Chapter 17

Four days later he was sitting in the suite of the Royal Hotel Karachi, listening to Mr. Smithers.

“You are in luck Mr. Ramage. You are again booked on the Comet. It sails tomorrow. You will find your ticket and documents here in the briefcase along with £750 for your out-of-pocket expenses. When you return, inform me in the usual manner and I shall arrange things at this end. It only remains for me to wish you a pleasant and successful voyage.”

During the long voyage, David had time to reflect on his life now. Over the past five months never a day had passed without some incident or problem requiring his physical attention or mental consideration. The day-to-day requirements of creating the regiment, and the sheer size of the obstacles and planning needed to accomplish it had left very little time for David to consider his own life. Now, for the first time since coming to Kanda he had time to reflect.

His life had changed dramatically since accepting the Prince’s commission. Financially, he was secure for the first time in his life, although that somehow didn’t matter as much as the fact that he was responsible for the lives of one hundred and eighty-four men and the many more that seemed certain to be recruited to their ranks in the future. That was important and did matter. He respected what the Prince had done for his people and sympathised with his efforts to remain outside the clutches of the British Raj, whilst at the same time ensuring his people were protected from the ravages of the Afghans.

On the personal side David realised he had a good life. He had comfortable quarters, and Hanga to look after his needs. He had Khan and Sulkie, who he adored. The only significant thing missing was a woman in his life.

David gave a start. Why had he thought that? He’d not thought of women since Samantha, and that was over three years ago. He could still see her in his mind’s eye: Tall and slender with blond hair and startling blue eyes. He had met her in Amritsar when his company was stationed there. She was the daughter of a wealthy merchant who had a grand home in the hills above the town. She and her mother had journeyed there from England to see her father. To pacify the mother’s dislike of India, her husband had organised balls at his home to which the officers of the regiment had been invited.

He had been infatuated by her at first sight, and although there had been plenty of others vying for her attention, she seemed to be attracted to him. He had begun seeing her whenever duty allowed. He had finally kissed her and she returned his kiss. He knew she was returning with her mother to England, so a week before they were due to go he had asked her to marry him. She had laughed as if he were joking. She explained that, as much as she had enjoyed his company, he had served his only purpose in her life by making her stay in this tedious country bearable. The experience had closed David’s heart to women.

He knew his fellow officers saw Indian girls or even had Indian mistresses, but while many were beautiful, he had never succumbed to the temptation. Not that the colour would have mattered to him, but if he had married one his career in the Army would have been over. He pushed the thoughts from his mind.

Unlike his first mission, he had nothing to refer to this time. The hunting magazines purchased in Karachi had been the primary source to lead him to Cartwright & Sons during his first trip to England on the Prince’s business. Still, his suppliers represented an active relationship with a company engaged in weapons manufacturing. He would contact Henry Cartwright he decided. Perhaps he would know of current developments in rapid-firing weapons and artillery, or direct him to someone who did.

The Comet nosed into her berth on a cold, foggy, early November Friday morning. Southampton’s waters echoed to ghostly sounds of foghorns and the movements of ships obscured by the damp fog. The train journey to London was uneventful, the fog pursuing him into London itself.

David produced the Prince’s letter upon his arrival at the Astor Hotel, and was shown into his suite by the manager himself. The banks being closed at the weekends, he left his unpacking for later and took a hansom cab around to the bank, presenting himself to Mr. Tompkins, the Bank Manager. He had coffee with him whilst a chequebook and covering document were prepared.

Once back at the Astor, he put a telephone call through to Henry Cartwright, asking if he could visit him on the Monday and briefly outlining the questions to which he was seeking answers. Henry insisted that he should stay with him and, further, he should come up to Birmingham the following day.

Upon arrival at the Cartwright home, a maid ushered him into the parlour where Henry was sitting with his pretty wife and two children: both boys, who looked to be eight and ten. After introductions, Henry informed him that his wife, Gladys, and their sons, Robert and Richard, were just about to go out to visit Henry’s father.

Gladys showed him to his room. After refreshing himself and changing his clothes, he returned downstairs to find, as expected, that Gladys and the boys were gone. As David re-entered the room, he found Henry standing before the welcome heat of a roaring coal fire. Seeing David, he crossed to a cabinet, and poured drinks for them, indicating that David should sit down. David began by telling him of the success of the Cartwright .303 rifles and cartridges. He went into detail about the conditions at the Pass and the engagements with the Afghans.

Henry asked about the Russian rifles, saying, after David’s description, that they sounded like a copy of the French Lebel. David went on to explain about the Pass being blocked during the winter until March or April, and his fears of a major Afghan assault when it re-opened; an assault almost certainly supported and motivated by the Russians. David then described his thoughts about how that assault could feasibly be launched with some expectations of success on the part of the Afghans and their Russian allies.

Henry sat quietly contemplating what David had said. “I’m not too well informed about artillery developments,” he admitted, “but there has been talk about a man called Maxim, an American, who it is claimed has invented an automatic firing gun which utilizes the recoil of the weapon to load the next round. The Gatling gun and its copies uses a hand cranking mechanism to fire it. Peter is more up to date in that field than I am.” David knew Peter from testing the rifle and developing its ammunition. “I’ll get him to come around tomorrow, and we can pick his brains,” Henry added.

The following afternoon Peter was shown into Henry’s study, where Henry and David awaited him. David recounted the actions at the Pass ending with his fears for the future. Peter listened intently, before responding, “From what you have described, David, the only weapons that are currently available that would seem to pose a real threat to your troops would be mortars. If they use howitzers, the shell is likely to explode some distance beyond this buttress you talk about, due the arc of its trajectory.