Chapter Eight
The officers left the meeting after some final planning and split up to rouse their commands for action. By the land frigate a wagon had pulled up and naval ratings were transferring coal and water to the rear compartment.
“Bosun.” Lieutenant Houseman called to the leader of the naval party that had arrived with replacement ammunition, fuel and water.
“I hate to ask this of the men but in amongst these houses we are blind. I want a lookout up behind the stack. Call for volunteers.”
“Aye aye sir.”
The bosun turned to look at the naval ratings deciding which one had made it high enough on his shit list to be ‘volunteered’ for this little job.
~
The force began to form up for the attack, Greyhound with its ‘volunteer’ crouched on top made its way to the base of the ramp up to the fort.
Third platoon was formed up with the Ironsides right behind them. Second platoon was a bit further back with the munitions wagons behind them
First platoon was to be the last infantry unit up the ramp, they deployed in the market square with sharpshooters on the flat roofed buildings ready to provide covering fire.
The quartermaster’s wagons were moved round ready to follow second platoon up the ramp.
Then once everyone was in position General Summerby ordered the attack to begin and the land frigate started up the ramp towards the gatehouse and the final battle. Greyhound began to work her way up the slope, twenty seconds later a mortar round landed in front of the gate and exploded covering the area with dust and shrapnel.
A few rebels appeared on top of the gatehouse or wall to fire at the land frigate or the infantry in the market square but they were quickly driven back behind the wall by the fire of first platoon’s sharpshooters and by a second mortar round that landed behind the gatehouse and exploded engulfing the whole area in shrapnel.
Both six pounders also joined in, firing against the wall above the path leading up the hill to the gate and with the siege mortar dropping rounds behind the wall into the fort the volume of fire directed against Greyhound was minor. A few rounds bounced off the armour leaving no more than smears of lead. The lookout crouched as low as he could manage between the twin maxim turrets, on the narrow path up to the gate his eyes were not needed.
Greyhound slowly made her way up the ramp and reached the top where she slowly and carefully began to turn towards the gate, her rear wheel and track was left hanging out over the edge of the ramp and her front wheel and track hit the corner of the gatehouse. She could not make the turn without backing up and that ran the risk of tipping backwards and going over the side of the ramp. She had to back onto the ramp again.
General Summerby was watching and he quickly sent an order for the six pounders to target the gatehouse. Lieutenant Houseman gave the same order and nearly simultaneously the gatehouse was hit by shells from all three guns. The entire right end of the gatehouse and the gate itself disintegrated and Greyhound was able to drive up and swing round into the newly created gap.
With a grinding of gears and a scream of high pressure steam Greyhound entered the fort and found itself in the main street leading straight to the fortress building itself, On its right there was the first of a line of houses that formed the that side of the street, broken by several alleys. On the left was a narrow gap between the wall and the first of a line of houses that stretched across the fort until they reached the open area in front of the fortress building broken only by a single alley half way down.
The Land frigate paused for a few seconds in the wreckage of the gatehouse then slowly began to advance into the fort. Behind it came the first soldiers of third platoon.
Lieutenant Fowler gestured his first dozen men to follow the Land Frigate then waved one of the sergeants and a few men to cover the alleys on both sides. He then started forward in the tracks of the land frigate as it ground its way forward.
On the left several men were able to enter the gap between the wall and the line of houses; they advanced and found themselves behind the houses in another street that ran toward the open area in front of the fortress.
On the right several men were ordered to check the first alley, part of the closest building had collapsed from a mortar hit and rubble choked the entrance to the narrow passageway, the soldiers had to climb carefully over the loose and shifting bricks while surrounded by clouds of choking dust. The first pair barely had time to shout a warning before the walking corpses were upon them. One soldier was dragged down before he could fire, corpse hands tearing at his face and neck. The other soldier levelled his rifle and fired before he was dragged down by the weight of corpses pulling on his jacket.
The soldiers behind had seconds to respond and fire. Heavy bullets slammed into the closest corpses to no avail and the unlucky pair tried to back away only to push into the soldiers behind them. One died screaming for god, the other died cursing the fools behind him.
