THE GALLANT THREE HUNDRED.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 18 September 1914, Page 8

THE GALLANT THREE HUNDRED.

Any schoolboy can tell you how the "Noble Six Hundred" rushed into the "Valley of Death at Balaclava,"—the maddest and most splendid feat in the annals of war —but how many to-day know the story ,of the charge of the gallant three hundred, who, a few hours

earlier, flung themselves at the Russian hordes with a valour equally great and glorious ? The curtain rises on this thrilling episode in the 'Crimean War on the grey, chilly dawn of October "20, 185!. .Seldom have British soldiers faced such fearful odds. On the heights above them, a dense, menacing mass, were three thousand of Russia's finest horseman, outnumbering them by ten to one, and with all the advantage of position; but even at this point, with the apparently hopeless task before them, every man in the British line was convulsed with laughter as, down the hill, in panic flight, raced hundreds of red-fezed Turks, pursued by the flash of Cossack swords. But there was little time for merriment, and as the Russian cavalry, with the thunder of hoofs, bore down upon them, laughter died on their lips. Every javv was set with firm resolve to stem that torrent or die in the attempt. The voice of their colonel, that gallant old warrior, Sir Colin Campbell, rang out in stern accents : "Ninety-ftiird—Ninety-third ! D all that eagerness. Remember," he added, as he rode down the line, "there is no retreat from here, meat. You must die where you stand." And with one voice came the thundering answer, "Ay, ay, Sir Colin, we'll do that." And they did. On they went, with Sir James Yorke Scarlett, ruddy-faced and white-haired, leading the way. " 'To the charge,' and*he rode on ahead, as he waved his blade To the Callant Three Hundred, whose glory will never fade."