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kevbone

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watch the movie "zulu" - you get your answer somewhere near hour 2 i think

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zulu,zulu,zulu,zulu,zulu,zulu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

actually, it's:

 

Usuthu!Usuthu!Usuthu!Usuthu!Usuthu!Usuthu!Usuthu!Usuthu!

 

"the washing of the spears" - sweet book (except the godawful long chapter on the history of the anglican church in south africa :noway:

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i feel like i need to raise my hand before i reply to your post.....

remember class, there are no stupid questions, only stupid people

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Please explain!

 

It's your aura.

Go to the expo and get it photographed.

http://www.bmse.net/bmse2008/expodetails.php?expo_id=107

 

You'll see what I mean.

 

 

Debbie Smith

 

Charting Your Life

If you ever think about the events in your life and wonder why certain things happen to some people and not to others, you will not want to miss this intriguing lecture. Debbie Smith brings you a lively discussion of exactly how we created the plan that determines what we do in this lifetime. Debbie leads a guided meditation journey to the other side, where you may read your own plan. Debbie studied under Sylva Browne and Novus Spiritus accepting the mantle of a Mystical Traveler. Come meet this internationally known psychic

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Don't worry, life is ultimately meaningless and without purpose. We're just tiny little insignifigant specs clinging to a giant mudball, twirling endlessly through the void. It'll all be over soon enough. Just enjoy the ride, and be grateful that you probably won't get what you really deserve.

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watch the movie "zulu" - you get your answer somewhere near hour 2 i think

That's a fuq'n great movie. I still think it's Michael Caine's best work, even if it was his big break into film in '64.

 

I have a friend who visited Rorke's Drift. He said it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. I had a similar experience in the Devil's Den at Gettysburg. That shite is weird.

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watch the movie "zulu" - you get your answer somewhere near hour 2 i think

That's a fuq'n great movie. I still think it's Michael Caine's best work, even if it was his big break into film in '64.

 

I have a friend who visited Rorke's Drift. He said it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. I had a similar experience in the Devil's Den at Gettysburg. That shite is weird.

great movie but needing a remake for the fighting scenes are silly, silly, silly :) also, once you read "the washing of the spears" you realize the epic film is 90% hog-warsh

 

i miss living near civil war battlefields - drinking a golf-course pack while walking them is a good way to spend an afternoon!

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great movie but needing a remake for the fighting scenes are silly, silly, silly :)
Please explain - they had to reshoot the battle scenes?? WTF??

 

also, once you read "the washing of the spears" you realize the epic film is 90% hog-warsh
Please explain - haven't read it. Prolly won't ever get the time. Cliff notes, plz?

 

i miss living near civil war battlefields - drinking a golf-course pack while walking them is a good way to spend an afternoon!

Amen to that. Gettysburg, Bull Run/Manassas, Fredericksburg, Antietam/Sharpsburg, Shiloh, Harper's Ferry, the list goes on and on...

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great movie but needing a remake for the fighting scenes are silly, silly, silly :)
Please explain - they had to reshoot the battle scenes?? WTF??

 

also, once you read "the washing of the spears" you realize the epic film is 90% hog-warsh
Please explain - haven't read it. Prolly won't ever get the time. Cliff notes, plz?

 

i miss living near civil war battlefields - drinking a golf-course pack while walking them is a good way to spend an afternoon!

Amen to that. Gettysburg, Bull Run/Manassas, Fredericksburg, Antietam/Sharpsburg, Shiloh, Harper's Ferry, the list goes on and on...

the up-close fighting scenes are silly - the bayonents are made of rubber and wobble - there is no blood, no wounds (save 1 moment when they blew the budget on a 2 dollar bottle of ketchup :) ) - the british enfield rifle shoot a 45 caliber bullet that put giant gaping holes in zules, but you get no sense of that - nor do you of the zulu's awful, ritualistic habit of disemboweling people after they killed them (it was believed that if they did not release the dead man's soul (which lives in the entrails) that his ghost would haunt them for the rest of their lives (zulu warriors had the period of one moon before they also had to return to their home hearth and "wash their spear" in order to prevent haunting - this was actually a useful superstition, in the grand sense, in that it necessarily limited the length of combat operations because the whole army (or impi) would mutiny if not allowed to go home a month after a war started)