Further back soldiers had enough warning to withdraw and by the time the shambling corpses had make their way past the four now dead soldiers the narrow alley was empty and the survivors of the squad had formed up in the street. Every rifle aimed at the alley mouth.
“FIRE.” A single volley rang out and the first few corpses to reach the pile of rubble were cut down. But there were more behind them and they climbed over the rubble and the newly slain walking corpses, tumbling over the rubble and down into the street.
Shouts rang out for help and the next squad through the shattered gate came to aid them, more rifles were added to the volume of fire but the walking corpses still came on, more and more of them blocking the narrow alley with their own bodies.
Then there came an almighty crash and the street and alley were engulfed in smoke and dust and the thundering clanking of Greyhound. The lookout crouched on her upper deck had seen the crisis behind the Land Frigate and had shouted down through the open hatch to Lieutenant Houseman.
Greyhound had been unable to turn around in the street unless she crushed her way through the nearest buildings so she had done just that. Then she had continued through the houses either side of the corpse filled alley. Her mighty tracks and hull crushed scores of the walking corpses and bought precious time. The full might of third platoon had time to form up and the first of the ironsides were advancing up the street to support them.
The walking corpses were no longer trapped in the alley, they could spread out through the shattered houses but they stumbled over the piles of rubble and broken walls making slow and easy targets for the soldiers. Greyhound had thrown a track on one of the brick walls and was now unable to move but both of her maxim turrets faced to her rear and they had clear arcs of fire to the mass of shambling dead.
Still the walking corpses came on, a hundred or more had fallen and yet as many again still advanced. They began to reach the line of soldiers and firing slackened off as men no longer had the time to reload and rifles became clubs. A corporal was dragged down, the soldiers either side of him frantically beating on the walking corpse with their rifle butts. An Ironside advanced to meet the shambling horde and smashed one to the ground with a swing of its left arm. Then it smashed another with the barrel of its right arm mounted cannon and then fired that cannon, the shell punched through multiple corpses. Some were smashed or torn apart, others just knocked to the ground. A corpse tried to grapple the Ironside but the mechanical warrior was powered by steam pistons and wrapped in good steel.
More and more of the shambling dead reached the Ironside and tried to climb onto it, it was being buried in a great pile of moving bodies beyond even its strength to move. The troops behind it had a moment to reload and to fire, reload and fire. One round passed through the arm of a walking corpse and struck the joint between armour plate and steam boiler casing on the Ironsides back. The joint split and a great cloud of high pressure steam burst forth, the closest dead had the flesh boiled from their bones and the great heaving pile of corpses fell apart as damaged corpses collapsed.
Trooper Nathan Clark, 27. Private. Ironside crewman. Mentioned in dispatched. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Killed when the steam boiler of his Ironside ruptured in combat. His actions save the lives of many in his platoon and he gave his life to hold the advance of the rebel forces allowing third platoon time to reorder and reload.
In the main street shouts alerted Lieutenant Fowler that yet more of the walking corpses were coming down the street from the direction of the fortress building.
“FALL BACK, INTO THE BUILDINGS.” Fowlers voice was barely heard by the sergeants and corporals but they took up the shout. Boots, shoulders or rifle butts were used to smash open the doors of the buildings behind the platoon
As many of the soldiers as could do so retreated into the houses, others found themselves trapped on the street and fought on till they were overwhelmed and buried beneath the wave of shambling dead.
~
Further up the street a group of soldiers who had been behind the land frigate found themselves cut off from both the gate and the rest of the platoon by the advancing corpses, they heard the shout but the door to the closest building was at the other end, they had nothing but the narrow gap between houses to retreat into.
Firing as they fell back the small group of soldiers were safe for moments as the corpses advancing from both sides blocked each other in the narrow gap. Then they pushed in and shambled after the soldiers. Private Smith fired into the chest of the closest and it fell at his feet, he had no time to reload so he bought the barrel of his rifle crashing down on the head of the next shambling dead, crushing its skull and throwing it back into the corpse behind it.
