In our last episode, Lieutenant "Dudser" Duffington was captured by the wily Pathan tribes of Katchme Ifya Khan, a native leader of some repute - although it is open to opinion whether the repute was reputable. In response, the British have thrown together a patchwork force and set off to the rescue. They are marching back to the Old Fort intent on returning the Dudser to the regimental glee club - or hanging his hat on the wall in memory at the very least. Unknown to them, strange forces are at work in the area, and scoundrels from afar have arrived to aid the besieged natives.
Ignoring the bellowed orders, metallic crack of rifle-fire, and bloody screams that filled the small courtyard of the Old Fort, Sergeant Ernest Effingword plunged his booted foot through the wooden door of the last building held by the Pathans, and snapped his bayonet-tipped rifle through the doorway into the room. Trained to be prepared for anything, he nevertheless found he was unprepared for what he saw in that dimly lit room.
The first item to attract his attention was a large pair of buttocks clad
in equally large red silk pantaloons, framed in a narrow window directly
in front of him. The owner of the aforementioned buttocks (and
pantaloons one would assume) was otherwise already through the window and
out of sight, except for a rather pumpkinish looking turban which could
be glimpsed bobbing up and down in an apparent attempt to gain enough
momentum to force the last parts of his body through the opening and to
freedom.
Odd, that.
To his right, four fiercely moustached Pathans dropped their jezails with such haste that one of the firing pans snapped off, flying back up into the shin of its owner and causing him to jump up and down on one leg, made all the harder by the fact that he and his friends were strenuously holding the hands above their heads in an eager pantomime of surrender. While it was difficult to be sure, Ernest thought they may have been singing God Save the Queen.
A bit unexpected, that.
To his left, the good sergeant discovered the object of the expedition,
in the person of Lieutenant Dudley Duffington. Ernest thought it rather
exceptional that he was sitting on an immense brocade pillow, his hands
tied in front of him but busy trying to balance a topless dancing girl on
one knee.
"Right, sir, if you don't mind we are here to rescue you."
"Splendid, sergeant! I don't mind admitting I could use a bit of rescuing," his eyes strayed to the nervously squirming package on his knee, "Well, all in good time, of course." Pointing to the fleeing pair of pantalooned buttocks, he explained "That would be the last of Katchme Ifya Khan and his chiefs that we'll see, I'll warrant! They had to leave certain, er, valuables here of course. Now, let's see how things are going outside, shall we?"
By the time the pair strode out into the courtyard, chorusing captives
and coquettish companion in tow, the battle was over. British redcoats
were occupying the Old Fort, while a small detachment of Sudanese
infantry rested in a small garden and a platoon of marines policed the
area outside the walls. The lieutenant looked quizzically at the
sergeant, "I may have taken a bit of a knock to the head, but aren't we
in Afghanistan?"
"Right you are, sir."
"Then isn't it rather surprising to find marines in the middle of the parched wastes?"
"Well, sir, I can't speak to that, but they wandered into camp and wanted to make themselves useful, so we took them along on the outing. They did a good job of advancing up the right flank and holding off the Africans while we of the regular infantry, with went up the middle towards the fort."
"Of course - the Africans did you say?"
"Well, yes sir, that did seem a bit odd. It appears that there were several groups of African deserters led by rogue British soldiers, who had come to help the Pathans. Me mum always did say the world was getting smaller and smaller these days."
"Quite right she was, sergeant. I can't help but wonder about the Sudanese there as well..."
"Well, those fellows did a right splendid job of advancing ahead of the
main column, and scouted out a couple groups of Pathans and sent them
tumbling back. Truth to tell they were the first to the fort's walls.
Of course, by then their camels had run off."
"Of course - did you says camels?"
"Just so, sir. It seems we must be closer to the Red Sea than we thought, or the Blue Nile, or some such coloured waterway. One can't trust the coloured's, sir, even coloured waterways."
And so it was that the rescue force, led by the resolute Lieutenant Bernhard "Barmy Barnie" Buffington and Lieutenant Sir Cornelius ("Lord Corky") Coriander III, scattered the tribes of Katchme Ifya Khan and their treacherous African allies led by Blackheart McKenzie, and affected the rescue of Lieutenant Dudley "Dudser" Duffington.
As described by the good sergeant, the battle featured the main British column advancing straight to the Old Fort, covered on the right flank by the marines and on the left by the Sudanese. The Sudanese discovered a Pathan ambush early in the advance and put them to flight, chasing them along the flank and discovering another ambush party in the process. They succeeded in driving off both groups, although their small detachment of camels was fairly shot up, and then fought off a group of Africans who had occupied the fort walls. Although the Sudanese lost their nerve in the general charge on the fort, by this time the bulk of the redcoats had arrived and were charging into the courtyard, where they engaged in a confused melee with Pathans charging from the buildings and Africans charging from the nearby hills. The marines had held off these Africans for most of the game on a series of hills to the right of the fort, but in the end it seemed every unit in the game was thrown into the fort. In one turn, the prolonged battle of ambush was over, and the British held the field.
The Pathans were very hurt by the Limited Ammunition rules we tried out for the game, and the general consensus was that the rule had unbalanced the game for them. However, the failure of the Pathans to keep a hold of the fort itself, which caused the Africans to be rushed into the courtyard, was probably the deciding factor. All in all, more ammunition and more terrain to maneuver in would have helped the Pathans very much, as the general route of the advance was clear and they had limited opportunities to weaken the British with ambush fire. Believe it or not, the end of the game was just as Sergeant Effingword described it!
Editor's note: All the pictures.
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Copyright 2003-2021 Mikko Kurki-Suonio
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