Above The Heads Of The Moving Masses
Shells Began To Burst, Dotting The Air With Smoke-Balls And The Ground
With Bodies.
But a nearer tragedy impended.
The 'White Flags' were nearly
over the crest. In another minute they would become visible to the
batteries. Did they realise what would come to meet them? They were in
a dense mass, 2,800 yards from the 32nd Field Battery and the gunboats.
The ranges were known. It was a matter of machinery. The more distant
slaughter passed unnoticed, as the mind was fascinated by the approaching
horror. In a few seconds swift destruction would rush on these brave men.
They topped the crest and drew out into full view of the whole army.
Their white banners made them conspicuous above all. As they saw the camp
of their enemies, they discharged their rifles with a great roar of
musketry and quickened their pace. For a moment the white flags advanced
in regular order, and the whole division crossed the crest and were exposed.
Forthwith the gunboats, the 32nd British Field Battery, and other guns
from the zeriba opened on them. About twenty shells struck them
in the first minute. Some burst high in the air, others exactly in their
faces. Others, again, plunged into the sand and, exploding, dashed clouds
of red dust, splinters, and bullets amid their ranks. The white banners
toppled over in all directions. Yet they rose again immediately, as other
men pressed forward to die for the Mahdi's sacred cause and in the
defence of the successor of the True Prophet. It was a terrible sight,
for as yet they had not hurt us at all, and it seemed an unfair advantage
to strike thus cruelly when they could not reply. Under the influence
of the shells the mass of the 'White Flags' dissolved into thin lines of
spearmen and skirmishers, and came on in altered formation and diminished
numbers, but with unabated enthusiasm. And now, the whole attack being
thoroughly exposed, it became the duty of the cavalry to clear the front
as quickly as possible, and leave the further conduct of the debate
to the infantry and the Maxim guns. All the patrols trotted or cantered
back to their squadrons, and the regiment retired swiftly into the zeriba,
while the shells from the gunboats screamed overhead and the whole length
of the position began to burst into flame and smoke. Nor was it long
before the tremendous banging of the artillery was swollen
by the roar of musketry.
Taking advantage of the shelter of the river-bank, the cavalry dismounted;
we watered our horses, waited, and wondered what was happening. And every
moment the tumult grew louder and more intense, until even the flickering
stutter of the Maxims could scarcely be heard above the continuous din.
Eighty yards away, and perhaps twenty feet above us, the 32nd Field Battery
was in action. The nimble figures of the gunners darted about as they
busied themselves in their complicated process of destruction. The officers,
some standing on biscuit-boxes, peered through their glasses and studied
the effect. Of this I had one glimpse. Eight hundred yards away a ragged
line of men were coming on desperately, struggling forward in the face
of the pitiless fire - white banners tossing and collapsing; white figures
subsiding in dozens to the ground; little white puffs from their rifles,
larger white puffs spreading in a row all along their front from the
bursting shrapnel.
The infantry fired steadily and stolidly, without hurry or excitement,
for the enemy were far away and the officers careful. Besides, the soldiers
were interested in the work and took great pains. But presently the mere
physical act became tedious. The tiny figures seen over the slide of the
backsight seemed a little larger, but also fewer at each successive volley.
The rifles grew hot - so hot that they had to be changed for those of the
reserve companies. The Maxim guns exhausted all the water in their jackets,
and several had to be refreshed from the water-bottles of the Cameron
Highlanders before they could go on with their deadly work. The empty
cartridge-cases, tinkling to the ground, formed a small but growing heap
beside each man. And all the time out on the plain on the other side
bullets were shearing through flesh, smashing and splintering bone;
blood spouted from terrible wounds; valiant men were struggling on through
a hell of whistling metal, exploding shells, and spurting dust - suffering,
despairing, dying. Such was the first phase of the battle of Omdurman.
The Khalifa's plan of attack appears to have been complex and ingenious.
It was, however, based on an extraordinary miscalculation of the power of
modern weapons; with the exception of this cardinal error, it is not
necessary to criticise it. He first ordered about 15,000 men, drawn chiefly
from the army of Osman Sheikh-ed-Din and placed under the command of Osman
Azrak, to deliver a frontal attack. He himself waited with an equal force
near Surgham Hill to watch the result. If it succeeded, he would move
forward with his bodyguard, the flower of the Arab army, and complete the
victory. If it failed, there was yet another chance. The Dervishes who were
first launched against the zeriba, although very brave men, were not by any
means his best or most reliable troops. Their destruction might be a
heavy loss, but it would not end the struggle. While the attack was
proceeding, the valiant left, consisting of the rest of the army of Osman
Sheikh-ed-Din, might move unnoticed to the northern flank and curve round
on to the front of the zeriba held by the Egyptian brigade. Ali-Wad-Helu
was meanwhile to march to the Kerreri Hills, and remain out of range and,
if possible, out of sight among them. Should the frontal and flank attacks
be unhappily repulsed, the 'enemies of God,' exulting in their easy victory
over the faithful, would leave their strong place and march to the capture
and sack of the city.
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