Rorkes Drift ...Zulu War

1879: The Anglo-Zulu war begins in southern Africa when British troops invade Zululand over a border dispute.
1895: The National Trust is set up to preserve and protect landscapes of beauty or historic interest.
1970: Civil war ends in Nigeria with the capitulation of breakaway Biafra, following more than one million deaths.


Introduction
On 22 January 1879, at Rorke's Drift on the Natal border with Zululand, in South Africa, a tiny British garrison of 140 men - many of them sick and wounded - fought for 12 hours to repel repeated attacks by up to 3,000 Zulu warriors. This heroic defence was rewarded by Queen Victoria's government with no fewer than 11 Victoria Crosses, and was later immortalised by the film Zulu (1964), directed by Cy Endfield.


Few ... remember that it was fought on the same day that the British Army suffered its most humiliating defeat ...
Few, however, remember that it was fought on the same day that the British Army suffered its most humiliating defeat at nearby Isandlwana. Why? Because it suited those responsible for the disaster to exaggerate the importance of Rorke's Drift in the hope of reducing the impact of Isandlwana.

The true story of 22 January 1879 - the Empire's longest day - is one of unprovoked slaughter, of heroes being ignored and of the guilty being protected. And the responsibility for this lay with Queen Victoria herself.

An unnecessary war
Benjamin Disraeli © Like so many imperial conflicts of the period, the Zulu War was not initiated from London. Instead, Benjamin Disraeli's government - preoccupied with the Russian threat to Constantinople and Afghanistan - made every effort to avoid a fight. 'We cannot now have a Zulu war, in addition to other greater and too possible troubles', wrote Sir Michael Hicks Beach, the colonial secretary, in November 1878.

The man to whom this letter was addressed - Sir Bartle Frere - had others ideas, however. Frere had been sent out to to Cape Town with the specific task of grouping South Africa's hotch-potch of British colonies, Boer republics and independent black states into a Confederation of South Africa. But he quickly realised that the region could not be unified under British rule until the powerful Zulu kingdom - with its standing army of 40,000 disciplined warriors - had been suppressed.

So he exaggerated the threat posed by the Zulus to the British, and, when the home government refused to sanction war, took matters into his own hands in December 1878 by presenting the Zulu king, Cetshwayo, with an unacceptable ultimatum. This required, among other things, the disbandment of the Zulu Army, and war was the inevitable result.


Such unilateral action by an imperial pro-consul was not unusual during the Victorian period.
Such unilateral action by an imperial pro-consul was not unusual during the Victorian period. So great were the distances involved, and so slow the methods of communication, that British governors often took it upon themselves to start wars and annex provinces.

Lord Lytton, the Viceroy of India, was about to invade Afghanistan without reference to London. But the Zulu conflict was unique in that it was to be the last pre-emptive war launched by the British, prior to the recent campaign in Iraq.
 
Isandlwana
Lord Chelmsford, c.1870 © The war began on 11 January 1879, when the 5,000-strong main British column invaded Zululand at Rorke's Drift. It was commanded by the ambitious Lord Chelmsford, a favourite of the Queen, who had little respect for the fighting qualities of the Zulu. 'If I am called upon to conduct operations against them,' he wrote in July 1878, 'I shall strive to be in a position to show them how hopelessly inferior they are to us in fighting power, altho' numerically stronger.'

This dangerous mixture of self-confidence and contempt for their foes infected the whole British force. But their misjudgement came to rebound on them badly.

By 20 January - hampered by minor skirmishes and poor tracks - Chelmsford's column had only advanced 11 miles to the rocky lower slopes of a distinctive, sphinx-like hill called Isandlwana. There it set up camp. But at 4am on 22 January, Chelmsford made the first of a series of blunders by taking two-thirds of his force off to pursue what he believed was the main Zulu army.

He was convinced that the Zulus were gathering to the south-east, and so failed to reconnoitre adequately the broken ground to the north-east. There, lying in wait just five miles from the exposed camp at Isandlwana, were 20,000 Zulu warriors.

