Colonel Alderson wiped his face as he read yet again his orders from General Bartleby-Jones. He understood them easily enough but he wondered about the way he would execute them. He and his senior officers sat around the large intricately carved padauk table and studied the map. It was a long march from Aswan to Acre, straight west across vast plains with sparse water to satisfy a brigade-sized force. It was a far shorter march to Aswan from Efurti. The Imperial Navy had quietly secured Efurti several weeks ago and they reported it to be a quiet coastal city. The local population was indifferent to the occupants of their government house and seemed content to go about their lives.
The colonel could not directly consult with the force commander because General Bartleby-Jones had already left for Kismet where he could arrange personally for the re-arrival of the foreign legations himself. He had explained that his presence was necessary to ensure the prestige of the Imperial government. Colonel Alderson waved to an orderly and whispered to him to bring the Naval force commander to the meeting as soon as possible.
“Gentlemen,” between puffs on his pipe, “I have requested the presence of the Navy to arrange transport of the brigade from here to Efurti, and from there we strike across the desert to Aswan! There are four wells between Efurti and Aswan and by God’s grace we will find them clean and clear. Prepare your men for action!”
As it turned out, the naval transports were already sailing east back to Acre from the capture of Kismet so within several weeks the 3rd Brigade embarked and arrived soon after at Efurti. Colonel Alderson wasted little time at Efurti and was soon afterward at the head of his brigade and moving north into the desert in a long column aimed at Aswan.
From the moment the head of the column left the city gates of Efurti they were under harassment from native warbands. The native leaders did not dare risk a major engagement at this time as their own forces were not yet joined together. The local leader, Shiek Naji el Afridi, was gathering his warriors on the plains before the gates of Aswan and already several banners had arrived. Some of those he sent out to raid the Imperial column wherever they could. Shiek Afridi was a wily own warrior who had seen service under the former Shad regime and he knew the weaknesses of the Imperial forces. His own green flag soldiers he would keep close to him and it fell to the red flag warriors to lead the first strikes on the Imperial soldiers.
The morning of the third day out of Efurti, the Imperial column arrived at the first well, Wady Hafar. This was a small collection of mud huts and palm trees which provided a small degree of shelter for the weary soldiers of the 3rd Brigade. Though they had suffered few casualties from the harassing native warriors and there appeared to be little danger up to this point, the colonel thought it most prudent to leave a company at the well to hold and protect the supply line back to Efurti. The defense of the supply line was assigned to LTC J. Cromer’s 30th Regiment.
The column then proceeded on to the halfway point, the little village of Kera. Here the column rested several days as supplies were built up and the troops were rested. From there it was on to Abu Fatmeh. Then on again to the final well before arriving at Aswan, the Terai Wells. As the column progressed it was noted that the route behind them back to Efurti was quiet and uncontested. Yet the closer they marched to Aswan, the more intense the opposition grew. But Colonel Alderson never lost faith and confidence in his men and confidently but carefully he set out on the final march to Aswan before the rising of the sun. The route had been reconnoitered by his infantry patrols and he was well aware of the terrain between himself and the tent city that now grew up outside the walls of Aswan.
Though there was no moon, the countless stars above them lit their way in an eiry cold silver light and the dark khaki columns floated across the pale blue sea of sand with Imperial precision. The low crunch of their boots was barely audible and even the typical noise of the artillery seemed muffled in the sand.
As the sun started to lighten the eastern sky to their right, the soldiers looked down from their low ridge on the thrilling, awe-inspiring sight below them. There were hundreds of colorful tents set randomly across the plain crowded around the city gates. Vari-colored banners flew from every tower of the city and the silence from below informed them they had achieved their surprise.
“By God, we’ve done it Sir!” an aide softly shouted to the colonel. The colonel just “hmppphed” and ordered out patrols to quietly assure him of that surprise. Word came back that the native sentries were as yet unaware of their presence. As the sun broke the plane of the earth, the soldiers rose to their places and the artillerymen stood eagerly to their guns.
Colonel Alderson surveyed the scene yet again through his glass. He leaned to the right and told his small staff, “I do believe it is time to wake them up.” A staff officer made the signal to the artillery and the early morning serenity of the Aswan morning was destroyed by a rousing blast from C Battery of the 1st Royal Artillery. The shells whined their way to the enemy camp and exploded among the cramped tents. One shell exploded in the right turret of the city gate.scattering debris and more devastation down on the tents. The rapid fire volleys of artillery fire killed dozens of warriors in the opening seconds of the fusillade and caused hundreds to erupt from their tents like angry ants. More were killed as they ran aimlessly around among the exploding tents. By the time their leaders finally restored some order, upwards of a hundred were already lying dead on the sand.
But these were not levy warriors. They were battle-hardened warriors who now sought to wrest control of the fight from the Imperial army. Those closest to the outer rim of tents launched themselves at the Imperial line to give time to their comrades to organize themselves. LTC Winston Barnett, commander of the 12th Infantry saw their intent and angled his regiment’s line to provide maximum firepower to be thrown against the wildly advancing tribesman. The result was exactly as anticipated. Valiantly the warriors launched themselves with warcries against the Imperial firepower which cut them to pieces. The withering volleys of the rifles was too much to bear and with disgust the Shiekh watched his warriors flee from the killing blasts. When their panic spread to the rest of his warriors the route was complete and the Shiekh found himself forced to rush from the city to rally his fleeing warriors. He noted that the Imperial firepower had increased in effectiveness since the last time he had faced them. Even as he fled the city he was formulating new tactics for the new threat.
