One hundred and forty miles south of Chitral, as the crow flies, is the border city of Peshawar, standing like a sentinel on the north-western frontier of India. It is, indeed, the guardian of the gate, for before it winds westward the famous Khyber Pass, which links Afghanistan with our great Eastern Empire.

Peshawar stands almost in the heart of the Afridi country, surrounded with the hill tribes of Mohmunds, Swats, Buners, Khels, Afridis and Orakzais. Fierce warlike races are these, with whom from the beginning of things we have had trouble. At one time we thought we had tamed them, and we gave them the rifles they had hitherto stolen, put them into khaki, and made them wardens of the passes. But the wild tribesmen cannot live without fighting; disputes over boundaries arose, and these eventually culminated in a rising that threatened to weaken our grip on these frontier posts. Whence came the Malakand, Swat, and Tirah campaigns of 1897-98.

When in 1897 Sir William Lockhart, Commander-in-Chief in India, moved towards the rebellious tribes with an army numbering 35,000 men, it was evident that there was a powerful combination between the Mohammedan clans in the hills north, west, and south of Peshawar, against British rule. It was, in a sense, a Holy War, with Mad Mullahs as instigators, though behind them was the sinister influence of the Amir of Afghanistan.

The campaigns were comparatively brief, but they must ever rank as among the most difficult in modern history. The fighting was never in the open. Our soldiers—Highlanders, Dorsets, and Ghurkas alike—had to scale precipitous cliffs, worm their way up tortuous hillside paths, and storm the stone “sangars” behind which their enemies were strongly posted.

In the tangle of hills in which the engagements took place the agile Afridis and their brother-clansmen were perfectly at home. Rocks, caves, and bushes afforded them ample shelter, and from the heights that lined the passes they poured a deadly fire upon the British troops. The work of dislodging them, of driving them from their strongholds, taxed the powers of our men to the utmost.

Of the several V.C.’s won in this arduous mountain warfare the first fell to Lieutenant Edward Costello, of the Indian Staff Corps, for a gallant rescue of a native lance-havildar at Malakand. The wounded havildar lay out in the open, exposed to the enemy’s fire, when the lieutenant saw him, on a piece of ground, too, that was overrun with swordsmen. But the young officer with a couple of sepoys ran out to his assistance, and brought him into the hospital.

A month later, in the Swat valley beyond the Malakand Pass, three Crosses were earned for a very brilliant action. At Landikai, on August 17th, 1897, the advance guard of Sir Bindon Blood’s brigade shelled the enemy from their position and drove them out into the plain. Across this the Swatis retreated at top speed, making for the shelter of the hills on the other side.

In pursuit of the flying tribesmen went Colonel Robert Bellew Adams, Captain Palmer, Lieutenant Greaves, and Viscount Fincastle, the latter being present in the capacity of Times correspondent. Palmer’s horse was soon hit, its rider being saved by some of his men who galloped after him. Greaves’ horse, becoming restive under the din of the firing, suddenly bolted, and away went the lieutenant careering among the enemy.

Seeing him alone among the Swatis, Colonel Adams and Viscount Fincastle spurred hastily to his rescue, but before they could reach him the hapless lieutenant had been struck down by a swordsman. In the hope that he was not killed they pushed on, and with a furious charge swept the ground clear around his body.

A well-aimed shot now brought down Fincastle’s horse, leaving the young war-correspondent to meet his enemies on foot. He at once endeavoured to raise Greaves on to Adams’ saddle, but the wounded man slipped off again, and a rush of Ghazis prevented a second attempt for the time. Standing over the lieutenant’s body, Fincastle bravely kept the enemy at bay, being well aided by Colonel Adams. Then two sowars rode up to them, and another attempt was made to lift Greaves to the saddle. They succeeded in their object, but another bullet hit the poor fellow again as they raised him and killed him.

By this time Lieutenant MacLean of the same squadron had led the rest of the troopers to the cover of some trees. Leaving them here, he dashed out with three sowars to the others’ help. Shots fell thickly among them from the Ghazis on the hillside, but together they managed to get Greaves’ body on to a trooper’s horse, and at once made off for shelter. Fincastle and MacLean were on foot, the latter’s horse having also been shot; and as they went along the young lieutenant was hit in both thighs and mortally wounded. Colonel Adams escaped with a sword-cut in his right hand.

