The one disaster of the Afghan campaign of 1878-80 was the defeat of General Burrows’ force at Maiwand by an army of 25,000 men under the leadership of Ayoub Khan himself. It had been expected that the Amir would follow a certain route on his way to Ghazni and Candahar, and Burrows had been warned to be on the look-out. That the British general failed to stay the Amir’s progress when the two armies came into conflict at Maiwand was due to the smallness of his force, which numbered less than 3000 men; to the desertion of a large number of native levies; and to the fact that the native portion of the brigade got out of hand soon after the fight had started, and impeded the British troops.

Continuing his march after this signal victory, Ayoub Khan proceeded to Candahar and commenced the siege of that city. How he was speedily followed by General Roberts and in turn defeated has been already told.

The battle of Maiwand was fought on July 27th, 1880. Early on the morning of that day Burrows’ brigade, including the 66th Regiment, “the Green Howards,” and some Royal Horse Artillery, and encumbered with a large number of camels, baggage waggons, camp followers, etc., moved out from the camp at Khushk-i-Nakhud. This position was about forty miles from Candahar. The Afghan army was to be intercepted at the village of Maiwand, eleven miles away.

Riding with the guns of the Horse Artillery that summer morning were two men, Sergeant Patrick Mullane and Gunner James Collis, who were destined to win no little glory in the somewhat inglorious fight. They were by no means the only heroes of Maiwand, for many stirring deeds were done that day; but the slaughter was terrific, and of all who earned the honour of the V.C. only these two survived.

As an example of the courage displayed by the British troops the story may be told of how, when our native infantry broke and fled before the Afghan attack, the 66th Regiment was left alone to receive the onset of the enemy. Such a small body of men could do nothing, however valiantly they fought, and very reluctantly they obeyed the order to fall back. Following up their advantage, the Afghans now pressed them more closely. In among the doomed soldiers leapt the white-robed Pathans, stabbing and slashing with their long knives until they succeeded in breaking up the men into small parties, who could be more easily cut down.

Towards the end of the day a little company of the 66th, officers and men, gathered together for a last stand in a little village some distance from Maiwand. Surrounded by a yelling horde, they fired volley after volley, but the return fire of the enemy gradually thinned their ranks. At length, so it is recorded, ten privates and one officer alone remained. Back to back stood the brave eleven, determined never to give in, for the honour of the regiment and their country. And one by one they dropped where they stood, until, it is related, but one man remained erect, facing his foes undaunted. One man against some hundreds. Then the Afghan rifles spoke out once more, and the last of that stricken remnant fell with a bullet through his heart.

But it is of Mullane and Collis that I propose to speak here, and of how they won their V.C.’s. After the fortune of the battle was decided and the stricken British brigade commenced its retreat to Candahar the Royal Horse Artillery made many gallant attempts to beat off the pursuing Afghans. Indeed, but for the masterly way in which they worked their guns, the losses on our side must have been considerably greater than they were.

Sergeant Mullane stood by his gun on one of these occasions, and after a round or two had been fired helped to limber up smartly to follow the force. As the gun moved on a driver was seen to fall. The Afghans were tearing after the fugitives at full speed, and the wounded man lay directly in their path.

Only a daring man would have ventured to turn and face that fierce oncoming crowd; but “Paddy” Mullane was that man. Racing back to where the driver lay, he lifted him up in his arms and, being a big strong fellow, quickly carried him out of the enemy’s reach. It was a narrow squeak, however; as he turned with his burden to make for his comrades, the nearest Afghans were within a few yards of him, and one or two wild shots whizzed by his ears.

The next day, while the retreat continued, Mullane performed another gallant action, which was duly noted on his Cross. Most of the troops, and particularly the wounded, suffered terribly from thirst in the glare of the sun, and it was impossible to obtain drink from the hostile villages they passed through.

At last Sergeant Mullane could stand the cries of distress no longer. “I’m off to get some water,” he announced briefly to his comrades, when they neared another village. And, doubling to the nearest houses, he managed to procure a good supply, with which he ran hastily back, while the infuriated villagers peppered him hotly. Fortunately for him their marksmanship was none too good, and not a shot struck him, though several went so close as to make him realise the risk he had run.

