadar Dalkesar Gurung, but it was now past midnight and time to return, as that hour had been fixed for the covering Artillery fire to help our retirement, and this was already beginning. Finding that no further object was to be gained by remaining, McSwiney and his party moved back, but finding that Captain R. D. Alexander, who had been severely wounded near the traverse, had not been brought in, as he refused to be moved before the other wounded, McSwiney and his Subadar with a few men went back to search for him, but finding no traces had once more sorrowfully to retire, and on reaching our trenches, drenched in blood, McSwiney fell in a swoon.
Glorious fellows! Which was the braver, the gallant Captain who refused to be moved lest one of his men might be left in the hands of the enemy; or the equally gallant Subadar who, facing almost certain death, returned, severely wounded as he was, to try and rescue his comrade? Fine deeds, performed in company, by men of different birth, but as Thomas Moore sings:
The object of this attack was to destroy the trenches; it was not achieved, as it did not come as a surprise to the enemy, and once launched our men were heavily handicapped by the German searchlight, an apparatus with which we were of course unprovided. Also the Huns had considerably improved and re-aligned their trench by throwing back a flank since our last assault on it and our scouts had not reported any changes. Another cause was that some men in their excitement started their rush with cheers contrary to orders. The prisoners also declared that our shells were not exploding. But the best lesson learned from this attack was, that it is easy enough to capture a small portion of a trench; it is a very different matter to hold on to it, unless ample provision has been made beforehand to ensure success. We were still learning in those early days of the war.
Colonel Brakspear behaved with great coolness, always being in the place of greatest danger. Drummond also of the 3rd Gurkhas only arrived that day, and I had wished him luck as he started for the trenches. McSwiney (son of a very old friend) received the Military Cross for his gallantry. Captain H. Bennett was missing.
The following were brought to notice by the Division: Subadar Dalkesar Gurung, Havildar Bahadur Thapa, Naik Rupdhan Dun, Lance-Naik Kabiram Thapa, Rifleman Ganpati Thapa, all of the 3rd Gurkhas; and Lance-Naik Jaman Singh Khatri, Rifleman Gajbir Bisht, and Ran Bahadur Saki, of the 1/9th Gurkhas.
The Gurkhas had fifty-seven other casualties, including two Indian officers.
Major Taylor, who had twice attempted the attack of this same trench, and Captain A. W. Robertson-Glasgow, both of the 2/39th Garhwalis, were missing, and the remaining losses of this battalion amounted to thirty-eight.
The 3rd Gurkhas were raised as far back as 1815, so the regiment was celebrating its 100th year of existence. Its name had undergone many changes, but in its ranks was the same breed as had originally taken service with the British Government after the fall of Malaun and Kumaon. In 1891 a second battalion was added, and in 1908 the present title of the 3rd Queen Alexandra’s Own Gurkha Rifles was conferred on the regiment. They possess seven battle honours, from Delhi (1858) to Tirah and the Punjab Frontiers. At the outbreak of war, the 2nd battalion, with the Indian Corps, was commanded by Lieut.-Colonel V. A. Ormsby, who was later promoted to a Companionship of the Bath.
The Lahore Division had borne the first brunt of the fighting in France, and now almost daily it was the turn of the sister Division to be employed in some scrap or raid. No one who reads the records of the Corps during its first two months in France can fail to be struck by the energy and initiative of the Divisional Commanders, Brigadiers, and C.O.’s of units; if it was not in attack, it was in defence of our own trenches; but, one or other, the Corps was as incessantly employed as any in Flanders. The numbers were being fast reduced and there were no daily ships bringing the sorely needed reinforcements; whilst that invaluable man, the British officer, was irreplaceable.
On the night of the 16th November the 6th Jat Light Infantry had their first experience of carrying out an attack on German trenches. Associated with them in this well-conceived scheme was half of No. 3 Company Sappers and Miners. The party consisted of 125 rifles of the Jats under command of Major P. H. Dundas and sixty Sappers under Captain E. H. Kelly, R.E., and I cannot do better than epitomise the report of these two officers, written with a modesty that makes them very readable.
