Time Commander (The First Admiral Series) (40 page)

Where in heaven’s name were those other seven or eight thousand Zulus?
Billy asked himself.

Once again, Billy asked himself what he would do in the situation. Once more, his eyes were drawn to the two deep dongas on the flank of the position.

If I was the Zulu commander, and had warriors in those dongas
, Billy speculated,
I would set up a diversion to draw their attention and then attack from the flanks.

But, no
, Billy corrected himself,
they still have six or seven hundred yards to run to get the barricade; they’d be shot to pieces. The alternative would be to try to storm the barricade with the frontal assault, and, when they reached the hand-to-hand, bring the warriors out of the dongas to support the hand-to-hand without them having been shot to pieces by the volleys and cannon.

“
That’s it,” Billy said, “that has to be it.”

Sweeping the field glasses over the two dongas once again, Billy saw no heads or any signs of movement, but something told him that the lost Zulus had to be there.

They had managed to slip twelve or so thousand warriors down to a stepping off point. There was no reason why the others couldn’t be spread out along the dongas; lying in wait.

On the north wall, nothing was moving. The sentries were still at their posts, and appeared to be undisturbed by any potential threats from the area of the first attack.

“Number ones! FIRE!” Major Pulleine ordered.

There followed a volley from one third of the riflemen in the rear rank of the south wall that managed to overwhelm the ragged firing of the soldiers carrying out the independent fire.

“Twos and threes! FIRE !”

A larger and sharper volley blasted out through the lingering smoke of the first volley.

Out on the battlefield, Billy was delighted to see dozens of Zulus rising to their feet and then bowled over like ten-pins as the second volley struck home. Looking through his field glasses, Billy could see that the Zulus approaching from the east had just passed the three hundred yard markers, when suddenly from below the edges of the donga itself, more warriors began to emerge.

“
I knew it...I knew it!” Billy focussed on the figures that were beginning to struggle over the steep-sided stream beds. “East wall, independent fire! Knock down those Zulus!”

His instinct had proven correct, and now the remaining Zulu warriors were being committed to the battle. They had been hiding out in the donga after all.

As the riflemen on the east wall started to open up a ragged but brisk fire, Billy could see Zulus emerging from the donga all the way up to beyond the British north wall.

“
My God, you are clever.” Billy lowered the field glasses, astonished at the tact of his Zulu counterpart.

It was a stroke of pure genius in deploying his forces. The “Horns of the Buffalo” from the south would distract and absorb the firepower of the British position, whilst more of his warriors lay under cover on the enemy’s flank. With almost seven hundred yards to cover to the British lines, the Zulu commander knew that his warriors would be chopped to ruins by the British volleys if he threw in a simultaneous attack. Instead, he had deployed a phased attack. The “Chest” from the south would absorb the losses, the traditional Zulu tactic. With about three or four hundred yards for the “Chest” to go, the Zulu commander had let loose his remaining warriors from the eastern donga. The warriors from the south would reach the British position, and envelop it. This would allow the warriors from the dongas to approach the final few hundred yards virtually unchallenged by the British rifles. The warriors from the donga would have to run a gauntlet of maybe three or four hundred yards before the British were pre-occupied with the hand-to-hand combat in front of the barricade.

Sheer genius
, Billy had to acknowledge, and it would make the defence of this position all the more difficult. The first wave from the south was very likely to surround the position, and the additional warriors from the dongas would add further weight to that assault.

“
Shall we open fire, sir?!” a voice called from behind him.

“
Yes, Captain!” Billy got the attention of one of the redcoat company commanders. “Commence independent firing!”

Now
, Billy thought,
it’s going to come down to the cold mathematics. Could the riflemen and the cannon kill or injure enough Zulus to give them a fighting chance in the hand-to-hand?
Major Pulleine was still sending volleys streaking down from the south wall, but still the Zulus came on with the “Zulu-Zulu-Zulu-Zulu” chant that seemed to drone and buzz in Billy’s ears.

