TW06 The Khyber Connection NEW (8 page)

Andre shook her head. "That doesn't work," she said.

Lucas frowned. "Why not?"

"Granted," Andre said, "the information could be missing from my subknowledge because my implant education took place fairly recently, relatively speaking. But when did you get
your
implant education?"

"Why ... when I enlisted, of course. But I still don't see what that has ..." His voice trailed off.

"Uh-huh," said Andre. "When did you take up reading history as a hobby?"

"Not until well
after
I enlisted," Lucas said. "Damn! I shouldn't remember anything about Churchill either.
But why do I?"

"I'd say we've got ourselves a real problem," Andre said.

"To which no solution can possibly exist," said Lucas, "because the problem can't exist. Only it does."

"Maybe Finn will have an answer," she said hope-fully.

"Which brings up another question," Lucas said. "Will
Finn
remember anything about Winston Churchill?"

"What are you getting at?" said Andre.

"Suppose he doesn't?" Lucas said.

"Okay, so suppose that. What of it?"

"If Finn doesn't have any subknowledge of Churchill, then the whole explanation works, except in that case, I'll be the anomaly."

"I still don't see your point."

"Remember our hypothesis. What if something I'm about to do—or something I've already done—is the cause of the disruption?" He bit his lower lip. "Jesus, what if I'm the guy who's going to kill Churchill?"

Their arrival at the Malakand was like an entrance through the doors of Hell. The troops of the garrison were worn out from fighting. Many were wounded.

Many had been killed. The broken ground was littered everywhere with bodies, far too numerous for the burial details to dispose of, even if they'd had the time. The lizards and the carrion birds were feasting.

The fort itself was situated on a hill overlooking the depression known as The Crater. The position of the garrison had been spread out when the attack commenced on the twenty-sixth of July. Malakand Post, the fort itself, was in a virtually impregnable spot, but its surroundings were its weak point. To the north-north-east of the fort was The Crater, where the largest concentration of buildings stood. There was the bazaar, which now stood ruined and blackened from flames; the commissariat: the brigade offices and the mess, on a rise overlooking the depression; and an area known as Gretna Green, site of the quarters of the 45th Sikhs. To the north of the depression was a giant rock formation known as Gibraltar Tower, which was in the hands of the enemy tribesmen, who possessed superior firing position from its heights. West of the depression was a water-filled nullah. Across the nullah, through the rocks and to the north-northwest, was North Camp. The camel and transport lines were there, as well as Camp Malakand, the site of Number 8 Mountain Battery, the 3Ist Punjab Infantry, and a large detachment of the 11th Bengal Lancers. Back across the nullah, to the southwest of the fort, was the 24th Punjab infantry.

Communications between North Camp and the Malakand Post were by telegraph. Two roads, separated by rock formations, ran parallel east of the fort to Dargai—the graded road, and the older Buddhist Road.

The officers of the fort had just returned from their game of polo when the garrison at Chakdarra telegraphed that they were under attack by a large force of Pathans. A moment later the wire was cut. The officers were still in their polo kit when the attack came.

A handful of men under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel McRae of the 45th Sikhs immediately ran to hold off the enemy's advance down the Buddhist Road until the camp could mobilize and reinforce them. They held a position at a point where the road took a sharp curve through a narrow pass. There they reenacted the stand of the Three Hundred Spartans. McRae's men kept up a steady stream of fire at an even more steady and seemingly unceasing stream of Ghazis, buying the garrison valuable time in which to organize. McRae was wounded, but he held on until nightfall. The enemy pulled back.

At the fort General Meiklejohn could see the glow of star shells from North Camp, which told him that an attack was under way there as well. More tribesmen were pressing in along the graded road, and the 24th was hotly engaged. Tribesmen commanded the heights of the Gibraltar Tower and kept up a constant sniping at the troops below while the infantry attempted to beat back the rushing advance of hundreds of fanatical swordsmen. Meiklejohn rushed from the fort, and at great peril to his life, kept moving from point to point to direct the defensive actions.