 

zulu culture is actually quite fascinating and the book worth reading, w/ the caveat that you must skip any portions related to the history of the white-folks in south africa, which is dreary :(

 

as for the inaccuracies in the film, in brief: there was no dissension between the 2 officers at rorke's drift, the zulus tried no grand strategy but just attacked pell-mell on all sides, the reverend witt (and his daughter) were not present, the british shot most of the "keffirs" in the back when they ran away at the onset of the battle, and there was no second day of the battle (and thus, none of the "we salute you" nonsense show at the films end). also, "hook" the malingering private in the hospital (who won a VC there) was not the rascal he was played to be.

 

did you know napoleon bonaparte's last descendent (his grandson) was killed in the zulu war?

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Thansk, ivan, for the clarification on all of that. And no, I did not know that about Napolean's grandkid.

 

I should probably jsut get The Washing of the Spears and make it a point to read the damned thing.

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Thansk, ivan, for the clarification on all of that. And no, I did not know that about Napolean's grandkid.

 

I should probably jsut get The Washing of the Spears and make it a point to read the damned thing.

you might some of the internet fare on the subject too - i have my "history of war" elective class read henry hook's eyewitness account in addition to watchign the movie - its at http://www.rorkesdriftvc.com/vc/hook_account.htm

 

"Everything was perfectly quiet at Rorke's Drift after the column had left, and every officer and man was going about his business as usual. Not a soul suspected that only a dozen miles away the very men that we had said 'Goodbye', and 'Good luck' to were either dead or standing back-to-back in a last fierce fight with the Zulus. Our garrison consisted of B Company of the 2/24th under Lieutenant Bromhead, and details which brought the total number of us up to 139. Besides these, we had about 300 men of the Natal Native Contingent; but they didn't count, as they bolted in a body when the fight began. We were all knocking about, and I was making tea for the sick, as I was hospital cook at the time.

 

Suddenly there was a commotion in the camp, and we saw two men galloping towards us from the other side of the river, which was Zululand. Lieutenant Chard of the Engineers was protecting the ponts over the river and, as senior officer, was in command at the drift. The ponts were very simple affairs, one of them being supported on big barrels, and the other on boats. Lieutenant Bromhead was in the camp itself. The horsemen shouted and were brought across the river, and then we knew what had happened to our comrades. They had been butchered to a man. That was awful enough, but worse was to follow, for we were told that the Zulus were coming straight on from Isandhlwana to attack us. At the same time a note was received by Lieutenant Bromhead from the Column to say that the enemy was coming on, and that the post was to be held at all costs.

 

For some little time we were all stunned, then everything changed from perfect quietness to intense excitement and energy. There was a general feeling that the only safe thing was to retire and try and join the troops at Helpmakaar. The horsemen had said that the Zulus would be up in two or three minutes; but luckily for us they did not show themselves for more than an hour. Lieutenant Chard rushed up from the river, about a quarter of a mile away, and saw Lieutenant Bromhead. Orders were given to strike the camp and make ready to go, and we actually loaded up two wagons. Then Mr Dalton, of the Commissariat Department, came up and said that if we left the drift every man was certain to be killed. He had formerly been a sergeant major in a line regiment and was one of the bravest men that ever lived. Lieutenants Chard and Bromhead held a consultation, short and earnest, and orders were given that we were to get the hospital and storehouse ready for defence, and that we were never to say die or surrender.

