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ebay id is 391462586744

Thank you Charl.

I see the 4 medals sold for US $1,135.57 or £776 or R17850.

Regimental History says reported missing, Talana, 21 Oct 99. Not listed on Casualty Roll. This would explain the clasps.

Last seen as QSA (6) inc CC, TH and RoL, KSA (2), LS&GC GV (Cpl MFP)

Dugald McPhail served as a quarter master in the Buffalo Border Guards at the battle of Isandhlwana. 20 years later he fought in the battle of Talana as a member of the Dundee Rifle Association.

He was one of the founders of Dundee and lived to the age of 101. This pair was presented by his grandson Mr Ian McPhail.

A similar pair is believed to be in existence.

David

This is the first time that I have seen photographs of McPhail's medals. Thank you for posting them.

McPhail was effectively in charge of the 23 men of the Buffalo Border Guard at the time of the Battle of Isandlwana, since the regiment's only officer was away purchasing cattle to feed Lord Chelmsford's army. Fifteen of those men missed the battle by being away with a patrol of Colonials that had gone in search of the Zulu army. Five of the eight men who remained, including Dugal McPhail and my great-great uncle Charles Stretch, escaped and crossed back into the safety of Natal. Only one man, Trooper John Guttridge, died on the battlefield, while the two remaining were caught and killed when they were already in sight of the Buffalo River and safety.

The BBG's survival rate was unequaled by other regiments. Of those Colonials on the battlefield, the Natal Mounted Police lost 25 out of 34 men, the Natal Carbineers 22 out of 29, and the Newcastle Mounted Rifles 8 out of 15. Most of these men died in a last stand around Colonel Durnford, who was later to be regarded either as a hero by some or the architect of the disaster by others in the Anglo-Zulu War fan club. The reason for the BBG's high survival rate can be put down to the men being residents of the local area on the border with Zululand (hence the regiment's name), and they knew what to expect if they stayed to fight the hordes of Zulus that had confronted them.

Shown below is the only relic of the BBG in my possession, the medal awarded to Trooper Stanley Smith, who was a blacksmith and wagon maker at Helpmekaar, His partner in the business was the Trooper Guttridge, who died on the battlefield. (Apparently there are only two badges of the BBG known to exist, and I do not have one of them, hence the drawing of the badge.)

The most readily accessible account of the BBG is that of Terry Sole in his book 'For God, Queen and Country' (Token Publishers, 2011). If anyone would like a copy of my account written in 2010, please send me a PM.

Brett

Brett,

I crossed the Buffalo River a few times today journeying between Rorke's Drift and Isandlwana and was thinking about the role of the BBG in those days after we had spoken about them.

Your information was fascinating.

Many thanks
David

Hi

Aah how I wish I was touring the battlefields rather than facing having to prepare for work tomorrow. But I can tour vicariously by following David on his trip.

I thought he may value hearing from Lieut R G Stirling (a recipient of a QSA: Talana, DoL, OFS and Tvl and KSA 1901/02 Lieut. R. G. Stirling. K.R.R.C). His letter was published in various newspapers including The Belfast News-Letter dated 12 December 1899 which he sent home after the Battle of Talana Hill on 20 October 1899 as follows:

I now write to tell you all about the Battle of Talana Hill, on Thursday, October 19. The Boers fired on a train coming from Maritzburg. I wrote you a long letter that day, but fear it never went. One of our fellows was sent down at six that night with fifty men to see if they could not see the Boers. A ticklish job going down in a train, as you could only travel slowly, not knowing whether the line had been pulled up. However, he got back seeing nothing.

We paraded as usual in the morning, 4-30. We had dismissed the men, and went back for a cup of tea, when one of our fellows said, `There they are.’ Of course, we all laughed, went and got our glasses, and saw them all on two hills, two or three miles away. We were so amazed we must have stood there for nearly a quarter of an hour, when suddenly a shell brought us to our senses. The men were all falling in by then. Tents, which I think a mistake, make such a splendid target. It was rather funny seeing everyone dodge them as they whistled through the air. Luckily, the shells were badly managed and refused to burst, or half of us would have been killed. I was talking to Nugent when one shell came straight for us, the wind it made knocking the cigarette out of his mouth; it must have come between us, as it fell two yards from us.