The Jat report states that they were ordered by the C.O. to advance at 9 P.M. between two saps, made by the enemy towards the 107th Pioneers and 4th Cavalry, and to hold the portion of the German trench between these saps till 9.45 P.M., by which time the Pioneers would have reconstructed their trench (which had been partially destroyed by shell-fire), and the Sappers and Miners filled in the saps. Instructions were also given re the part to be played by our heavy and field guns. The Infantry were extended, and advanced with orders not to fire until the objective was reached. As they cleared the line of their own wire, the German saps on both flanks opened a heavy fire and some casualties resulted. At sixty yards they crossed a deep drain, and at 100 yards entered a trench loopholed to the front and rear. (Ominous!) This trench was unoccupied, but Germans were seen retiring. The mouth of one sap was closed and an advance with the bayonet began, so as to protect the Sappers who had begun work. Meantime the enemy who held the trench in prolongation of the portion captured by the Jats opened a heavy but ineffective fire on our men. The Jats replied vigorously, being rewarded by much groaning and yells proceeding from the Hun trench. The same success attended our men holding the right sap and a prisoner was captured. Lieut. Liptrott, who was on the left, also butted against the enemy. Before 10 P.M. our own guns and rifles in rear began to become troublesome, and the Jats, very well handled, began their prearranged return, a party moving along the top of the saps to finish off any enemy bottled up in them. Under a considerable fire from both flanks the retirement was coolly carried out, one of the Company officers being killed and another wounded, whilst in among the dead was a frightened German prisoner; he clung to Major Dundas rather than risk his skin in charge of what he deemed to be the terrible sepoys. The casualties were reported as two Indian officers and sixteen men wounded; and the only other Indian officer and ten men were missing and certainly killed. Then followed a list of booty taken.
The Sappers and Miners under Captain Kelly and Lieut. E. O. Wheeler advanced towards both saps. The left sap was full of Germans, who promptly ran. A large portion of the trench was filled in and Wheeler then retired, bringing with him some German grenades and other articles left behind by them. Kelly with the right party found Germans retiring, and a few of them were bayoneted. The traverses were then destroyed and booty collected before the time for retiring. The total losses of the Sappers consisted of only three killed and one wounded.
This ended a small enterprise which has been given in full as a sample of how things should be done, and the manner in which our Indian troops worked in those days, whilst the ranks still contained some of the fully trained men with which the Corps arrived in France.
Major Dundas received the D.S.O. and Kelly the Military Cross. Liptrott was unfortunately killed shortly afterwards. The following were brought to notice for good work: Jemadar Abdul Aziz and Colour-Havildar Chagatta, both of them Sappers. The latter was awarded the I.D.S.M., being already in possession of the Indian Order of Merit. I knew this fine Indian soldier well. The Jemadar received the same decoration.
In the 6th Jats Havildar Jailal received the I.O.M., and the following won honourable mention: Jemadar Incha Ram, who, although seriously wounded, continued with the attack; Havildar Badlu, also seriously wounded; Sepoy Risal, and lastly four gallant fellows who stayed till it was almost too late searching for the body of their Indian officer.
The 6th Jats were originally raised in 1803, and, like other regiments of the Bengal Army, had owned various names and numbers. In 1903 it received its present designation, and is composed of eight companies of Jats. Its colours bear, amongst others, such varied names as Ghazni and Kabul 1842, Maharajpore, Sobraon, Afghanistan, and China.
Lieut.-Colonel H. J. Roche was in command when the war began. He was later given the C.B., and his battalion have good reason to be proud of the part they played.