Private Smith screamed in shock and pain as the corpse he had shot grasped his leg and levered itself up off the ground to sink its teeth into the flesh behind his knee. Smith’s leg buckled and he half fell, bracing himself with his good leg and his elbows against the walls either side.
Behind him a shot rang out and the next corpse took a round in its tattered face.
“Boyo did ye not hear the order to fall back.”
Smith glanced at the face of Private Jones who was just behind him, hands busy reloading.
“Run for it you crazy Welshman!”
“What sort of Welshman would I be if I ran away while an Englishman stood and fought, my da would be turning in his grave with the shame o it.”
The walking corpses reached them and Private Smith set to smashing them back using his rifle as a club while Private Jones loaded and fired as fast as possible. Jones began to sing as loudly as he could and Smith joined in as soon as he recognised the song.
~
Lieutenant Fowler climbed the steep steps to reach the roof of the house he had pushed into; he had held back till the last of his nearby men had made it inside then he had followed using his empty revolver to smash in the skull of a walking corpse that was reaching for his throat. With the door held shut by two men and others dragging what little furniture was available to block the doorway he wanted to see what was happening to the rest of his men.
He could hear someone singing, faintly over the volume of shooting but clearly singing. The lilt of the voice spoke of the green hills of Wales.
“Men of Harlech, on to Glory! See, your banner fa......” The singing cut off with a scream.
Eric Smith, 24. Private. Third Platoon, first company, first battalion, 53rd (Shropshire) Regiment of Foot. Mentioned in dispatched. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Private Smith did, in company with Private Jones of same platoon stand rearguard against overwhelming enemy attack and by giving his life he allowed the remainder of his unit to rejoin their platoon and continue the action against the rebels.
David Jones, 35. Private. Third Platoon, first company, first battalion, 53rd (Shropshire) Regiment of Foot. Mentioned in dispatched. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Private Jones did stand rearguard against overwhelming enemy numbers in protection of Private Smith who was wounded in action and unable to withdraw. He did, by giving his own life, allow the remainder of his unit to rejoin their platoon and continue the action against the rebels. His courage in the face of the enemy was above and beyond that expected of a soldier of Her Majesty’s army.
From the roof he could see the buildings on either side and a number of soldiers who had had the same thought, to reach a safe point above the shambling mob of dead.
At the gate second platoon had had time to form ranks and poured volley after volley down the street, smashing the still walking corpses by the dozen. But still the dead came on.
Two of the Ironsides were still in action, half a dozen soldiers clustered behind them. The group was standing in the mouth of an alley on the left side of the streer, the Ironsides blocking the gap, and the red coats firing past them into the shambling mob, preventing the Ironsides being overrun.
The fourth and last Ironside was nowhere to be seen.
“Sir over there!” The cry came from the next building, closer to the gate. A soldier stood and pointed. The Land Frigate was surrounded by a heaving mass of corpses, pounding at its armour, tearing at the remaining track and climbing upon each other to reach the deck. The lookout stood between the turrets, legs wide spread, swinging his rifle by the barrel, clubbing the dead back as they climbed high enough to reach onto the deck and grasp at his legs.
“Sharpshooters, covering fire for that madman.”
A few shots rang out then more and more as men reached the roof and took in the scene before them. The volume of fire drove back enough of the dead to make the Land Frigates deck safe for the moment.
Joshua Grant. 19. Able seaman. Mentioned in dispatches. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Able seaman Grant volunteered to take post of lookout on the Land Frigate Greyhound during the fighting within the rebel held town of Al Shalish. Under sustained enemy attack he held to his post and alerted the Land Frigate to a rebel counter attack. Greyhound was subsequently able to block this counter attack and prevent second platoon being overrun. Seaman Grant was also instrumental in defending against a rebel boarding against HMLS Greyhound single handedly preventing the enemy gaining a foothold on HMLS Greyhound’s deck.
Then the volume of fire began to fall away as man after man reached into his ammunition pouch to find it empty.