We had been standing there over ten minutes, which seemed like so many hours, when our guns began. I think they began at a quarter-past five, and by seven o’clock they were silenced. We started to attack the hill about a quarter to six o’clock. The Dublins were the first or firing line, we the support. We marched in extended order nearly 1½ mile, when we came to nearly a dry river. Just as I got there they began their quick-firing guns, five or six at a time. I had just jumped into the river when one of the beastly things hit the ground at my feet, and covered me with sand. We stayed under the bank about half an hour and collected our men. We were about one mile from the summit. Beyond the river was a bit of open ground, about a quarter of a mile, then came a wood, then a bit more open. When we got the order to advance my heart was rather in my mouth, as I knew then we were under fire, and in a minute or two I might be a corpse, or rather cold. However, up I had to get and give my men a lead. They all behaved splendidly. Bullets came whizzing past rather unpleasantly. I was dying to run to get to the wood. However, I got so excited I forgot everything.

Half-way across the open was a fence, and getting over there some poor fellows were shot; at last we got to the fence. Several Dublins had been wounded. They then moved while we took a rest. Bullets kept coming sideways from the second hill. Then we moved again, and came right through the wood. In the wood there were plenty of ditches, and at the end of the wood was a wall. We lay there to get breath. Poor Hambro was shot through the jaw, but would take no notice. Then came the bad part. There was a bramble hedge on the top of the wall, so one could not get over, but there was a gateway, and through this we all had to go, and it was a hot time. But there were some beautiful rocks about 50 yards off, so not much damage was done. When we got under the wall some heavy firing took place, lasting nearly two hours. I had several shots with the men’s rifles. Then we crossed the road to take the hill; that was the worst place. Nugent, who went over with me, was shot in the leg. When I got half-way up the hill I found myself next to Hambro, who had been wounded twice; we lay down under the rocks, as the firing was very heavy. We saw lots of men shot as they crossed the wall. Hambro and I had to retire. I had my helmet knocked off with a piece of rock the shell hit. When I went up the hill a second time Hambro was lying almost dead, with his legs reduced to pulp. Too terrible! I suppose a shell must have hit him behind. We must have been there for an hour, bullets whizzing over us. Colonel Sherston was dying, his groans were awful.

Then an awful part happened - our artillery, mistaking us for Boers, began firing on us. Colonel Gunning, who was just below me, stood up and yelled out, `Stop the firing.’ These were the last words I heard him speak, but I believe his last words were, `Remember you are Riflemen.’ Of course, we could not stand our men firing on us, so retired over the wall safely. I saw Nugent had been badly wounded and being helped over by some men, so I took him over - he had been shot in the knee and back. When we got over the wall the scene was terrible. Three of our officers shot within five yards of one another, Pechell and Taylor dead, Boultree wounded in the groin.

By this time our artillery had stopped. We again ascended the hill, and got to the top to see the veldt black with retiring Boers - a good many Boers were dead on the top. Beyond, on another hill, we expected to see Boers. The Rifles consisted of three very junior officers – Marsden, Reade (joined six days), and myself. We made a charge at it, but there were only a few Boers flying away. However, it was meant well – effort is everything. Then we saw three Boers riding up with a white flag. The hospital was just beyond. By some mistake the artillery did not fire at the retreating enemy. We (Rifles) went down to the hospital, where we found about 200 rifles, ponies, saddles, and ammunition. We got two flags. The hospital, a six- roomed cottage, was filled with wounded. It was pelting rain, and the poor wounded on the hill must have had an awful time. An 18th Hussar officer was brought in and laid on the floor with the Boers. Marsden went away to get oxen to take the rifles away, so I was in charge, in a Boer mackintosh. I had heard Crum was lying two miles away with a broken arm, so sent Reade off in a cart to find him.

They were all kindness at the Boers’ hospital, the chief man being English, whom the Boers had commandeered. They even offered me something to eat; I refused, although I had a cup of tea at five, just twelve hours ago. Wounded Boers, drenched, were being brought in; our shells had been fatal. The men thought I had gone home, and all gone except four. I went back to hospital; stayed until 6.30 for Crum, but no signs. Thought he had been taken to camp, so, having picked out the best Boer horse, went home. Got in about seven, and, though I had eaten nothing all day, did not feel hungry, but dolloped the brandy down. Reade had not returned with Crum - I felt a brute for leaving him. However, in a quarter of an hour he returned, having left Crum at Boer hospital. It had been a terrible day, and we were down in the mouth; dead tired, I was soon asleep.

Best regards

Peter