Both Adams and Fincastle received the V.C. for their brave attempt to rescue Greaves, while Lieutenant Hector Lachlan Stewart MacLean was gazetted at the same time as one who would have been awarded the decoration had he lived.

There was a sharp piece of fighting in the Mamund Valley some weeks later, where two young Engineer officers, Lieutenants Watson and Colvin, distinguished themselves in driving the enemy from the burning village of Bilot, and added V.C. to their names. But I must pass on to tell of the famous storming of the heights of Dargai and of how the “gay Gordons” there covered themselves with fresh glory.

In the advance of the British troops from Shinwari towards Karappa a large portion of the division under Major-General Yeatman-Biggs was ordered to take the route through the Chagru Kotal. As soon as this movement was commenced, however, the Afridis posted themselves in great force in the Samana Hills along the Khanki Valley, giving them the command of the track along which the army must necessarily pass.

The working parties on the Chagru Kotal were so harassed by the Afridi sharpshooters that it became important that the Dargai and other hills in the vicinity should be cleared. On October 18th, Sir Power Palmer, who was entrusted with the conduct of the operations in place of General Yeatman-Biggs, who had fallen ill, made a sweeping attack on the Dargai position. The 3rd Ghurkas, led by Lieutenant Beynon with a revolver in one hand and an alpenstock in the other, led the dash up the cliff-side, and successfully dislodged the enemy.

Unfortunately, for several reasons, the heights could not be held. The water-supply was difficult of access, and to have placed a detachment alone on Dargai while the Afridis were masters of the Khanki Valley would have been to risk a serious disaster. Under orders from the Commander-in-Chief, the troops therefore retired from the position.

As soon as this retreat was accomplished, the enemy, who had been greatly reinforced, reoccupied the heights and set about constructing stone “sangars,” in anticipation of another assault. This followed two days later, after fresh preparations had been made. General Yeatman-Biggs had proposed another route avoiding the Chagru defile, but Sir William Lockhart determined to adhere to his original plan, viz. to force the passage of the Chagru Kotal.

On Wednesday, October 20th, in the early morning, the troops, strengthened by the addition of two battalions and a battery from the first division, left the Shinwari camp. The honour of carrying the Dargai heights, which had to be stormed immediately the Chagru Kotal was reached, was given to the 1st Battalion of the 2nd Ghurkas, with the Dorset and Derbyshire Regiments in the second and third lines respectively. Behind these came the 1st Battalion of the Gordon Highlanders (the old 75th).

To understand properly the difficult nature of the task set them, something must be said about Dargai itself. I cannot do better than quote the description given by Captain Shadwell in his excellent book on the campaign.

“The village of Dargai lies on the northern side of a small plateau. The eastern edge of this tableland breaks off, at first, in an almost abrupt cliff; but some distance lower down the ground, though very steep, shelves away less precipitously. This slope is thrown out from the bottom of the cliff in the form of a narrow and razor-like spur, with the path or track lying along its northern side, well within view and range of the cliff-head. But by climbing along the southern side of this spur, troops can move from Chagru Kotal, or certainly from Mama Khan, a village half-way between the former place and the plateau, unseen by the enemy.

“Connecting the crest of the spur, however, and the foot of the cliff, there is a narrow neck or saddle one hundred yards long by thirty broad, whose sides are far too precipitous to allow of any movement along them. Though devoid of all cover and completely exposed to the heights above, this ridge had to be crossed, so as to reach the path ascending to the summit; and here it was that the casualties in the attack by Brigadier-General Westmacott’s Brigade (on the 18th) and the heavier losses of the 20th occurred.”

This, then, was the dangerous passage to be “rushed” by our troops. In addition to its exposure to the enemy’s fire, it may be added that the ground was thickly strewn with rocks and boulders which greatly impeded progress.

As on the first assault, the post of honour was allotted to those game little fighters, the Ghurkas. The 1st Battalion of the 2nd Ghurkas, with a party of specially trained scouts from the 3rd, under Lieutenant Tillard, swarmed up the slope at the word of command and dashed headlong across the zone of fire. In the rush through the pitiless rain of bullets that at once descended two officers fell, one shot dead and the other mortally wounded, while thirty men bit the dust, never to rise again; but the rest reached cover on the opposite side.