 

Not a minute was lost. Lieutenant Bromhead superintended the loop-holing and barricading of the hospital and storehouse, and the making of a connection of the defences between the two buildings with walls of mealie-bags and wagons. The mealie-bags were good big heavy things, weighing about 200 pounds each, and during the fight many of them were burst open by assegais and bullets, and the mealies (Indian corn) were thickly spread about the ground. The biscuit boxes contained ordinary biscuit. They were big square wooden boxes, weighing about a hundredweight each. The meat boxes, too, were very heavy, as they contained tinned meat. They were smaller than the biscuit boxes. While all these preparations were being made, Lieutenant Chard went down to the river and brought in the pont guard of a sergeant and half a dozen men, with the wagons and gear.The two officers saw that every soldier was at his post, then we were ready for the Zulus when they cared to come.

 

They were not long. Just before half past four we heard firing behind the conical hill at the back of the drift, called Oskarsberg Hill, and suddenly about five or six hundred Zulus swept round, coming for us at a run. Instantly the natives - Kaffirs who had been very useful in making the barricade of wagons, mealie-bags and biscuit boxes around the camp - bolted towards Helpmakaar, and what was worse their officer and a European sergeant went with them. To see them deserting like that was too much for some of us, and we fired after them. The sergeant was struck and killed. Half a dozen of us were stationed in the hospital, with orders to hold it and guard the sick. The ends of the building were of stone, the side walls of ordinary bricks, and the inside walls or partitions of sun-dried bricks of mud. These shoddy inside bricks proved our salvation, as you will see. It was a queer little one-storied building, which it is almost impossible to describe; but we were pinned like rats in a hole, because all the doorways except one had been barricaded with mealie-bags, and we had done the same with the windows. The interior was divided by means of partition walls into which were fitted some very slight doors. The patients' beds were simple rough affairs of boards, raised only half a foot above the floor. To talk of hospital and beds gives the idea of a big building, but as a matter of fact this hospital was a mere little shed or bungalow, divided up into rooms so small that you could hardly swing a bayonet in them. There were about nine men who could not move, but altogether there were about thirty. Most of these, however, could help to defend themselves.

 

As soon as our Kaffirs bolted, it was seen that the fort as we had first made it was too big to be held, so Lieutenant Chard instantly reduced the space by having a row of biscuit boxes drawn across the middle, above four feet high. This was our inner entrenchment, and proved very valuable. The Zulus came on at a wild rush, and although many of them were shot down they got to within about fifty yards of our south wall of mealie-bags and biscuit boxes and wagons. They were caught between two fires, that from the hospital and that from the storehouse, and were checked; but they gained the shelter of the cookhouse and ovens, and gave us many heavy volleys. During the fight they took advantage of every bit of cover there was, anthills, a tract of bush that we had not had time to clear away, a garden or sort of orchard which was near us, and a ledge of rock and some caves (on the Oskarsberg) which were only about a hundred yards away. They neglected nothing, and while they went on firing large bodies kept hurling themselves against our slender breastworks.

 

But it was the hospital they assaulted most fiercely. I had charge with a man that we called Old King Cole of a small room with only one patient in it. Cole kept with me for some time after the fight began, then he said he was not going to stay. He went outside and was instantly killed by the Zulus, so that I was left alone with the patient, a native whose leg was broken and who kept crying out, 'Take my bandage off, so that I can come'. But it was impossible to do anything except fight, and I blazed away as hard as I could. By this time I was the only defender of my room. Poor Old King Cole was lying dead outside and the helpless patient was crying and groaning near me. The Zulus were swarming around us, and there was an extraordinary rattle as the bullets struck the biscuit boxes, and queer thuds as they plumped into the bags of mealies. Then there were the whizz and rip of the assegais, of which I had experience during the Kaffir Campaign of 1877-78. We had plenty of ammunition, but we were told to save it and so we took careful aim at every shot, and hardly a cartridge was wasted. One of my comrades, Private Dunbar, shot no fewer than nine Zulus, one of them being a chief.

