Warrior by Isabel George

Author:Isabel George
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-03-26T00:00:00+00:00

The winter of 1917–18 was a cruel one, especially for the horses. The severe cold and hard rain made everything more difficult to bear, and Seely recognised that Warrior was nearing a state of complete exhaustion. The severity of the weather and the long and arduous march to join the Battle of Passchendaele was proving almost too much for this brave horse. Somehow, though, he managed to hold on, and because of this, others did too. The cry went out: ‘If old Warrior can do it, we can!’

Laden with hand grenades and ammunition for the machine gunners they rode north towards Ypres. They hoped they had enough to keep them going, whatever it was they were due to face when they got there. It was a steady march in heavy rain that showed no mercy and no sign of lifting. The pools of water just lay on top of the ground until they were trodden into the thick glue-like mud by the thousands of hooves and boots passing through. On and on went the sombre trail of men and horses merging into the khaki landscape. All perfectly camouflaged against each other, their heads bowed under the weight of the rain. Suddenly Warrior shied, almost throwing Seely off his back. ‘Warrior, what on earth is wrong?’ Seely asked him. He was concerned, but also relieved that Warrior hadn’t bolted, even though he was trembling all over and resisting being handled. Something was making him afraid of going further. What could he see that was scaring him so much? What could be terrifying a horse that had stood fast as shells exploded at his feet and horses were cut down at his side? There was a long line of several hundred Chinese gravediggers working just ahead. He did not want to go past them. The smell of death to a horse’s heightened sense of smell must have been overpowering.

Advancing in the rain, Seely and his men walked out of the gloom and into the ruins of Ypres. It had been three years since Warrior had last been there, and now they were passing by what was left of the Cathedral and the Cloth Hall on their way to the rendezvous point of St Julien. A northwest wind battered the rain against Warrior’s flanks and the road blurred under the swell of so much water. It was miserable to see all the horses lying dead along the way. The mud had claimed them all when there was no escaping its depth and grip. Suddenly Warrior himself slipped deep into the mud. In moments he was in up to his belly. It took Seely and three others to grapple with Warrior and somehow release him from the mud that was sucking him down. Along with all the expected grit and determination, Seely also showed an incredible certainty and faith: ‘My Warrior cannot die …’ he said to himself. It was with the power of such belief that Warrior was pulled from the clutches of death once more.

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