Zulu Rebuff, 1879. January 22nd.

They will come over
Hill Shihane.
Already we hear
footsteps running.
Relentless like
Some locomotive.
Running miles and miles.
Unwinded.
And then without pause.
Warfare with
Damnable cunning.
And cat-like agility.


Chief Engineer Chard
Has wasted no time
With barricades of
Mealie bags.
Distributing guns
And bayonets
And cartridges.
Even to sick in Hospital.
And Basuto allies.


The main points
Hospital, storehouse
Cattle Kraal.
And stacked barriers
Uniting
In a ten o’clock
Four o’clock fashion
Chest high.
 

They are chinking
Peep holes in all walls.
Rapid shot at close range.
When that comes.


Missionary Witt has tried
Convincing of retreat.
Pleading against violence.
The Good Book.
But Bromhead and Chard
Will have none of it.


Surgeon Reynolds
Making ready
Miles of stitching thread.
Cloths, basins, scalpels.


Face looks to face
As brothers readying
Their last.
Field Cries and songs
And shield banging.
Intended to terrify.
But having opposite effect.


For the holding of
Rorke’s Drift Mission.
By the Queen’s own.
Once an Irishman’s happy farm.
On open spaces
By River Buffalo, Natal.


Four thousand and more of them.
Athletic. Incensed.
Cunning.
Brown skins battering.
Like the greatest of
Hunting, hiding creatures.


While Welshmen in red
Sing out their hope.
And Psalms.


Dutch horsemen
Rode right through
Declining service.
Leaving the Jack
Fluttering behind.
A paltry courageous few.
Waiting. Smoking
Red eyes fixed
Upward.
Leaning on rifles.