Dee Stanley
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#Surgeon Major George Stowcroft DSO
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December 31st 2006 Our
sincere thanks to Dee Stanley Dee Stanley is a military historian
who is an expert
on the 15th Surgeon Major George Rowcroft, DSO  Major General Sir Eric Bertram Rowcroft, The first Director of R.E.M.E. Died 1964 George's son
The adventures of Surgeon Major George Rowcroft, DSO whilst serving as an Infantry Officer with the 15th Sikh regiment. George was originally a wing officer with the Sikhs and retired as their Lt Colonel. He promptly retrained at Barts in London, specialising in ophthalmic treatment and rejoined the Indian Army as a Medical officer…. Here is his version of the incident known as Mc Neils Zariba, although the history books call it the Battle of Tofrek… Trouble was brewing in the Sudan and in February 1885 the Regiment was ordered to Suakin , to form part of an Indian Brigade. Once through the coral reef that guards The port of Suakin we made for the deserted beach and pitched our tents.. Unfortunately I had pitched mine on the recently buried corpse of a Camel and the stink was rather terrible..I repitched and then we met some Cavalry coming out of the Desert saying they had met the enemy and had been in a scrimmage… We, therefore slept fully dressed with our weapons by our side… During
the next day we made our camp a little more fortified with sentries
out at all times…They came during the
night, quietly..probing our defences and one of
our men was speared to death. I looked for some weapon to spread a
little death and destruction in the dark.
A shotgun would do
nicely.Trouble was we did not have one…I
got some lead strip and cut it up and loaded it into a cartridge
case and fired it in the general direction
of the desert…..with some degree of horror I watched
it whirr lethally straight through General Hudsons tent.. The great
man shot outside and on asking me in a
somewhat angry voice, as to what I was doing? A
dhooly passed me by with Major Wilkinson aboard..He had been
pinned into his saddle by a broad bladed spear. The Arab that had
done this was now dead, shot by Major
Wilkinson who was not best pleased by the mans attempt to fix him
to his horse.. The 15th got their blood up and went into battle mode as only a Sikh can. One of our temporary volunteers from the 45th Sikhs, one Gurdet Singh stood out front with his sword raised over his head and bought it down on an enemies head and the blade did not stop until it had met the mans waistline. He repeated this with two other Arabs and then his sword broke. ( Lord Wolseley gave him another afterwards with a suitable inscription on it.) One of our men lost his head to a native sword and it had to be carried separately in a handkerchief. We fired so fast our rifle barrels became red hot, one man burnt his hand so badly He was invalided back to India. The
dead piled up in front of us was exceedingly high, and so the attack
sheered to our right and was dealt with by
the Grenadiers. After that the attackers
ran into the bush and were lost to sight. This action broke Osman
Digna,s powers for good and he never made any attacks after that. George went on to win a DSO on the North West Frontier at the Tirah and eventually retired as Commanding Officer but that isn’t the end of his story as he went on to the First World War on Hospital ships as a Medical Officer. He wrote out his life story from 1862 up until 1948 when he was at a Mission hospital. He then went back to his Daughters house in Coonoor in the Nilgiri Hills…I found his grave in Tiger Hill cemetery and had it refurbished. It shows he died in 1952. He had served four Sovereigns and lies under a large tree in a quiet backwater, so called because it was once the home of Tigers…A fitting tribute to this particular Tiger. Dee Stanley. Seaton Dec 2006. Copywrite applies. ************************************************** February 13 2007In January, Dee visited India and here shares her reminisences of the trip with us-- Thank you Dee January , in our house, sees the suitcases coming down from the loft and the Dog going into his, “ Don’t leave me” mode. “ I promise to be good and I,ll never chase another Cat”. actually he is left to the tender mercies of a relative and so he does not have to go to the kennels, which is a lot cheaper than a Fortnight ,s bill from , The Doggy prison. It takes me a whole year to
settle down from a trip to India, each
time I come back exhausted , saying, Never again. Diving into the air conditioned
comfort of an Indigo or Indica motorcar we shoot past the
Ambassadors of India and with horn blasting every ten secs we make
our way along the coast road to Kalikat..100 miles away. ( I love
the American spell checker on this
machine. It goes mad when I write Indian place names.I tell it,(
That’s for me to know and for you to find out). Has killed 5 people so far, including 3 Mahouts..I viewed it with a new respect. “How come you are looking after it?” I said, He replied, “Its a job”..I wonder if he is still uncompressed. Fatalism , is it? Same way our driver dodges maniacal bus drivers doing 90 on the wrong side of a blind bend…These suicide jockeys regularly take out car loads of people and kill them. All part of the fun that can be India. I have adopted a, If you gotta go, you have gotta go, philosophy. You know it makes sense. Managing to survive Killer Elephants and lunatic Bus drivers we then take 36 hairpin bends up into the Western Ghats. I know there are 36 as signs keep telling us. Monkeys sit on the roadside parapets begging for scraps..I usually empty out the fruit bowls in hotels and save them for Hannuman and his relations, You never know, Darwin said we are related as well, one of them does look like Uncle Edwin….At the top of this mountain we pass a tree festooned with chains…This is called, Wait for it, The chain tree………it chains a spitefull wraith who was murdered, so the story goes, by a Victorian road builder, and so the thing began attacking travelers so they chained it up..I didn’t make this up, I,m only relating the story..There are many weird things in