 

From the very first the enemy tried to rush the hospital, and at last they managed to set fire to the thick grass which formed the roof. This put us in a terrible plight, because it meant that we were either to be massacred or burned alive, or get out of the building. To get out seemed impossible; for if we left the hospital by the only door which had been left open, we should instantly fall into the midst of the Zulus. Besides, there were the helpless sick and wounded, and we could not leave them. My own little room communicated with another by means of a frail door like a bedroom door. Fire and dense choking smoke forced me to get out and go into the other room. It was impossible to take the native patient with me, and I had to leave him to an awful fate. But his death was, at any rate, a merciful one. I heard the Zulus asking him questions, and he tried to tear off his bandages and escape.

 

In the room where I now was there were nine sick men, and J was alone to look after them for some time, still firing away, with the hospital burning. Suddenly in the thick smoke I saw John Williams, and above the din of battle and the cries of the wounded I heard him shout, 'The Zulus are swarming all over the place. They've dragged Joseph Williams out and killed him.' John Williams had held the other room with Private William Horrigan for more than an hour, until they had not a cartridge left. The Zulus then burst in and dragged out Joseph Williams and two of the patients, and assegaied them. It was only because they were so busy with this slaughtering that John Williams and two of the patients were able to knock a hole in the partition and get into the room where I was posted. Horrigan was killed. What were we to do? We were pinned like rats in a hole. Already the Zulus were fiercely trying to burst in through the doorway. The only way of escape was the wall itself by making a hole big enough for a man to crawl through into an adjoining room, and so on until we got to our inmost entrenchment outside. Williams worked desperately at the wall with the navvy's pick, which I had been using to make some of the loopholes with.

 

All this time the Zulus were trying to get into the room. Their assegais kept whizzing towards us, and one struck me in front of the helmet. We were wearing the white tropical helmets then. But the helmet tilted back under the blow and made the spear lose its power, so that 1 escaped with a scalp wound which did not trouble me much then, although it has often caused me illness since. Only one man at a time could get in at the door. A big Zulu sprang forward and seized my rifle, but I tore it free and, slipping a cartridge in, I shot him point-blank. Time after time the Zulus gripped the muzzle and tried to tear the rifle from my grasp, and time after time I wrenched it back, because I had a better grip than they had. All this time, Williams was getting the sick through the hole into the next room, all except one, a soldier of the 24th named Conley, who could not move because of a broken leg. Watching for my chance I dashed from the doorway, and grabbing Conley I pulled him after me through the hole. His leg got broken again, but there was no help for it. As we left the room the Zulus burst in with furious cries of disappointment and rage.

 

Now there was a repetition of the work of holding the doorway, except that I had to stand by a hole instead of a door, while Williams picked away at the far wall to make an opening for escape into the next room. There was more desperate and almost hopeless fighting, as it seemed, but most of the poor fellows were got through the hole. Again I had to drag Conley through, a terrific task because he was a very heavy man. We were now all in a little room that gave upon the inner line of defence which had been made. We (Williams and Robert Jones and William Jones and myself) were the last men to leave the hospital, after most of the sick and wounded had been carried through the small window and away from the burning building; but it was impossible to save a few of them, and they were butchered. Privates William Jones and Robert Jones during all this time were doing magnificent work in another ward which faced the hill. They kept at it with bullet and bayonet until six of the seven patients had been removed. They would have got the seventh, Sergeant Maxfield, out safely, but he was delirious with fever and, although they managed to dress him, he refused to move. Robert Jones made a last rush to try and get him away like the rest, but when he got back into the room he saw that Maxfield was being stabbed by the Zulus as he lay on his bed. Corporal Allen and Private Hitch helped greatly in keeping up communication with the hospital. They were both badly wounded, but when they could not fight any longer they served out ammunition to their comrades throughout the night

 