After the brave Ghurkas, the Dorsets and the Derbys tried time and time again to follow, only to be mowed down in heaps. All that succeeded in crossing the ridge were a few who made a dash for it singly or in small parties. How deadly was the marksmanship of the Afridis is shown by the fact that when Lieutenant Hewett, of the Dorsetshire Regiment, led a section forward, he was the only one to reach the crouching Ghurkas. Every one of the men following him was killed.

It was in a pause at this juncture that Private Vickery, of the same regiment, made himself conspicuous by running out repeatedly and at last succeeding in dragging back to shelter a wounded comrade who was lying out in the open; this and several other acts of bravery gaining him a V.C. in due course.

For a time it seemed a sheer impossibility that the position could be carried, though the artillery was playing upon the enemy’s sangars continually. Noon came, and still the three companies of Ghurkas were waiting under the cover of the rocks until their comrades should join them for the final dash up the heights.

At last General Yeatman-Biggs ordered that the position must be taken at all costs. Brigadier-General Kempster, in command of the brigade, now brought forward the 1st Battalion of the Gordon Highlanders and the 3rd Sikhs, and told them they were to make the assault. Far up on the hillside the jubilant Afridis were shouting defiance, amid the waving of standards and beating of drums, confident that their stronghold was impregnable. They rejoiced too soon.

Drawing up his men, Colonel Mathias, of the Gordons, said: “Highlanders! the General says the position must be taken at all costs. The Gordons will take it!”

With their Colonel, Major Forbes Macbean, and Lieutenant Gordon at their head, and their pipers, Findlater and Milne, playing the familiar “Cock o’ the North,” the Gordons dashed over the fiery zone, with the Derbys, the Dorsets, and the Sikhs pressing close behind them.

Almost the first to be hit were Major Macbean, who cheered on his men as he lay on the ground, and the two pipers. Milne was shot through the lung and fell senseless, but Piper “Jock” Findlater, who was shot in both ankles, propped himself up against a boulder and continued to play his pipes with unabated energy. And to the inspiriting strains of the old regimental air, the Highlanders and the others got across.

It was perhaps owing to the suddenness of the rush after the long wait, and to the renewed artillery fire, that the Gordons accomplished the task with fewer losses than had attended the previous attempts; yet for all that the casualties were heavy. In the charge up the steep slope, where some of the Afridis were already turning tail, more men were to fall ere the heights were won; but won they were, the enemy being sent flying in all directions.

It was a grand dash, worthy of the splendid reputation of the Gordons, and well did they deserve the burst of cheers with which the other regiments spontaneously greeted them as they returned. Sir William Lockhart, too, at a parade two days afterwards, had a word or two to say about that exploit which filled the Highlanders with pride.

For his gallantry in continuing to play his pipes while wounded “Jock” Findlater in time was awarded the Victoria Cross. There were many who considered that Piper Milne also merited the honour, but the authorities thought differently, and his claim was passed over.

Two other Crosses on the same day were gained by Private Lawson, of the Gordons, for rescuing Lieutenant Dingwall and a fellow-private under a most severe fire; and by Lieutenant H. S. Pennell, of the Derbyshires, for a brave endeavour to save Captain Smith of the same regiment. Only after a second attempt, when he discovered that the wounded officer was dead, did Lieutenant Pennell desist from his efforts.

What other gallant deeds were performed equally deserving of reward it is impossible to say. In the fierce swirl of the fight many must have passed unnoticed, and many heroes must have fallen at the moment of their self-sacrifice. But we do know that it was not only British officers and men who distinguished themselves in that memorable fight. For the record speaks of one Kirpa Ram Thapa, a native officer of the 2nd Ghurkas, who though badly wounded in two places refused to fall out, and insisted on leading his company to the very end.

One other story that I may note has a humorous touch about it, and is characteristic of the good terms on which officers and men are in the Highland regiments. As the Gordons streamed up the ascent to the summit of Dargai, after their bold dash, Colonel Mathias, who was not quite the man he was in his younger days, showed signs of being winded.

“Stiff climb, eh, Mackie?” he said, turning to his colour-sergeant, who was by him; “I’m—not—so young—as I—was, you know.”

“Never mind, sir!” the sergeant is said to have answered, slapping his colonel encouragingly on the back and nearly knocking the remaining breath out of him. “Ye’re gaun verra strong for an auld man!”