RPAGF 15. Sholingur Camp
15. Sholingur Camp
Lieutenant Colonel Heywood immediately summoned all officers and issued an order for an urgent march.
All soldiers organized their equipment, treated lightly wounded soldiers, and seriously wounded soldiers were escorted by medics and two soldiers to try to keep up with the main force.
The bodies of the fallen soldiers were collected, marked, and properly buried after they were reunited with the main force.
From now on, reduce rest time. Only rest for 15 minutes every two hours of marching, replenish a small amount of water and dry food, and be sure to speed up so as to rejoin the main force as soon as possible.
The order was quickly relayed.
Although the British soldiers, who had just fought, were exhausted, not one of them raised any objections or complained.
The recent skirmish made the soldiers acutely aware of the dangers of this land, and it also made them more eager to rejoin the main force. Only by gathering together could they gain enough security and avoid being ambushed again.
The soldiers sprang into action; some gathered scattered rifles and ammunition, some helped their wounded comrades, and some silently collected the bodies of their fallen comrades, without uttering a single word.
Tom looked at Dugan and said, "Such a forced march, Major, you..."
Tom's meaning was clear: can you, a young master, handle such a high-intensity march?
Dugan shook his head, his gaze falling on the soldiers ahead, fully equipped and ready to march. His tone was calm yet firm: "The soldiers are working harder than I am. Speeding up the march and joining the main force as soon as possible is the safest course of action."
"Yes, Major!"
A moment later, the team was fully prepared.
Lieutenant Colonel Haywood mounted his horse and shouted, "All troops, move out! Speed up! Headquarters at Schollingur Camp!"
The group slowly set off, heading deeper into the desert.
The scorching wind continued to howl, whipping up clouds of red dust that pelted the soldiers' faces and bodies. Exhaustion washed over them like a tidal wave, making every step feel exceptionally heavy.
Many soldiers had chapped and peeling lips, and their collars and backs were soaked with sweat. Their pace gradually slowed, but no one stopped moving forward.
According to the agreed plan, the team would rest for only 15 minutes by the roadside every two hours of travel.
During the rest period, the soldiers quickly drank a few sips of water and ate a few bites of dry rations. There was no extra time to rest, and they didn't even have time to wipe the red dirt and sweat off their faces before they had to set off again.
During breaks, medics changed bandages and applied ointments to wounded soldiers, their movements swift and efficient, as if afraid of delaying the march.
Dugan and Tom followed in the middle of the group, keeping an eye on their surroundings and the condition of the soldiers as they moved forward.
"Major, look, the soldiers are exhausted, but their morale is high." Tom lowered his voice, his tone filled with admiration. "If it were any other unit, after such a brutal ambush, having to march at a forced pace, there would probably be complaints by now."
Dugan nodded slightly, a hint of approval in his eyes: "Why do people say the army is where boys are turned into men?"
Lieutenant Colonel Haywood led the way, while Major McKenzie followed at the rear, constantly patrolling the ranks to ensure no one fell behind.
As the sun gradually set in the west, it cast long shadows of the soldiers. On the reddish-brown desert, a weary but determined column of soldiers was making its way towards the Schöringeur camp.
The scorching wind continued to blow, sending red dust flying everywhere, and the soldiers' footsteps and heavy breathing echoed in the vast desert.
The hurried march continued throughout the afternoon in the desert. The sun gradually sank below the horizon, dyeing the sky a deep orange-red, which then slowly faded, replaced by a deep navy blue.
Dugan took the makeshift map from Tom and examined it carefully in the dim light. He said to Lieutenant Colonel Haywood beside him, "Lieutenant Colonel Haywood, according to the map, we are still a full day and night's journey away from the Schollingur camp. It's getting late, and visibility in the desert is extremely poor at night. Continuing to march will easily lead to losing our way and increasing the risk of being ambushed. We should set up camp and rest near the village of Heimshorth marked ahead, and continue our journey early tomorrow morning."