During the month of November the weather was such as to test severely the stamina of the Indians. Cold and wet accompanied frequently by biting winds is a plain definition of the climatic conditions during the first two weeks; then snow began and by the 20th the whole country was clothed in a deep mantle. In the midst of the sea of mud, with scant bedding for so bitter a climate, lying in foul and insanitary trenches, often frozen hard, practically underground dwelt in thousands men, to most of whom ice and snow were unknown, their only knowledge of it being the distant views some had obtained of the mighty Himalayas, peopled with a myriad gods, towering like Titan sentinels over their plains and valleys. Imagine their feelings when now they found themselves in their embrace, faced by every devilish device of murderous science, and all from a sense of duty to an alien race. It is a subject for thought. It is a great triumph of fellowship for the British race. A Gurkha officer whom I asked one day what he thought of it all replied: “What can I say? We live in a well and look up at God’s sky by day, and at German flares by night, but we are going to win.”
The subterfuges employed by the Indians were at times quite amusing, though not perhaps very much so for the actors. A sepoy, native of Rustam, was out on patrol duty in “No Man’s Land” when a German searchlight caught and exposed him in a semi-kneeling position, and the enemy only fifty yards distant. He had probably in his day taken part in uninvited nocturnal visits but not in quite similar circumstances; however, his native wit came to his rescue, and immediately rising up he stood still and saluted his foes. Surprised by the apparition, the Huns ceased firing and the Indian, now salaaming, moved on and entered their trench.
In the German lines facing the Indian Corps were one or two scoundrels from India, types of traitors which are common to all countries, who, finding Hindustan too hot for them, and preferring treachery to the noose which awaited them if they returned, had taken service with the Germans in pre-war days. What use was made of them it is difficult to say, but probably such leaflets as were dropped over our lines from aeroplanes were their production, as well as an occasional call from their trenches shouted in Hindustani advising our men to desert and join the generous Huns.
Be this as it may, our sepoy, seeing he must now feign hatred of us or go under, by signs and gestures soon assured his captors that his one object in life was to cut the throats of the English, and to give emphasis to his bloodthirsty proclivities he passed his hand across his throat, repeating with angry looks, “English, English.” This was enough to at once bring him a liberal supply of rations and other trench luxuries. His next business was to discover some means of escape, and he managed by counting on his fingers and saying, “Beimān” (unfaithful) whilst pointing to our trenches, to impress his would-be friends that other scoundrels as black as he were willing to desert. Coffee followed this interesting bit of news, and after much palavering the sepoy was allowed to leave on his mission. Creeping carefully he rejoined his battalion and the Huns saw him no more.
All ranks felt the bitter cold and there were a large number of frost-bites and trench feet as they were called, but taken all round the Indian troops stood it far better than I had ever believed possible. A factor in their health was the extraordinarily good arrangements for giving the men baths and providing them with hot water. Once out of the trenches (such occasions were rare in those times) a man was certain to get a hot tub of sorts. All kinds of contrivances were gradually furnished by Government; heaters, clothes driers, fumigators, travelling boilers were sent out by kind friends and by the “Indian Soldiers’ Fund.”
The Indian with water of any kind is like a child by the sea, he must at once dabble in it. Now the sea is pure, but our sepoy has a bad habit of entirely ignoring all sanitary laws where his pani (water) is concerned; so long as it is water he will drink from any pool or wash in any gutter, and much as I admire and like him, I have in my time been obliged to inflict very severe punishments to lead and keep him in the path of sanitation. Hence when he found clean hot water was as easily procured as muddy cold water, he naturally chose the former.
Riding out one day I saw a shower of paper descending earthwards evidently dropped from an aeroplane. They were leaflets printed in Hindi calling on our Indian soldiers to rise against the British. Comically enough the call was headed, “True information”! thereby proving the Germans can sometimes perpetrate a joke. Here is the text:
The Sheik Ul Islam has proclaimed a Jihad (Holy War) on the Id (a festival day) at Mecca against the British, Russians, and French. The Sultan of Turkey has started a war against the same oppressive people, and he has been joined by the King of Afghanistan.
But German humour is at best singular. Here was an incitement to Hindus and Mahomedans alike to revolt, and yet only Mahomedans are named, and to make it more ridiculous the language was Hindi, or the language of Hindus alone. I took a copy to the trenches of one regiment of each class and to one or two mixed Corps of both and read them out. The message was greeted with loud laughter, and one humorous Punjabi Musalman shouted out, “We now understand what ‘Made in Germany’ means!”