The officers left the meeting after some final planning and split up to rouse their commands for action. By the land frigate a wagon had pulled up and naval ratings were transferring coal and water to the rear compartment.
“Bosun.” Lieutenant Houseman called to the leader of the naval party that had arrived with replacement ammunition, fuel and water.
“I hate to ask this of the men but in amongst these houses we are blind. I want a lookout up behind the stack. Call for volunteers.”
“Aye aye sir.”
The bosun turned to look at the naval ratings deciding which one had made it high enough on his shit list to be ‘volunteered’ for this little job.
~
The force began to form up for the attack, Greyhound with its ‘volunteer’ crouched on top made its way to the base of the ramp up to the fort.
Third platoon was formed up with the Ironsides right behind them. Second platoon was a bit further back with the munitions wagons behind them
First platoon was to be the last infantry unit up the ramp, they deployed in the market square with sharpshooters on the flat roofed buildings ready to provide covering fire.
The quartermaster’s wagons were moved round ready to follow second platoon up the ramp.
Then once everyone was in position General Summerby ordered the attack to begin and the land frigate started up the ramp towards the gatehouse and the final battle. Greyhound began to work her way up the slope, twenty seconds later a mortar round landed in front of the gate and exploded covering the area with dust and shrapnel.
A few rebels appeared on top of the gatehouse or wall to fire at the land frigate or the infantry in the market square but they were quickly driven back behind the wall by the fire of first platoon’s sharpshooters and by a second mortar round that landed behind the gatehouse and exploded engulfing the whole area in shrapnel.
Both six pounders also joined in, firing against the wall above the path leading up the hill to the gate and with the siege mortar dropping rounds behind the wall into the fort the volume of fire directed against Greyhound was minor. A few rounds bounced off the armour leaving no more than smears of lead. The lookout crouched as low as he could manage between the twin maxim turrets, on the narrow path up to the gate his eyes were not needed.
Greyhound slowly made her way up the ramp and reached the top where she slowly and carefully began to turn towards the gate, her rear wheel and track was left hanging out over the edge of the ramp and her front wheel and track hit the corner of the gatehouse. She could not make the turn without backing up and that ran the risk of tipping backwards and going over the side of the ramp. She had to back onto the ramp again.
General Summerby was watching and he quickly sent an order for the six pounders to target the gatehouse. Lieutenant Houseman gave the same order and nearly simultaneously the gatehouse was hit by shells from all three guns. The entire right end of the gatehouse and the gate itself disintegrated and Greyhound was able to drive up and swing round into the newly created gap.
With a grinding of gears and a scream of high pressure steam Greyhound entered the fort and found itself in the main street leading straight to the fortress building itself, On its right there was the first of a line of houses that formed the that side of the street, broken by several alleys. On the left was a narrow gap between the wall and the first of a line of houses that stretched across the fort until they reached the open area in front of the fortress building broken only by a single alley half way down.
The Land frigate paused for a few seconds in the wreckage of the gatehouse then slowly began to advance into the fort. Behind it came the first soldiers of third platoon.
Lieutenant Fowler gestured his first dozen men to follow the Land Frigate then waved one of the sergeants and a few men to cover the alleys on both sides. He then started forward in the tracks of the land frigate as it ground its way forward.
On the left several men were able to enter the gap between the wall and the line of houses; they advanced and found themselves behind the houses in another street that ran toward the open area in front of the fortress.
On the right several men were ordered to check the first alley, part of the closest building had collapsed from a mortar hit and rubble choked the entrance to the narrow passageway, the soldiers had to climb carefully over the loose and shifting bricks while surrounded by clouds of choking dust. The first pair barely had time to shout a warning before the walking corpses were upon them. One soldier was dragged down before he could fire, corpse hands tearing at his face and neck. The other soldier levelled his rifle and fired before he was dragged down by the weight of corpses pulling on his jacket.
The soldiers behind had seconds to respond and fire. Heavy bullets slammed into the closest corpses to no avail and the unlucky pair tried to back away only to push into the soldiers behind them. One died screaming for god, the other died cursing the fools behind him.
