10 Farewell to Afghanistan (Jack Windrush #10) by Malcolm Archibald

Author:Malcolm Archibald [Archibald, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 4824121590
Publisher: Next Chapter
Published: 2020-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Jack felt his insides lurch. “Roberts is sick?”

“Sick as anybody can be,” Burridge confirmed. “He’s on his charpoy looking like death, sweating and shivering fit to shake the throne and with his Indian attendants flitting around in a state of near panic.”

Jack took a deep breath. He thought of the brigadiers who were with the column. He knew that MacGregor, Macpherson, and Baker were experienced fighting soldiers who would give a good account of themselves and far better than Burrows. However, neither possessed the charisma of Bobs or the aura of invincibility that accompanied the little Irishman.

“What are we doing?”

Burridge lit two cheroots and passed one to Jack. “What would you do?”

“I’d carry on,” Jack said at once. “Relieve Kandahar, smash Ayub Khan’s army to show him he can’t defeat a British force with impunity, then evacuate Afghanistan and never look back.”

Burridge inhaled deeply. “That sounds good to me. Thrash the buggers to teach them no end of a lesson, and leave their damned country to its feuds, bloodletting, and hellish climate.”

“What’s the discussion?” the familiar voice broke in as General Roberts appeared. A servant supported him on either arm; Roberts’ face was drawn and white, his eyes bloodshot, but he was upright.

“We heard you were sick, sir,” Burridge said.

“I am sick, dammit,” Roberts said. “Laid low with some damned fever, but we’re marching on. We have a city to relieve and Ayub Khan’s army to defeat. Get your men ready to move.”

“Yes, sir!” Burridge saluted.

The column marched again, with teams of dooley bearers carrying Roberts. At the first break, Roberts summoned Jack to his side. “It’s a most ignominious mode of conveyance for a general on service, Windrush,” Roberts said. “It’s a damned nuisance, but there’s no help for it. I can’t sit on a horse, and better for the men to see their commander in a dooley than see him face down in the dirt, don’t you think?”

“I do, sir.” Jack felt tempted to tell Roberts that General Wolseley had been carried in a hammock during the Ashanti campaign but decided to refrain. Roberts might not wish a junior officer to remind him of his main rival at such a crucial time in the campaign.

“All right.” Roberts lay back for a moment, with the sweat a dull sheen on his face. “Tell Badcock and Low, the quartermasters, to arrange provisions for the men. Order Major Leach to draw up a map of the country between Kandahar and Argandab, for that is where Ayub Khan is most likely to make his stand.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack hurried to obey.

The column moved forward again, inexorably heading towards Kandahar.

“We’ll be there within a couple of days,” Singer said. “Then we’ll give old Ayub what for!”

Ayub’s spies and scouts must have sent him very detail about the advancing British column, for he sent an emissary to Roberts under a flag of truce.

“Is Ayub surrendering?” Lieutenant Trent asked.

“No,” Jack told him. “He’s an Afghan. He’s trying to gain time to see how sick the general is, size us up and prepare his position to strike when we’re unprepared.

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