On the 19th of November Prince Arthur of Connaught visited our Headquarters, and I took him round the billets of the Secunderabad Cavalry Brigade. He was much pleased with all he saw, and the Jodhpore Lancers drawn up near a farmhouse looked weird, coated with snow, a thing none of them had ever touched before.
On the 20th November I was the guest of General de Maud’huy commanding the Xth French Army at St. Pol. I always repeat that I have never served with finer soldiers than the French, nor known better Generals and Staffs than those of our great Allies. The Headquarters Staff were located in the most ordinary house in the main street, but the general order that prevailed all round showed the perfection to which a Command Headquarters can be brought. It was certainly far simpler than anything in our own Army. The General kindly furnished me with a very large scale map of the whole Western Front, giving all details of the German Corps from Nieuport to the Swiss Frontier. An ordinary Corps commander was not allowed such luxuries with us. I still hear from him, and shall certainly make a point of again going to see him wherever he may be.
The next day H.R.H. the Prince of Wales honoured the Corps by coming round and seeing all troops not in the trenches. The Indians were specially delighted and cheered lustily. Just after he left I was motoring to our Reserves to watch some newly manufactured trench mortars fired, when I saw a new German Taube come down; it was the first in our lines and the excitement of the sepoys was worth watching. The two officers were taken prisoners and I saw them later at my Headquarters.
Regarding the trench mortars mentioned above, this first attempt was most successful. The Indian Sappers and Miners soon had the matter in hand and before long we were using them with good results. Fancy in this great war mortars made at first of wood and cast iron being employed and considered a great adjunct to our means of defence. The old British Army and the Indian Corps had to learn many a lesson before the days of 15-inch guns and unlimited ammunition.
Every effort was made to alleviate the trials of the men in the trenches. Braziers and other roughly constructed devices were manufactured by our ubiquitous Sappers. Earthen vessels filled with charcoal, when procurable, were distributed along the trenches; extra socks were issued and straw was rolled under the puttees. A percentage of gum boots were sent out by the “Indian Soldiers’ Fund,” and woollen gloves were freely supplied. General Headquarters did all they could to help us, and the Medical Officers and unit commanders were indefatigable in their labours to keep the men fit during the severe ordeal of that ghastly winter.
In this war, when of necessity the Armies lay for so long opposite to one another in the same positions, the public naturally associated the Infantry soldier with the greatest hardships which had to be borne. He lived in the trenches, he held the front line when attacked, or led the assault when in advance, but behind him was the man with the big guns. This latter had some advantages over his Infantry comrade: he was farther from the rifle and machine-gun, and out of the range of the grenade and trench mortar, but without him no front line could have been held for an hour and no attack would ever have been possible.
Moreover, he was the target most sought by the enemy; the prying aeroplane could easily trace the trenches, but its chief prey was the battery in rear, and once found it very soon received the concentrated attention of the hostile guns. The men in front knew all this well. They loved their field guns, their constant companions and always the nearest to them. The howitzers were their closest allies when the Hun trench had to be searched and knocked about; the biggest pieces behind them were the loyal parents who closely supported them when necessity arose, and watching over all farthest back were the monsters in those days still in a state of manufacture, affectionately spoken of in later times as Grandmothers.
And so the gunners, like those farther forward, took their full, and often more than full, share of the daily work. They lived in great discomfort, for you cannot be constantly moving guns in concealed positions; the labour is vast, and so long as you are undiscovered so much the better to remain there. Hence when the pits and dug-outs filled with water, they just made the best of it, and the confidence inspired by these splendid soldiers and their guns was something they could not help realising, however modest.
The Indians, even more than their British comrades, put implicit faith in the Artillery. So long as Jack Sepoy could hear the moan or the roar of the missiles from his beloved guns speeding overhead towards the enemy lines he rested assured that come what might all was well.