"
The army was suffering from both cold and hunger, and was in pitiable
plight. Again he writes: "Lieutenant Daunt, Ninth Regiment, and
another officer of some Sixtieth Regiment, were frozen to death last
night, and two officers of the Ninety-Third Regiment were smothered by
charcoal. The streets of Balaklava are a sight, with swell English
cavalry and horse-artillery carrying rations, and officers in every
conceivable costume foraging for eatables."
There was little military glamor in such sights as this. No wonder,
young Gordon felt sick of it all. But he never gave the slightest
indication of quitting. He only worked all the harder to help do his
bit. As Spring advanced, he had an opportunity to work closer to the
lines. He received orders to construct trenches and rifle pits, which
at times was extremely hazardous and brought him under fire. On one
occasion a Russian bullet missed his head by a scant inch.
At last, in the month of June, came his first chance to do some real
fighting. Every branch of the service was marshalled by the commanding
general, Lord Raglan, for a massed attack. What happened can best be
described in Gordon's own words:
"About three a. m. the French advanced on the Malakoff tower in three
columns, and ten minutes after this our signal was given.
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