But a perfect discipline reigned among the vast majority of the gunners, and the words of command and the laying and working of the guns were all as methodical as at Okehampton.

Not only was there a most deadly rifle fire, partly from the lines in front and partly from the village of Colenso upon their left flank, but the Boer automatic quick-firers found the range to a nicety, and the little shells were crackling and banging continually over the batteries.
Already every gun had its litter of dead around it, but each was still fringed by its own group of furious officers and sweating desperate gunners.

Poor Long was down, with a bullet through his arm and another through his liver.

'Abandon be damned! We don't abandon guns!' was his last cry as they dragged him into the shelter of a little donga hard by.
Captain Goldie dropped dead.

So did Lieutenant Schreiber.