India and its not just me. We are destined for a place called Sultans Batheri..the real name is Sultans Battery..which we call, Assault and Battery. On the map it is Batheri. It boasts an old Jain temple and Tipu sultan, ( Please see separate and very boring lecture on who he was and how displeased he was to meet the Duke of Wellington) Used to keep his ammo there. The Tiger of Mysore was his soubriquet,( Nickname)..and the Duke buried him at the Watergate in Seringapatam, which is now changed to something I cannot begin to pronounce. Supercallifragulisticexpiallidoceous. Well, not quite , but almost..They do love their long place namesand here was I thinking it was only the Viet -Taff. Sorry, Welsh Nationalists. A group 4 security man salutes our car as we sail past the gate he has opened for us..Up and up we climb thru a plantation of Coffee, Cardoman, Vanilla and Arica nut until we suddenly come into a patch of brilliant sunlight and there before us is the Tranquil Homestay and home of Victor and Gini Dey. Sami, the head lad will be there grinning and offering hot scented towels with which to freshen face and hands and Victor will come out and give me a big hug..He may not do that to you , but we have been there many time sand, he says, we are Family… Victor is very handsome and over six feet tall, in another life I picture him on the N.W. Frontier of India leading a tribe of dissidents and shooting the feelthy British from the heights of the Khyber..Gini, his lovely wife, has an engaging smile and it she who does most of the work there whilst Victor tells everyone he does it all ..We know the truth, Gini….. Assisting them are Neesha and RJ..Daughter and son in law respectively. The coffee plantation is 400 acres of cleared hill jungle with most of the shade trees left in situ..There are eight walks of varying lengths and difficulty..One is called Braveheart,so you can guess it is a real cardiac workout..or attack… There are tree houses for guests who wish to commune with nature and the rest of the place resembles a film set of the 1930.s And I keep expecting some matinee idol to roll across the set in bush shirt and nobbly knees, crying, Koi -Hai? And a young chap entering stage left asking, Anyone for tennis? Whatever you ask for is in your hand before you even ask for it. The meals are wonderful and all the guests sit together with the family and eat and enjoy good conversation. In the evening most people congregate at the bar and the Dinner follows on as soon as everyone is ready..I make brief forays into the surrounding countryside checking on the condition of cemeteries for BACSA and preparing reports on the same..I go over to Ooty and stay with Koi- Hai member Tony and Bridget Pickford..Tony is, Our Man in the Nilgiris..or the Brit High Commish rep..No 1. And very good he is too. I am grateful to him as he sorts out who gets the money to repair cemeteries and a watching brief over them as they spend it…I shouldn’t say this but we once had a member of the cloth take the money for repairs and last heard he had disappeared into the Ooloo on a new Motor Cycle.. I stayed with the Pickfords this Jan, and Bridget does a real mean Cottage Pie…after 2 weeks in India, and I don’t eat curry, you can bet that was a sight for sore eyes. Shall we just flicker back on that last statement..The one about the curry. Silly, isn’t it, but I cant stand the stuff…Victor and Gini cater for me with English grub..Give us a bash at the bangers and mash..What! One time in Cochin, sorry, Kochi..the room PA swished up to us in the Bubble Bar at the Taj in Ernakulam and whispered conspiratorially, Tomorrow night should please you, we are having a Mexican cuisine evening…… Yeh, Right..Chillies with everything…I told her, politely, where to go with her Nachos. I digress. Having crawled thru countless overgrown cemeteries and got myself covered in those weed seeds that stick like burrs to ones clothing, and sauntered thru Bazaars..Oh , I must tell. I took an old coat to India and gave it to a Tailor in the Battery Bazaar..Copy that! He gave me a beautiful copy back, lined in red silk..total cost. $8..or £4.50..I was amazed and doubled his reward..Next year I will take him out more to copy. After 3 weeks in the idyll that is India,s Wyanad district and a brief sojourn in Ooty…where the man plays the piano in the Savoy hotel just like Les Dawson, and a trip to Tellicherry, we go down to Cochin, Sorry , Kochi…grrrr. The Chinese fishing nets see us sauntering by the harbour..I usually take Tom in to a big hotel for lunch..He always asks if he can go and change his white shirt for a check one, as the white one is his Uniform as a driver.. We have looked after him, bought him a motorbike last year and the year before that we managed to give him the money to get electric laid on in the house he built…For this he is very pleased. India without him as our driver wouldn’t be the same.. Before I go, I must just share a tale with you. We found this detail on the wrapper of a bar of soap..Its worth sharing: Very special we is carelessly blending this natural and organic beauty soap . Washing yourself times also can be very nicely washing your hands and face and feet and sometimes private parts making clean and very nice smelling is that . Directions. Better you first standing naked with yourself outside of line in shower, then joining the soap and water to your not yet clean body . Then little bit rubbing and scrubbing around and then many just water all around on yourself. Then you are feeling very
clean and happy about anything, eveything…….. Sayonara..Dee Stanley. Seaton . Devonshire Feb 2007 PS..To those I have missed out, I apologise..Norma, Victors Mum and Samara, Victors, Grand daughter..and a host of hairy hounds..Pepsi, the Cobra Killer, Tequila and Peaches and last but not least, Victors favourite mutt. Gundha..which as you know means a Badmash..Follow the dogs on any of the Forest trails to the top of the Hill…but do not follow them back, they tend To do their own thing, like chasing Mongeese, or is it Mongooses, whatever, those darty about things that kill snakes. |
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