Haywood leaned closer and nodded in agreement: "A night march is too risky, and the soldiers are exhausted and definitely need rest. Let's do as you say, set up camp near the village of Hemshorth, arrange for guards, and ensure safety for the night."
Once the two had reached an agreement, Haywood immediately gave a loud order to adjust the direction of the group and head towards the village of Hemshorth.
As night deepened, the evening breeze slightly dispelled the daytime heat, but still carried the dry scent of the red earth. The outlines of distant villages appeared and disappeared in the night, and the scattered lights were like fireflies in the dark, faint yet offering a sense of comfort.
Half an hour later, the group arrived at an open area near the village of Heimshorth.
The terrain here is flat, with a low earthen slope on one side for easy vigilance, and several sturdy locust trees on the other side to provide some shade from the night.
Lieutenant Colonel Heywood immediately deployed a guard duty team, dividing soldiers into three shifts to take turns guarding the area around the camp.
At the same time, he ordered the soldiers to quickly set up makeshift tents, settle the wounded comrades, distribute a small amount of dry rations and drinking water, and take a break.
Dugan and Tom also set up a simple tent, which was not big, but enough to keep out the cool of the night.
Tom skillfully started a small campfire, the flickering flames driving away the surrounding darkness and mosquitoes, and bringing a touch of warmth.
In the camp, most of the soldiers were exhausted. After quickly finishing their dry rations, they curled up in their tents and fell into a deep sleep. Their heavy snores mingled with the crackling of the campfire, making them particularly clear in the quiet night.
The wounded soldiers gradually fell asleep under the care of the medics, and the pain on their faces eased slightly.
Lieutenant Colonel Haywood and Major McKenzie continued their work without rest, moving between camps, inspecting guard posts, and reminding the soldiers on duty to be vigilant and ensure a safe night.
As night deepened and a gentle breeze blew, the village of Heimshorth was completely silent, with no unusual sounds or signs of an enemy attack.
Dugan leaned against the tent, closed his eyes to rest, reviewing the day's encounter in his mind and thinking about the report to be given after arriving at the camp. Before he knew it, he had fallen into a light sleep.
The night passed uneventfully. As dawn broke, the first rays of sunlight pierced through the darkness, illuminating the campsite and dispelling the chill of the night.
The soldiers on duty remained steadfast in their posts, their expressions vigilant, only relaxing their guard slightly as dawn broke.
Lieutenant Colonel Haywood was the first to stand up, ordering the soldiers to organize their equipment, dismantle their tents, eat some dry rations and replenish their water, and then continue their march toward Camp Schollingur.
After a night's rest, the soldiers' fatigue eased slightly, and their steps were a bit lighter than yesterday.
Although it is still hot, the red soil is still flying everywhere.
"If we just hold on for another half day, we'll reach the camp, rejoin the main force, and get ample supplies and rest," Lieutenant Colonel Haywood and Major McKenzie shouted back and forth in the ranks, encouraging the soldiers.
Dugan and Tom followed in the middle of the group. Tom would occasionally point into the distance, explaining the terrain along the way to Dugan and telling him that they were getting closer to the camp.
As the sun rose higher, its scorching rays once again enveloped the earth. At noon, the outline of a neat camp finally appeared on the distant horizon.
That was the Schöringeur camp. The camp was surrounded by low earthen walls, flags fluttered in the wind, and soldiers in red uniforms moved about inside and outside the camp. From a distance, it presented a scene of strict security and good order.
"The camp! It's the Sholingur camp!" A cheer rang out from the ranks, followed by cheers from more soldiers. Long-lost smiles appeared on their tired faces, and their pace quickened as they ran towards the camp.
Lieutenant Colonel Haywood raised his hand to signal the troops to slow down, straighten their ranks, maintain British military discipline, and head towards the camp gate.
When the soldiers on duty at the camp gate saw the group approaching, they immediately went up to inquire. Upon learning that it was the 2nd Battalion of the 94th Infantry Regiment, they quickly let them pass and sent someone to the battalion headquarters to inform Colonel Stevenson.