Isandlwana

Who would have thought that beneath the shadow of a Sphinx like mountain in Zululand, and before the massacre, it would leave so long a shadow over British Imperial history? Who would have thought that the redcoats that stood, and died here are still regarded by the Zulu as the bravest of the brave? Who would have thought that 1770 men could possibly defend themselves against another army of 40 000 warriors? Who would have thought that the shameless political manoeuvering and greed of the Establishment would lead to the deaths of brave men?

It is the events leading up to the day itself that are telling of the characters that manipulated them. Lord Chelmsford was right in the thick of it. The British officials in Natal wanted, needed the Zulu king to go to war. But he saw through their ruse time and time again and diverted, deflected every mechanism that they threw at him. He never gave them the excuse to unleash the might of the British Army. Eventually appeasement didn't work, nor did a proud king begging. War beckoned on the horizon and as sure as night follows day. Greed and manipulation eventually won out.

It took Lord Chelmsford and his army 9 days to cover 9 miles from Rorke's Drift to encamp under the shadow of the Sphinx. Minor skirmishes were had and little achieved. The great confrontation was still to come. But Chelmsford was an arrogant general, complacent in his ability to command a battle and completely trusting an enemy that would "fight by the rules". He knew the Zulu and anticipated where the bulk of the army was to be found.

With a poor camp defence, and the army spilt in two, the camp was ripe for destruction. The Zulu King and the generals had manipulated the British well. They had led a great many soldiers on a game of hide and seek and chasing shadows. By the end of each day, the British soldiers were dead on their feet after walking 30miles with 20 pounds in heavy red coats over the hills and mountains of Zululand in the blazing heat of summer.

The dreadful day dawned and with it the scream of the sentry pickets that the Zulu army was here on the other side of the hill overlooking the camp. Messages were sent to Chelmsford and routinely ignored and the camp was effectively left to fend for itself. Imagine a thin red line standing a thousand yards away and each man 30 yards from the next. Imagine next 40 000 screaming, shield thumping Zulus, pouring over the hill intent only on destroying you. Imagine that you know that your last moments on earth are upon you, and you might feel the heart stopping terror of the men in red coats. But they never broke and run. Zulus still tell the stories of these lions that stood their ground, staring death right in the face and not flinching!

The Zulu King's orders were to destroy only the red coats. Ignore everything else. If you look back at the history books, you will notice that it is only officers who survive this massacre. They did so because they run and because they wore blue uniforms. The King's orders were explicit and his warriors obeyed.

The army deployed into its classic horns of bull battle formation. 1770 men, even with rifles and making a fighting withdraw never stood a chance. While retreating from the force of one of the horn attacks, the other horn stampeded their 6000 head of cattle into their backs. Whoever survived, was quickly dispatched. What survivors there were tried to make their way to Fugitive's Drift. 9 miles as the crows flies, but a million miles when you are fleeing battle crazed warriors adapted to running 40kms in a day through terrain you know nothing about.

During battle, Zulu warriors need to "wash their spears" in blood; to prove their lack of cowardice. They needed to show that they "had eaten". In the height of close quarters battle, a warrior could thrust his spear into your side, pull it out and disembowel you and squeeze the juice from your gall bladder in close of 4 - 8 seconds, shouting (in Zulu of course)"I have eaten!" and then go find his next victim. Every warrior wanted, needed, to do this. The British bodies on the battlefield were slashed and stabbed beyond recognition as wave after wave of Zulu ran over them. "I have eaten, my King!" It is the Zulu way.

The Zulus also believe that they will inherit the spirit of their brave enemy once they vanquish him and so they must, literally, have a piece of him. On the field of Isandlwana, a single red coated soldier had somehow escaped the initial slaughter and had found refuge in a shallow cave high on the hill overlooking the field. He had nowhere to escape to with his back against the wall. When all his ammunition was spent, he used his rifle as a club and his bayonet as a spear, and then finally his fists and teeth. Around him lay the bodies of 20 warriors with more wounded. Zulus looking up at this commented that there fought a lion, one of great courage. There was not much to find, let alone bury when the time came.

The redcoats are remembered at Isandlwana by the Zulus as the bravest of the brave by those that guard their graves. The field is now littered with large white cairns under which are the collected bones of those that died on this field. With the wind blowing through the grass, it makes for a very poignant reminder of brave men. If there was ever a case of lions being led by donkeys, then this is it.