Further back soldiers had enough warning to withdraw and by the time the shambling corpses had make their way past the four now dead soldiers the narrow alley was empty and the survivors of the squad had formed up in the street. Every rifle aimed at the alley mouth.
“FIRE.” A single volley rang out and the first few corpses to reach the pile of rubble were cut down. But there were more behind them and they climbed over the rubble and the newly slain walking corpses, tumbling over the rubble and down into the street.
Shouts rang out for help and the next squad through the shattered gate came to aid them, more rifles were added to the volume of fire but the walking corpses still came on, more and more of them blocking the narrow alley with their own bodies.
Then there came an almighty crash and the street and alley were engulfed in smoke and dust and the thundering clanking of Greyhound. The lookout crouched on her upper deck had seen the crisis behind the Land Frigate and had shouted down through the open hatch to Lieutenant Houseman.
Greyhound had been unable to turn around in the street unless she crushed her way through the nearest buildings so she had done just that. Then she had continued through the houses either side of the corpse filled alley. Her mighty tracks and hull crushed scores of the walking corpses and bought precious time. The full might of third platoon had time to form up and the first of the ironsides were advancing up the street to support them.
The walking corpses were no longer trapped in the alley, they could spread out through the shattered houses but they stumbled over the piles of rubble and broken walls making slow and easy targets for the soldiers. Greyhound had thrown a track on one of the brick walls and was now unable to move but both of her maxim turrets faced to her rear and they had clear arcs of fire to the mass of shambling dead.
Still the walking corpses came on, a hundred or more had fallen and yet as many again still advanced. They began to reach the line of soldiers and firing slackened off as men no longer had the time to reload and rifles became clubs. A corporal was dragged down, the soldiers either side of him frantically beating on the walking corpse with their rifle butts. An Ironside advanced to meet the shambling horde and smashed one to the ground with a swing of its left arm. Then it smashed another with the barrel of its right arm mounted cannon and then fired that cannon, the shell punched through multiple corpses. Some were smashed or torn apart, others just knocked to the ground. A corpse tried to grapple the Ironside but the mechanical warrior was powered by steam pistons and wrapped in good steel.
More and more of the shambling dead reached the Ironside and tried to climb onto it, it was being buried in a great pile of moving bodies beyond even its strength to move. The troops behind it had a moment to reload and to fire, reload and fire. One round passed through the arm of a walking corpse and struck the joint between armour plate and steam boiler casing on the Ironsides back. The joint split and a great cloud of high pressure steam burst forth, the closest dead had the flesh boiled from their bones and the great heaving pile of corpses fell apart as damaged corpses collapsed.
Trooper Nathan Clark, 27. Private. Ironside crewman. Mentioned in dispatched. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Killed when the steam boiler of his Ironside ruptured in combat. His actions save the lives of many in his platoon and he gave his life to hold the advance of the rebel forces allowing third platoon time to reorder and reload.
In the main street shouts alerted Lieutenant Fowler that yet more of the walking corpses were coming down the street from the direction of the fortress building.
“FALL BACK, INTO THE BUILDINGS.” Fowlers voice was barely heard by the sergeants and corporals but they took up the shout. Boots, shoulders or rifle butts were used to smash open the doors of the buildings behind the platoon
As many of the soldiers as could do so retreated into the houses, others found themselves trapped on the street and fought on till they were overwhelmed and buried beneath the wave of shambling dead.
~
Further up the street a group of soldiers who had been behind the land frigate found themselves cut off from both the gate and the rest of the platoon by the advancing corpses, they heard the shout but the door to the closest building was at the other end, they had nothing but the narrow gap between houses to retreat into.
Firing as they fell back the small group of soldiers were safe for moments as the corpses advancing from both sides blocked each other in the narrow gap. Then they pushed in and shambled after the soldiers. Private Smith fired into the chest of the closest and it fell at his feet, he had no time to reload so he bought the barrel of his rifle crashing down on the head of the next shambling dead, crushing its skull and throwing it back into the corpse behind it.