Of how Gunner Collis bore himself in that retreat from Maiwand we have been told in his own words, and I cannot do better than follow the account he gives. He was limber gunner, he says, in his battery, and when an Afghan shell killed four of the gunners and Sergeant Wood, only three were left to work the piece. Taking the sergeant’s place, he went on firing, but was soon almost borne down by panic-stricken fugitives, who threw themselves both under and on the gun.

On the native infantry and cavalry breaking up in confusion the guns limbered up and fell back at a gallop for some two thousand yards. Here another two rounds were fired, but again the order came to retire, for the enemy were advancing rapidly. A mounted Afghan even caught up with the gun on which Collis sat and slashed at him fiercely as he passed. The sword cut the gunner over the left eyebrow. As the Afghan wheeled and rode at him again Collis raised his carbine, and at about five yards’ range let drive. The shot struck the sowar on the chest, causing him to fall from his horse. In doing so some money rattled out of his turban, and Collis relates that Trumpeter Jones, R.H.A., jumped off his horse and picked it up.

Dusk now came fast upon the fugitives, and having stepped aside at a village to try and secure some water, Collis lost his gun. He accordingly attached himself to No. 2, sticking to it all the way to Candahar.

By the wayside, as they went along, lay many wounded. As many of these as he could the gallant gunner picked up and placed on his gun. He collected ten altogether, every one a 66th man, except a colonel whom he did not know. Presently the wounded began to beg for water, and like Mullane, Collis could not bear to hear their cries without making an effort to satisfy them.

At a village near Kokeran, the next day, he made a dash for some water, which he was successful in obtaining. Here, he records, he saw Lieutenant Maclaine, of the Royal Horse Artillery, and he was almost the last man to see him alive. The lieutenant was captured immediately afterwards, kept a close prisoner by Ayoub Khan, and eventually found lying with his throat cut outside the Amir’s tent at Candahar, after the Afghan leader’s flight.

A second journey for water becoming necessary, Collis set off again for the village. He was returning with a fresh supply when he beheld some ten or twelve of the enemy’s cavalry approaching the gun. The gun went off, and, throwing himself down in a little nullah, Collis waited until it passed by. Then, with a rifle which he had obtained from a 66th private, he opened fire upon the Afghans, in order to draw them from the gun and the wounded.

Not knowing how many were concealed in the nullah, the Afghans halted and answered his fire. They fortunately failed to hit the plucky gunner, but from his vantage he scored heavily against them, killing two men and a horse. From a distance of three hundred yards, however, they came pretty close to him, and he must have been discovered had not General Nuttall arrived on the scene with some native cavalry and made them turn tail.

“You’re a gallant young man,” said the General. “What is your name?”

“Gunner Collis, sir, of E. of B., R.H.A.,” answered the gunner in business-like fashion, and the details were promptly noted in the General’s pocket-book.

Then Collis hastened after his gun, which he caught up with after a five hundred yards’ chase, and after running the gauntlet of the enemy’s fire for several miles farther, went safely in with it into Candahar. He arrived there at seven in the evening, having been marching for a whole night and day since the battle.

There is yet another brave act to be recorded of Gunner Collis, which contributed to gain him his well-earned Cross for Valour. While the garrison under General Primrose were besieged in Candahar, anxiously awaiting the arrival of General Roberts’ relief column, various sorties were made upon the enemy. On one of these occasions, in the middle of August, Collis was standing by his gun on the rampart of the fort when Generals Primrose and Nuttall passed in earnest conversation with Colonel Burnet.

Hearing one of the former say that he wished he could send a message to General Dewberry, who was fighting away out in the village, the gunner stepped up to Colonel Burnet and touched him on the arm.

“I think I can take the message, sir,” he said, giving a salute.

The officers were doubtful about allowing him to go on so dangerous an errand, but after a little hesitation General Primrose wrote a note which Collis slipped into his pocket. Then, a rope having been brought, the gunner was lowered over the parapet into the ditch, about forty feet below. He was fired at by the enemy’s matchlock men as he slid down, but luckily they were too far off to aim accurately.

Reaching the village safely, he delivered his message to General Dewberry, and, dodging the enemy, returned to clamber up the rope. While half way up the Afghans tried to “pot” him again, and this time a bullet came close enough to cut off the heel of his left boot.

At the instance of General Nuttall and Colonel Burnet, General Roberts recommended the brave gunner for the V.C., and much to Collis’s surprise it was presented to him on July 28th, 1881.