Wild fighting took place in the bazaar, a struggle of sword against bayonet as the tribesmen poured through, driving the soldiers back and capturing a large part of the ammunition reserves. Attacks continued along the high ground of the Buddhist Road and from the rocks all around. Regular fire from the rim of the depression resulted in heavy losses.

North Camp was evacuated at the first opportunity and a cavalry detachment sent to reinforce Chakdarra.

Miraculously, they got through by crisscrossing the nullah while under heavy fire. Lack of proper transport caused the officers and men of North Camp to leave almost all of their possessions behind. That night the glow of flames from the north gave testimony to the looting and destruction that commenced as soon as they had left.

Continued massed attacks made it impossible for the pickets to hold their lines. They were forced to pull back to the fort, there to strengthen their defenses as much as possible by leveling the bazaar and many of the outlying buildings to cut down on the enemy's opportunities for concealment. Open lines of fire were exposed and bonfires built to illuminate the enemy's approach at night.

There was little respite. By the time the detachment of lancers Delaney rode with had arrived, the Malakand garrison had sustained heavy casualties. Three British officers were killed, ten severely wounded. Seven native officers had died, amounting to a total of twenty senior officers killed. The total losses of officers, both British and native, as well as non-commissioned officers and enlisted men, stood at 153 killed and wounded.

All around upon the hills. Delaney could see the white dots that were the white-robed Ghazis moving about.

There were dozens upon dozens of tribal banners, as well as the black flags of the jehad. As night came, the cliffs all around them glowed with the light of several hundred campfires.

"Hell of a sight, eh?"

Finn turned toward the voice.

"Surgeon-Lieutenant Hugo," said the doctor.

"Lieutenant Delaney," said Finn. He held out his hand. Hugo took it in an awkward grip with his left hand. His right arm hung straight at his side, looking stiff. "You were hit?" said Finn.

Hugo gave a slight snort. "No, fortunately. Bit of temporary paralysis. Cramped, you know."

From what?"

"Oh, Lieutenant Ford was wounded in the shoulder. Bullet cut the artery. We were under heavy fire and he was lying out in the open, so there was no opportunity to give the poor chap proper aid, don't you know. He had fainted from loss of blood. I had no other choice but to pinch the vessel shut between my thumb and forefinger. Crouched there that way for three hours until I could move him to safety. Hell of a thing. Haven't been able to move my arm hardly at all since. Hand's gone numb. Nothing to worry about, it's only a temporary cramp, but it's rather an inconvenience."

Finn thought that only an Englishman could speak in such an offhand manner about holding a man's life between his thumb and forefinger for three hours while under heavy fire.

"Anyway, it's nice to have you chaps," said Hugo, putting a cigarette in his mouth and awkwardly trying to strike a light with his left hand. Finn lit it for him.

"Thank's, old boy. Didn't quite think you were riding into such a damned mess, did you?"

"Oh, I knew it would be bad," said Finn, "but it's another thing to see it. There must be thousands of them up there. It looks like the whole mountain range is on fire."

Hugo nodded. "More arriving every day. Word has it the Utman Khels have joined the fray. The Mahsuds, as well. The Mad Fakir's pulling them in. Final bloody conflict and all that. There're lathered up right and proper."

'They let us ride right in," said Finn.

Hugo nodded again. "Why not? Why take you in the open where you can make an effort at deploying? Better position here. Nothing short of a mass suicidal assault would break into this fort—not that I think they're not up it, mind you—but they have us trapped in here. It's like sitting atop a sugar cube in a great big empty cup.

And they're all around the rim. I believe they're building up to final push. Meanwhile they continue sniping at us from the cliffs. They're damned proficient at it too. Bloody good marksmanship, at this range."

"Has there been any communication with Chakdarra?" Finn said.

