Even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Even the dreadful martyrdom must run its courseW H Auden
Jack swore. With the Arab cavalry galloping on the flanks, a mass of infantry behind and an unknown force in front, he had led his mounted infantry into a near-impossible situation.
A voice rose from a wadi in front, speaking Arabic. “Volley fire, my children, and don’t hit the British!”
“That’s Colonel Wahiba!” Sarsens said.
“Wahiba!” Jack repeated. He saw a double line of white-uniformed soldiers seemingly rise from the ground and heard the synchronised crackle of a volley. The shots ripped past the mounted infantry to hammer at the Mahdist cavalry.
“Head for the Egyptian flank!” Jack shouted and led the way. Wahiba’s men fired again, a rolling volley that covered the mounted in
