I never
heard anything like the report of these big guns of ours and the shriek
of the shells as they went on their way.
After the cannonade had been kept up for a bit, the infantry began their
advance. This was, I think, the finest performance I have seen in the
whole campaign. The Gordons did it; the Dargai battalion. They came up,
line by line, behind our ridge and lay down along with us. Then, at the
word "Advance," the front line got up and walked quietly down the slope,
and away towards the opposite hill, walking in very open order, with
gaps of about fifteen yards between the men. A moment or two would pass.
Then when the front line had gone about fifty yards, the "Advance" would
again be repeated, and another line of kilted men would lift themselves
leisurely up and walk off. So on, line behind line, they went on their
way, while we watched them, small dark figures clearly seen on the white
grass, through our glasses with a painful interest. Before they had
reached half way across, the vicious, dull report, a sort of double
"crick-crack," of the Mausers began. Our guns were raining shrapnel
along the enemy's position, shooting steady and fast to cover the
Gordons' advance; but the Boers, especially when it comes to endurance,
are dogged fellows. They see our infantry coming, and nothing will move
them till they have had their shot.
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