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One question our table failed to answer was about a recipient of the Victoria Cross who is buried in Chiswick. Turned out to be one of the eleven men to be awarded the Victoria Cross for his part in the Battle of Rorke’s Drift, the January 1879 encounter immortalised in Zulu (“Steady, lad!”). No single engagement has resulted in the award of so many VCs. Private Frederick Hitch is buried near us in the graveyard of St Nicholas’s Church, Chiswick. He’s the young man seen briefly at 5’12” emptying a canteen of water over his head in this video made up of scenes from the film:
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Apart from his splendid grave, Hitch is commemorated by an English Heritage blue plaque on his old house at 62 Cranbrook Road (see above).
I was just reading about Hitch on the internet this afternoon when I noticed that E.F. Bartlam had posted a new article on his Flimsy Cups blog (read it here), about how he and his son yesterday conducted a battle between British soldiers and Zulu warriors using model soldiers. I realise that scientists generally dismiss Jung’s concept of Synchronicity – the idea of two events unrelated by cause seemingly coming together in a meaningful manner – but, then again, scientists also believe in Anthropogenic Global Warming, so what do they know?
At the very least, it’s a striking coincidence.
I don’t know if British children are allowed (or have any interest in) imagining the sort of battles that marked their nation’s colonial past, but it’s nice to learn that there’s a kid in Mississippi doing it. (By the way, the Zulus won last night – again!)
Fitch lost his medal (the circumstances are disputed) and had to buy a replacement. The original came up for auction after he died, and his sons scraped the £85 together to buy it. His Victoria Cross – and its replacement – are now in the museum of the 24th Regiment of Foot in Brecon.
Our table came a creditable second in last night's quiz. We always seem to come second. I'm beginning to suspect this may be my fault, because it certainly isn't my wife's.
We had a rematch yesterday. The Boy learns quickly...he added an extra company of British regulars. His flanks were mauled but held and the Zulu's were routed.
ReplyDeleteThis all started two years ago when I got fed up with watching Toy Story 3. I forced him and his cousins to sit down and watch Zulu.
It's an easy interest for him to indulge in our house. These are my interests but, he's taken to them with his own passion.
A serving soldier who has served in Iraq and Aghanistan and who's a member of our congregation gave a talk during last week's church service and - inevitably - cited "Zulu" as a major influence on his life. I suspect that film, "The Great Escape" and "The Dambusters" have done more to shape the moral outlook of today's middle-aged British chap than all the spoutings of the wet, hand-wringing lefties who "lead" the Anglican Church put together!
DeleteDo let us know what happens in your son's re-staging of the Anglo-Zulu War. Perhaps he'll eventually manage to reverse the result at isandlwana.
ReplyDeleteZULU (The battle of Rorke's Drift) by Alan Gray
"Zulu's attacking, hundreds Sir" the sentry did report
"Hundreds?" said Bromhead glass to his eye
"Dear chap you missed off a nought !"
So swiftly they came where none stood before
out of the grass they appeared
Big giant fellows muscled and lithe
Banging hide shields with short handled spears
Transfixed by the sight fear in our eyes
the Sergeant cried out "fix bayonets"
"You're British" he said "let's see some pride"
and my heart danced a jig in my tunic
The order "fire !" was barked in our ears
Brave Zulu's fell like Martyrs
Our barrels glowed with bullets expelled
and the Boer said "that's for starters"
Words rang true relentless they came
engulfing the red with the brown
The blood of the brave was spilt on that day
like seeds on hallowed ground
Night brought respite exhausted we lay
nursing our wounds like sick dogs
Zulu's had gone quick as the came
drifting away like a fog
Morning came like a thief in the night
stealing our dreams as we slept
Brave were the men who stood for the fight
so few seemed so inept
For as the sun crept over the hills
and warmed us with his breath
Ten thousand Zulu we espied swathed in silhouette
Hearts they sank from our mouths to our boots
as we looked on with intrepid fear
When an old Zulu chief from afar waved his shield
we sensed that our ending was near
Then strange things occured, did the Lord intervene
or was it a dream we implored
For the Zulu's turned from the front to the rear
leaving us lonely standing in awe
Up went a cheer gallant men wept
for the pure gift of life they received
"Bloody British" the old Boer muttered
It's heroes they've reprieved, it's heroes they've reprieved...
Hi, I wrote this a few year ago. Hope you can use it...best wishes, Alan
Thank you very much for posting your stirring poem Alex - much appreciated.
DeleteThank you Scott, appreciated Great site by the way...Alan
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