The Zulus had swept through the camp in under an hour and had cleared off long before Chelmsford arrived back with his column. With no sense of honour, he ordered an immediate departure from the field and he beat a hasty retreat back to England to explain his actions. He didn't even have enough guts to stay and bury his dead. They were left to the jackals, hyenas and vultures. It was only months later, when all the bones had been picked clean and bleached white was anything done. Here was a place where the British Army had been defeated by the natives armed only with spears and shields. At the outrage felt by the Empire was enormous! It was not long before the Zulu nation was crushed at the Battle of Ulundi, not long after. The politicians had got what they wanted after all.

Today, the white cairns are the only grave stones of brave redcoats and proud Zulu warriors and the wind is the requiem sang for them.

More gifted and far more knowledgeable experts have written about this place. Google "Isandlwana", "Lord Chelmsford" and "1st/24th Staffordshire foot regiment" for more, and arguably more accurate information.

But one is perhaps the best is Mike Nel. Mike is a gifted storyteller, an expert historian and a fluent Zulu speaker and seen by them as one of their own. We sat spellbound as he talked and walked and showed us through the events of that day. It was impossible not to hear the thunder of warriors' feet as they run through the grass; or the thumping of the shields as the spears struck. He had us stand next to Charlie Pope, a young officer killed out of the first line, he had us standing on the ammunition wagon surrounded by the regiments fighting to our last. Here was a man who gave us both sides of the story and had us thrown into the pitch of battle and the despair, but resolve of the redcoats to go down fighting. If you ever have the chance to visit these parts, Mike Nel is a storyteller that will take you back in time and have you live the events themselves.

The Defence of Rorke's Drift

Who has not heard of Rorke's Drift? Details are fuzzy, but you know you know something about Rorke's Drift.

Rorke's Drift was a little trading station with a few houses overlooking the Buffalo River. Nine miles away, you can see Isandlwana from here. It was here that Chelmsford requisitioned the Drift for British Army use and had his sick, wounded troops stationed here to recover. It was also a storage depot of food, drinks and ammunition.

It was also here that a heroic stand was made against the Zulus that had come from Isandlwana eager to "wash their spears". When some of the deserters come past the Drift, the screamed warnings of impending doom and literally headed for the hills. Those that could make their escape did. But there were many that did not.

The officers and NCOs bolstered the meager defences as they could. And fired volley after volley of bullets to keep the Zulus at bay. Reports say that the men manning the defences here expended 20 - 30 000 rounds of ammunition, yet only 700 Zulus were killed by gunfire. With night falling, the desperate defence of Rorke's Drift began in earnest. The hospital was soon engulfed in flames and men were helping each through makeshift holes in the wall to escape the warriors coming in through the doors and windows. It was bloody and savage warfare with no quarter given.

Eventually those that could, escaped from the hospital made it across a small open area riddled by crossfire to behind the "famous biscuit box wall". It was a long, and very desperate night with the Zulus attacking in waves and waves and being repulsed again and again. The padre, who had his horse stolen and so couldn't escape, handed out ammunition, water and rum to those manning the walls.

By actions end, when the Zulu had withdrawn from the field and the situation could be assessed, men had collapsed through exhaustion, wounds received and complete relief. No fewer than 11 Victoria Crosses(awarded for exceptional bravery in battle) were awarded to the defenders of Rorke's Drift by Lord Chelmsford. It remains the only time in British military history where so many VC's were awarded in a single action.

Did these men deserve them? Undoubtedly so. But some critics say that there was an ulterior motive to handing so many out at one time.

Chelmsford needed some very good PR to mitigate the circumstances of the disaster before. Even the Queen's Colours had been lost (regiments carried their colours, called the Queen's Colours, into battle. If the colours fell, or where captured, then all was considered lost. It was a massive dishonor to lose your colours in battle. It is also a massive black spot on the regiment's record). The British government had expressly been against any war in Zululand, yet her officials and representatives in Natal and created the conditions for on, and had suffered a very embarrassing defeat; especially at the hands of "mere savages".

As brave as these men were, Zulu historians also say that this should never have happened. These historians cite a few factors to support their arguments. Those that attacked that night had run about 45km that day; the soldiers were all older than 40 and they lacked decisive leadership to direct the attack. Otherwise, how could so few men stand the onslaught of so many? Even if, they had some flimsy defences?

Even so, since then, Isandlwana and especially Rorke's Drift has exemplified what it means to be a British soldier ever since. All the qualities of can-do, will-do, never-say-die attitudes, bravery, discipline and sheer doggedness were here for future generations to admire and follow.

Incidentally, German officers from WWII said, "British soldiers are the best in the world. If we had them during the war, we would have won the war hands down."