As we got the sick and wounded out they were taken to a verandah in front of the storehouse, and Dr Reynolds under a heavy fire and clouds of assegais, did everything he could for them. All this time, of course, the storehouse was being valiantly defended by the rest of the garrison. When we got into the inner fort, I took my post at a place where two men had been shot. While I was there another man was shot in the neck, I think by a bullet which came through the space between two biscuit boxes that were not quite close together. This was at about six o'clock in the evening, nearly two hours after the opening shot of the battle had been fired. Every now and then the Zulus would make a rush for it and get in. We had to charge them out. By this time it was dark, and the hospital was all in flames, but this gave us a splendid light to fight by. I believe it was this light that saved us. We could see them coming, and they could not rush us and take us by surprise from any point They could not get at us, and so they went away and had ten or fifteen minutes of a war-dance. This roused them up again, and their excitement was so intense that the ground fairly seemed to shake. Then, when they were goaded to the highest pitch, they would hurl themselves at us again. .

 

The long night passed and the day broke. Then we looked around us to see what had happened, and there was not a living soul who was not thankful to find that the Zulus had had enough of it and were disappearing over the hill to the south-west Orders were given to patrol the ground, collect the arms of the dead blacks, and make our position as strong as possible in case of fresh attacks.

 

One of the first things I did was to go up to the man who was still looking over our breastworks with his rifle presented to the spot where so many of the Zulus had been. I went up to him, and saw that he did not move, and that he looked very quiet. I went nearer and said 'Hello, what are you doing here?' He made no answer, and did not stir. I went still closer, and something in his appearance made me tilt his helmet back, as you sometimes tilt back a hat when you want to look closely into a face. As I did so I saw a bullet-mark in his forehead, and knew that he was dead.

 

I went away, and was walking up the dry bed of a little stream near the drift with my own rifle in my right hand and a bunch of assegais over my left shoulder. Suddenly I came across an unarmed Zulu lying on the ground, apparently dead but bleeding from the leg. Thinking it strange that a dead man should bleed, I hesitated, and wondered whether I should go on, as other Zulus might be lurking about. But I resumed my task. Just as I was passing, the supposed dead man seized the butt of my rifle and tried to drag it away. The bunch of assegais rattled to earth.

 

The Zulu suddenly released his grasp of the rifle with one hand, and with the other fiercely endeavoured to drag me down. The fight was short and sharp; but it ended by the Zulu being struck in the chest with the butt and knocked to the ground. The rest was quickly over.

 

There was no time to sit down and mope, and there were the sick and wounded as well as the rest to look after. So when the Commander-in-Chief arrived I was back at my cooking in my shirtsleeves, making tea for the sick. A sergeant ran up and said, 'Lieutenant Bromhead wants you.' 'Wait till I put my coat on,' I said. 'Come as you are, straight away,' he ordered, and with my braces hanging about me, I went into the midst of the officers. Lord Chelmsford asked me all about the defence of the hospital, as I was the last to leave the building. An officer took our names, and wrote down what we had done. When the relief had come up the men of the column were sent out to bury the Zulus. There were 351 dead blacks counted, and these were put into two big holes in front of the hospital. The column made the Kaffirs who were with them dig the trenches, but although they dug the holes they positively refused to bury the bodies. There were only a few badly wounded left, as the Zulus had carried off their wounded as they retired. A great many dead were found in a mealie field not far from the hospital.

 

As for our own comrades, we buried them. This was done the day after the fight, not far from the place where they fell, and at the foot of the hill. Soon afterwards the cemetery was walled in and a monument was put up in the middle. The lettering was cut on it by a bandsman named Mellsop, who used bits of broken bayonets as chisels. He drew a capital picture of the fight. Those who had been killed in action were buried on one side of the cemetery, and those who had died of disease on the other side. A curious thing was that a civilian named Byrne, who had taken part in the defence and was killed, was buried outside the cemetery wall. I don't know why, except that he was not a regular soldier."

 

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zulu culture is actually quite fascinating and the book worth reading, w/ the caveat that you must skip any portions related to the history of the white-folks in south africa, which is dreary :(

 

Easy there.

You're drifting into a debate with the dreaded Tvash.

None of this silly talk about supersticious ninnys.

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