At around 8am, mounted vedettes reported large numbers of Zulus on the high ground to the left of the camp. Colonel Pulleine, in command at Isandlwana, dashed off a quick note to Chelmsford, reading: 'Report just come in that the Zulus are advancing in force from Left front of Camp.' Chelmsford read it shortly after 9.30am, and he returned it to his staff officer, Major Clery, without a word, and would not be deflected from his original plan.


This dangerous mixture of self-confidence and contempt for their foes infected the whole British force.
At 11am, by which time the 1,300 men remaining in the camp had been swelled by 450 reinforcements, mounted scouts stumbled upon the concealed Zulu impi. Realising they had been spotted, the Zulus rose as one and began their attack, using their traditional tactic of encirclement known as the izimpondo zankomo ('horns of the buffalo').

An hour later, as the hard-pressed British defenders fought for their lives, a portion of Chelmsford's force at Mangeni Falls received word that the camp was in danger of being overrun. On his own initiative a Colonel Harness gave orders for his small force of artillery and infantry to return to camp. But it had only progressed half a mile when a staff officer rode up with express orders from Chelmsford to resume its original march because the message was a false alarm. The last chance to save the camp had been thrown away.

By 3pm, despite severe losses, the Zulus had captured the camp. The culmination of Chelmsford's incompetence was a blood-soaked field littered with thousands of corpses. Of the original 1,750 defenders - 1,000 British and 750 black auxiliaries - 1,350 had been killed.

The cover-up
Queen Victoria © Word of the disaster reached Britain on 11 February 1879. The Victorian public was dumbstruck by the news that 'spear-wielding savages' had defeated the well equipped British Army. The hunt was on for a scapegoat, and Chelmsford was the obvious candidate. But he had powerful supporters.

On 12 March 1879 Disraeli told Queen Victoria that his 'whole Cabinet had wanted to yield to the clamours of the Press, & Clubs, for the recall of Ld. Chelmsford'. He had, however, 'after great difficulty carried the day'. Disraeli was protecting Chelmsford not because he believed him to be blameless for Isandlwana, but because he was under intense pressure to do so from the Queen.

Meanwhile Lord Chelmsford was urgently burying all the evidence that could be used against him. He propagated the myth that a shortage of ammunition led to defeat at Isandlwana. He ensured that potential witnesses to his errors were unable to speak out. Even more significantly, he tried to push blame for the defeat onto Colonel Durnford, now dead, claiming that Durnford had disobeyed orders to defend the camp.


Many generals blunder in war, but few go to such lengths to avoid responsibility.
The truth is that no orders were ever given to Durnford to take command. Chelmsford's behaviour, in retrospect, is unforgivable. Many generals blunder in war, but few go to such lengths to avoid responsibility.
 
A standard Brit army defense of the period was the 'zeriba' which was a protective ring of tangled brushwood (preferably thorny) around the perimeter, but it looks like the commander at Isandhlwana didn't order one to be set up, so he has to take some blame because it meant the Zulus could charge straight into the Brit camp with nothing to stop them.
Or maybe there wasn't any brushwood available in the area, I don't know.
 
Speaking of lax security, I know of some British-based military establishments that are a bloody disgrace, I contacted the base commanders to point out their serious security loopholes but got fobbed off with these letters in reply, (I've greyed out the locations etc because I'm security-conscious even if they aren't).

SecurityB1.jpg


SecurityA1.jpg
 
All credit to to you POS for your efforts mate, like every thing
these day they are going to wait until there is a breach in there
security and then perhaps they might just do some thing about it
keep you your pen ready and when it happens you can say I told
you so.

I have a friend who lives just up the road and he regularly is pointing
out the problems that go on in the community, sadly he is not a gamer
I think if he was you to could have fun.
 
.. like every thing
these day they are going to wait until there is a breach in there
security and then perhaps they might just do some thing about it..

Yes, it's called 'tombstone technology'.
The Brit armed forces have got a few very good top brass, but most of the rest couldn't run a whelk stall; i've been blowing the whistle on 'em for years.
My best victory was 30 years ago when I exposed the fact that Brit APC's in Northern Ireland weren't bullet-proof, the Sun ran the story in headlines on the front page.
More recently i've been raising a stink about the lack of helicopters for our boys in Afghanistan, and the criminally-negligent bad tactics used by our brass, it's a pathetic shambles.
 
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