Speed, and shock, and unexpectedness were ours, and lies had prepared us our reception.

D Squadron rode behind Ranjoor Singh like a storm in the night--swung into line beside the other squadrons--and spurred forward as in a dream.

There was no shouting; no war-cry.

We rode into the Germans as I have seen wind cut into a forest in the hills--downward into them, for once we had leapt the trench the ground sloped their way.
And they went down before us as we never had the chance of mowing them again.
So, sahib, we proved our hearts--whether they were stout, and true, as the British had believed, or false, as the Germans planned and hoped.

That was a night of nights--one of very few such, for the mounted actions in this war have not been many.