"We managed to reestablish heliograph signaling with them briefly on the morning of the twenty-ninth," said Hugo. "They're hanging on, but they've sustained heavy losses. It seems they've had a rougher go of it than we. Food and ammunition are running short. Lieutenant-Colonel Adams took the Guides to make a try for the Amandara Pass, but they were forced to retire. He lost sixteen men and twenty-six horses. Now that you lot have arrived, we might stand a better chance. I was forced to miss the officer's conference. Had to tend to the wounded. Couldn't do much with this arm, you know. Stiff as bloody blazes. That new doctor was a godsend." He chuckled. "Godsend. Missionary, godsend, that's good, what?"

Finn smiled.

"So what's the plan, then?" Hugo said.

"General Blood's ordered the relieving column to assemble on Gretna Green there," Finn said, pointing.

"The first attack will be directed toward Castle Rock, which dominates the high ground above the green. We move at half-past four this morning."

"Bloody hell," said Hugo. "If Castle Rock is taken at the same time as troops begin a push from Gretna Green, it might open up the graded road, and then deployment would be possible! Who thought of that?"

"General Blood."

"Now that I see it, it's so damned obvious," said Hugo. "But then, we hadn't the manpower before. We may get out of this mess yet. Well, I'd better go and give the good Father a hand." He held up his one useful arm and chuckled. "A hand, eh? That's a good one."

Chuckling, he went down below.

Delaney hadn't had a chance to speak with either Lucas or Andre since their arrival. Tending the wounded at the garrison was a full-time job, especially with Hugo being limited in what he could do until his arm recovered from the cramping effects of his heroic action of the day before. All things considered, the morale of the troops at the fort was astonishingly high. They had been engaged in almost ceaseless fighting for a week, with little opportunity for sleep, and they were all exhausted, but they were functioning superbly.

As soon as the relief column of infantry had arrived, their officers had been ordered into conference with General Meiklejohn and General Blood to make plans to break out and rescue the Chakdarra garrison. In a few hours the column would assemble and prepare to move while the attack against the overlooking rock formation commenced. Once the objective had been taken, Blood would then take up position with his staff upon the heights of Castle Rock, which would give him a commanding view of the field of battle.

Historically, Finn knew the tactics were to succeed and the column would break through to relieve the embattled fort at Chakdarra, but that would only be the start in a large operation that would last for months, culminating in the Tirah Expeditionary Force, a punitive action, launched against the Afridi homeland in the high mountain valley of Tirah. In between there were plenty of opportunities for things to go wrong.

Delaney knew that they had situated themselves as best they could under the circumstances, but this mission gave them less freedom to act than any other mission he had served. There was no chance now of breaking away from the troops to reconnoiter the situation in the hills. The cliffs were crawling with Ghazis. The best they could hope for was to stay with the main body and look out for any potential disruptive actions. Blood had to be protected at all costs. Meiklejohn as well. The main problem was that they didn't know who or where the enemy was—if, in fact, there was an enemy. Finn hoped there was. Fighting an enemy was easier than trying to compensate for an historical anomaly that might have been triggered by any number of events.

"I see you couldn't sleep either," said Churchill, coming up to stand beside Delaney. He looked out at the fires on the mountains. "I think the entire garrison's awake."

"Everyone's too worked up to sleep," said Finn. "I know our men are looking forward to some action."

"They'll have plenty of it," Churchill said. "If the Ghazis sweep down upon Gretna Green before the attack can be launched and the high ground secured, we'll all be in for it. I've been preparing my dispatches. I only wish there were some way to convey the magnitude of this sight." He gestured out at the campfires on the cliffs. "Words simply can't do it. There must be thousands of them up there. And I had thought our strength would intimidate them. Private Mulvaney was right. My green is showing."

"Starting to regret having come along?" said Finn.

"Oh, not a bit of it," said Churchill. "It didn't appear as though the 4th Hussars were going to get in on any of this, and like any young fool, I was looking for trouble, I suppose." He grinned. "I seem to have found a good deal of it. Should make for some smashing reporting."

"Fancy yourself a writer, do you?" Finn said.

"More than mere fancy," Churchill said. "I'm already beginning to make something of an income at it. but I hope to do far better. True, I'm rather young, but then there's that fellow Kipling who's making such a big success, and he's not much older than I am. Still, he writes this romantic nonsense. and I have ambitions to do more serious work."