There were only about three hundred of us left. Despite being armed with the finest rifles that Queen Victoria’s British army could provide they had been no match for the crude assegais and shields of the thousands of proud Zulu warriors. At dusk the fighting stopped and the only sound was the rhythm of their drums, incessant in the darkness. Despite exhaustion we could not afford to sleep.
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When the pen takes control. 
Scary. Oh, when one needs artillery. 🙂
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Is it wrong that I am rooting for the Zulus?
Well done 🙂
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Perhaps , as a colonial I would not be surprised
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😊
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Does this brief but illuminating exchange not emphasise the subtlety and many possible nuances of our great English language
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That it does.
It is an acknowledgment that I have read and appreciated your comment and is not the be-hated (by me) thumbs up.
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I don’t et a lot of those, it seems rather offhand
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Okay then. Apologies.
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Sorry, it wasn’t aimed at you so no need for any apology
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Guess I’d better add my tuppence worth. The Zulus truly were a force to be reckoned with
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