Private Smith screamed in shock and pain as the corpse he had shot grasped his leg and levered itself up off the ground to sink its teeth into the flesh behind his knee. Smith’s leg buckled and he half fell, bracing himself with his good leg and his elbows against the walls either side.
Behind him a shot rang out and the next corpse took a round in its tattered face.
“Boyo did ye not hear the order to fall back.”
Smith glanced at the face of Private Jones who was just behind him, hands busy reloading.
“Run for it you crazy Welshman!”
“What sort of Welshman would I be if I ran away while an Englishman stood and fought, my da would be turning in his grave with the shame o it.”
The walking corpses reached them and Private Smith set to smashing them back using his rifle as a club while Private Jones loaded and fired as fast as possible. Jones began to sing as loudly as he could and Smith joined in as soon as he recognised the song.
~
Lieutenant Fowler climbed the steep steps to reach the roof of the house he had pushed into; he had held back till the last of his nearby men had made it inside then he had followed using his empty revolver to smash in the skull of a walking corpse that was reaching for his throat. With the door held shut by two men and others dragging what little furniture was available to block the doorway he wanted to see what was happening to the rest of his men.
He could hear someone singing, faintly over the volume of shooting but clearly singing. The lilt of the voice spoke of the green hills of Wales.
“Men of Harlech, on to Glory! See, your banner fa......” The singing cut off with a scream.
Eric Smith, 24. Private. Third Platoon, first company, first battalion, 53rd (Shropshire) Regiment of Foot. Mentioned in dispatched. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Private Smith did, in company with Private Jones of same platoon stand rearguard against overwhelming enemy attack and by giving his life he allowed the remainder of his unit to rejoin their platoon and continue the action against the rebels.
David Jones, 35. Private. Third Platoon, first company, first battalion, 53rd (Shropshire) Regiment of Foot. Mentioned in dispatched. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Private Jones did stand rearguard against overwhelming enemy numbers in protection of Private Smith who was wounded in action and unable to withdraw. He did, by giving his own life, allow the remainder of his unit to rejoin their platoon and continue the action against the rebels. His courage in the face of the enemy was above and beyond that expected of a soldier of Her Majesty’s army.
From the roof he could see the buildings on either side and a number of soldiers who had had the same thought, to reach a safe point above the shambling mob of dead.
At the gate second platoon had had time to form ranks and poured volley after volley down the street, smashing the still walking corpses by the dozen. But still the dead came on.
Two of the Ironsides were still in action, half a dozen soldiers clustered behind them. The group was standing in the mouth of an alley on the left side of the streer, the Ironsides blocking the gap, and the red coats firing past them into the shambling mob, preventing the Ironsides being overrun.
The fourth and last Ironside was nowhere to be seen.
“Sir over there!” The cry came from the next building, closer to the gate. A soldier stood and pointed. The Land Frigate was surrounded by a heaving mass of corpses, pounding at its armour, tearing at the remaining track and climbing upon each other to reach the deck. The lookout stood between the turrets, legs wide spread, swinging his rifle by the barrel, clubbing the dead back as they climbed high enough to reach onto the deck and grasp at his legs.
“Sharpshooters, covering fire for that madman.”
A few shots rang out then more and more as men reached the roof and took in the scene before them. The volume of fire drove back enough of the dead to make the Land Frigates deck safe for the moment.
Joshua Grant. 19. Able seaman. Mentioned in dispatches. Conspicuous gallantry under unusual circumstances. Able seaman Grant volunteered to take post of lookout on the Land Frigate Greyhound during the fighting within the rebel held town of Al Shalish. Under sustained enemy attack he held to his post and alerted the Land Frigate to a rebel counter attack. Greyhound was subsequently able to block this counter attack and prevent second platoon being overrun. Seaman Grant was also instrumental in defending against a rebel boarding against HMLS Greyhound single handedly preventing the enemy gaining a foothold on HMLS Greyhound’s deck.
Then the volume of fire began to fall away as man after man reached into his ammunition pouch to find it empty.