On the east wall, the riflemen were starting to take a steady toll of the Zulus emerging from the dried-up stream bed. At first, the Zulus clambered over the edge, and within seconds, were being toppled back into the donga by the British sharpshooters.

“East wall!” Billy called, “Commence volley fire!”

The redcoat captain in charge of the west wall, a man by the name of Pope, waved his acknowledgement of the order. A few seconds later, the first of the volleys slashed downrange to start systematically cutting down the attackers.

Switching his attention to the western wall, the Zulus were still emerging, but in far fewer numbers than on the eastern wall.

Maybe this is simply a diversion
, Billy considered, as he watched a young warrior in a simple black loincloth, and a black shield, thrown back down into the donga he had just clambered out of.

There certainly appeared to be far fewer warriors to the west, but then again, the “Horn” of the western attack hadn’t made quite as much progress as their eastern brothers. To the south, Major Pulleine was still pouring volleys and cannon fire into the “Chest” of the Zulu attack, which had now come within two hundred yards of the British position. From the sound of the cannon fire, Major Smith was now double-shotting the artillery. Regardless of their overwhelming firepower, the Zulus still kept coming on. The tactic of throwing themselves flat to the ground just before the British volley had been abandoned. The Zulus were now close enough to realise that they had a better chance of surviving if they just dashed forward and got into the hand-to-hand combat.

When the Zulus to the south had reached about one hundred and fifty yards, Billy called for Captain Nourse. The Natal Infantry Captain was instructed to deploy one Spear Company, each consisting of one hundred and fifty men, to each wall. There were to be two more Spear Companies in reserve. With the deployment of the Natal Infantry, Billy knew that he had four hundred and fifty men on each wall. The Natal Infantry would each provide support for two riflemen, or so Billy planned.

The Natal Infantrymen scampered to their allotted positions on each wall and stood ready behind the riflemen. From their expressions, Billy could see that the Natal Infantrymen were eager to get into the fight. The all-important question was, would his gamble about spears and rifles be able to combine effectively to overcome the Zulu numbers? Looking to the south, Billy saw that the Zulus were within one hundred yards of the barricade. In a +scant+ few minutes, he would find out.

“West wall!” Billy called, “Commence volley fire!”

The Zulus emerging from the donga on the western wall were now sufficient in number to require the regular volley fire to thin down their numbers.

On the south wall, Billy could see the Natal Infantrymen taking their stations behind the riflemen. The Zulus were now within fifty yards of the barricade, and with no glass and nail trap to impede them, it would be a matter of less than a minute before the soldiers were engaged in the hand-to-hand. The east and west walls were now falling into the routine of the volley fire, whilst on the south wall, the volleys had now reached a fever pitch in their tempo and regularity.

On the edges of the south wall, the two cannon roared for the last time. Having triple-shotted both guns, the two artillery pieces had been blown from their carriages. Like huge shotguns, the cannon had blasted an inferno of shot at the approaching Zulus.

However, with a huge powder charge to drive the three case shots into the enemy, the recoil had toppled the two guns backwards. This had thrown the metal barrels clear of the carriages designed to hold them. With the guns wrecked, the artillerymen retreated back onto the position and started to break out the rocket warheads that had been taken from their launchers to provide the guns with powder.

The rocket warheads were now to be used as hand grenades, and the artillerymen would have the job of lighting the warhead fuses before heaving them over the barricade and into the Zulu attackers.

“Fire!” The horde of attacking Zulus vanished in a great blanket of white smoke and the roar of rifles.

Behind the smoke, several hundred Zulu warriors were scythed down and mutilated by the rifle bullets. The British soldiers, shielded from the horror of the final volley, nervously held out their bayonet-tipped rifles, ready for the horde to smash down on them like an avenging tidal wave.

Like black, hell-bound spectres, the Zulu warriors swept out of the smoke and threw themselves at the British line. In a few moments, they hit the front face of the barricaded square and began to envelop the flanking faces like a huge oil slick. The Zulus struggling to get out of the dongas on the square flanks would now get the respite they needed to make it over and join their comrades in the hand-to-hand. This would lead to the entire square being surrounded.

