There was a faint loom along the horizon behind the regiment and they would be silhouetted against lighter sky the moment they reached the top of the nullah.They would be easy targets. He drew his pistol and held it close to his chest as he scrambled up through the grass.Then, as the ground levelled off, he stopped and glanced round. The water in the aqueduct was ink black and stretched out on either side.

‘Fitzgerald. Bring the men up. Light company to the left. Grenadiers to the right.’

‘Yes, sir.’

As Fitzgerald whispered the order down the bank Arthur eased himself forward, slipping his boot into the water. The footing was soft and sloped steeply and in moments he was up to his waist. He held the pistol high and waded forward, hoping that the crocodiles confined themselves to the river. He moved slowly towards the far bank, fifteen yards ahead, and then climbed carefully out. Arthur looked round, listening, but all was still and quiet amongst the low trees of the tope below the nullah. He felt a wave of relief that they seemed to have found the right place, and stood erect, forcing himself to set the appropriate example to his officers and men.

‘Fitzgerald, bring the flank companies over.’

The men moved forward into the water, muskets held overhead as they waded across. Above the faint splashes Arthur could clearly hear some muttering, before a sergeant growled, ‘Keep yer bloody mouths shut.’

The dark shapes were clambering up on to the bank on either side of Arthur when there was a blazing pool of light from a short distance away down below amongst the trees, and a loud roaring hiss.

‘Rocket!’ someone just had time to yell before the missile arced out of a gap in the trees, towards the bank of the nullah, and buried itself in the ground so close to Arthur that he blinked as a shower of loose soil spattered his face. At once more rockets were fired, brilliantly illuminating the tope so that Arthur had brief glimpses of the tangled mangrove that lay ahead of him. Muskets joined in, flaring in the darkness as they went off.

‘The bastards are everywhere!’ Fitzgerald shouted and ducked as a rocket fizzed overhead.

‘Stand up!’ Arthur took his arm and forced Fitzgerald to his feet. ‘You’re an officer, Fitzgerald.You must set the standard.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Arthur turned to his men.‘Get down the bank! Into the tope. Quickly!’

The soldiers of the flank companies slithered and clambered down the bank and moved forward towards the trees, still under fire from the enemy troops and rocket crews.Arthur veered right, towards the grenadiers, who, true to their role as the teeth arm of the regiment, had fixed bayonets and were charging towards where the enemy fire seemed most concentrated. With a sick feeling of anxiety Arthur noticed that the men were already separating and he cupped a hand to his mouth.