Quietly, Billy Caudwell cursed the situation; he had hoped that the British rifle fire would thin down the Zulu ranks for a few more minutes before they began to engage in hand-to-hand combat. The metal of the Zulu assegais clashed and clattered against the steel of the British bayonets, which was interspersed with rifle shots, the shouts of men in battle, and the screams of men in pain. The chant of “Zulu-Zulu-Zulu-Zulu” underpinned the hellish cacophony of the battle.

As the Zulus raced up to the barricade, the Natal Infantry officers and NCOs took their Spear Companies forward. Screaming their tribal war cries, the Natal Infantrymen plunged into the hand-to-hand with their long spears and shields. The Zulus, expecting to deal with bayonet-tipped rifles, found themselves facing the longer Natal Infantry spears that jabbed and lunged at them from across the barricade. The Natal Infantrymen, looking to spill Zulu blood, jabbed, lunged, and gouged at the targets in front of them. The Zulus, having dashed up from the dongas, now found themselves blocked by the barricade in front of them With the front rank of their attack being blocked, the warriors behind them found that their comrades in front of them were delaying their progress.

The Zulus, five or six deep in some places, were now struggling to make any progress against the resolute defenders. This was where Billy hoped that the combination of rifle and spear behind the barricade would pay dividends. With the first Zulus already falling to the gouging and jabbing spears, Billy felt more confident that his strategy would pay off. However, the Zulus with spears of their own were starting to claim lives on the British side of the barricade. At first, it had been throwing spears that had arched over the Zulu front line from the rear ranks.

A great many had missed their targets, but some had managed to find the chests, heads and arms of the red-coated or Natal Infantry defenders. Within a few minutes, the first of the casualties were tumbling back from the barricade, with Zulu throwing spears embedded in their bodies.

Whilst looking at the west wall, Billy saw one redcoat tumble backwards from the barricade as if he had been pole-axed. With his arms outstretched, the redcoat fell with a Zulu throwing spear lodged in his chest. The sergeant, standing behind the line, quickly stripped the dead redcoat of his rifle and ammunition, and passed the bullets to other riflemen on the line. The line was holding, but bodies were starting to fall or stumble back from the hand-to-hand. It was now time for Billy to get involved.

Trotting forwards, Billy quickly made his way to the south wall. This was where he expected the fighting to be heaviest, and where the part of his mind that was Teg Portan told him that he should be. It was no place for the faint-hearted, and Billy knew that he had to take his share of the hand-to-hand battle. Drawing the heavy Pryce revolver from the holster at his hip, Billy moved towards the battle line. Already, bodies littered the area behind the barricade. The bandsmen were doing their best to drag away the wounded, whilst the dead were left where they fell. Pushing into the battle line with his pistol ready, Billy got his first sight of the enemy in the hand-to-hand combat.

Meanwhile, the Zulus on the other side of the barricade were jabbing and thrusting with both long and short spears at the redcoats and Natal Infantry. Doing their best to avoid the bayonets and spears from the British side, many Zulus in the front line were holding up their shields to fend off the blows. This, however, presented a problem for many, in that the shields of their comrades were blocking their own attempts to stab at the British soldiers. Because of this, Zulus in the second and third lines were having more success trying to jab and thrust at the British.

The British line, however, was holding up; mainly thanks to the Natal Infantry, who with their own tribal shields were holding back many of the thrusts and jabs that would have been aimed at the riflemen. The Zulu, with their short-stabbing assegai, could thrust and jab at the redcoats with ease. If the redcoat held his nerve, he soon found out that his bayonet-tipped rifles had a better reach than the Zulu spears. Checking his pistol one more time, Billy pushed his way to the front of the battle line, between a redcoat and a Natal Infantryman carrying a brown shield. For Billy, looking over the south wall, it seemed as if everything moved in slow motion. There was a strange, almost savage, clarity in everything he saw, heard and felt, all of which he had never experienced in any other situation except combat.