Anecdotes
The Young Hector:
Going home from school one day he came across a wee boy weeping
bitterly, the big tears running down his cheeks. He asked the
mite why
he cried, and was told that a bigger boy had stolen his slate-pencil.
Hector immediately declared war, and set out to settle scores
with the offender. He caught him, and after securing the stolen
slate-pencil, gave the bully a good hiding.
One night, when well on his way to Dingwall, Mr. Robertson
(Hector's master) discovered that he had left his gloves behind
him. He turned his horse and galloped back to the farm. Much
to his surprise, on turning the corner, he discovered Hector
galloping round one of the fields on a pony with a fork for a
sword, and imitating his master and giving out orders in a stentorian
voice--to an imaginary regiment. The sudden appearance of Mr.
Robertson so upset the aspiring field officer that he fell off
the pony's back.
Source: Hector Macdonald: or, The Private
Who Became a General 1900
Enlisting:
Every week a magnificent, burly recruiting Sergeant in full
Highland uniform went to Inverness and stood in a prominent position
in the street market seeking men who might be persuaded to take
the Queen's shilling. Hector had often seen and admired him.
And on this particular day the boy stood looking for a long time,
listening to the Sergeant talking to the passers-by. It needed
a good deal of courage to go up to the Sergeant and announce
that he wanted to enlist. The thought of what his mother would
say was enough to make him feel guilty.
The Sergeant looked him up and down.
'How old are you, lad?' he asked.
'Seventeen,' said Hector.
'That won't do. You must be eighteen.'
'I am - nearly, said the boy.
The Sergeant hadn't found a recruit all day, and the lad looked
clean, and strong. He turned away and picked up his knapsack
from the side of the fruit stall.
'All right,' he said. 'You'd better come with me.'
If only he had known it, he was about to enlist a future Major-General,
a man who would be offered the Victoria Cross but would refuse
it, yet would be knighted and honoured wherever Scotsman gathered.
Source: Toll For The Brave 1963
"We'll mak' ye an officer"
Lord Roberts nearly rode into an ambush at Hazar Darakht defile
(or the pass of a thousand trees) where Afghans held a impregnable
position in the hills. Colour-Sergeant Macdonald and his 63 men
advanced up the hills until they were above the Afghans, he waited
until they were within three hundred yards and then gave the
order for rapid controlled fire into the advancing Afghans, the
Afghans quickly withdrew. After the battle a comrade of Macdonald's
shouted out to him, "We'll mak' ye an officer for this day's
work, sergeant!" "Aye," cried another, "and
a General too!" Lieutenant-Colonel Greenhill Gardyne recorded
generously in the same account, they were to be prophetic words.
Source: Death Before Dishonour 1982
Victoria Cross or Commission:
Hector Macdonald as a Colour-Sergeant distinguished himself
at the battle of Charasia, for his actions Lord Roberts offered
Macdonald a choice of the Victoria Cross or a field commission.
Legend has it Macdonald chose the field commission stating that
he would win the Victoria Cross later.
Source: Death Before Dishonour 1982
Assassins:
Macdonald drilled his men hard, he forged them into fierce
fighting men.One day while on a march Macdonald overheard three
soldiers plotting to shoot him in the back. Macdonald stopped
the march and lined up the brigade and invited the three soldiers
to carry out their threat. "Now" he said, "you
three fellows are going to shoot me when we are next fighting,
are you? But why wait so long? Why not do it now? You have your
rifles, Why not use them? Here I am-shoot me." There was
a brief moment of silence, but then the assembled ranks began
to laugh. The three would-be assassins were shamed in front of
fellow bothers the situation passed without incident.
Source: Death Before Dishonour 1982
The Hero Of Omdurman:
'With a tact, coolness, and hardihood I have never seen equalled,
Colonel Macdonald maneuvered and fought with his men. They responded
to his call with confidence and alacrity begotten of long acquaintance
and implicit faith in their leader. He had led several of the
battalions through a score of fierce fights and skirmishes, always
emerging and covering himself and his men with glory, honour,
and victory. All of them knew him; they were proud of him ...
steady as a gladiator, with what to some of us looked like inevitable
disaster staring him in the face, Macdonald fought his brigade
for all it was worth. The Dervishes came on in huge masses, waving
their great flags and banners, Macdonald's brigade alone able
to resist them. The enemy's cavalry were galloping for all they
were worth into Macdonald's thin red line. The sight was fascinating,
and it was impossible to unrivet one's eyes from the scene. The
Sirdar stood on the hill with his glasses to his eyes. One could
see the anxiety on his face. All this was bad enough, but there
was still worse in store; a huge body of Dervishes, which had
been hidden among the hills towards Kerrari, were charging down
upon Macdonald's right, and would cut off his retreat to the
river. All hope seemed to be lost. Reinforcements were tearing
up, but would never arrive in time. The boldest held their breath;
the fate of Omdurman lay in the happenings of the next few seconds.
Quicker than it takes to tell you, Macdonald broke his line in
half and formed a right-angle, the cannons and Maxims were run
back by hand, and the new onslaught was met by a deadly fire.
He moved quickly upon the best possible ground, formed up, wheeled
about, and stood to die or win. He was perfectly unaided.'
The Times war correspondent-Bennet Burleigh 1898
'Had the Khalifa's attack been simultaneous with that which
was now developed, the position of Macdonald's brigade must have
been almost hopeless. In the actual event it was one of extreme
peril. The attack in his front was weakening every minute, but
the far more formidable attack on his right rear grew stronger
and nearer in inverse ratio. Both attacks must be met. The moment
was critical; the danger near. All depended on Macdonald, and
that officer, who by valour and conduct in war had won his way
from the rank of a private soldier to the command of a brigade,
and will doubtless obtain still higher employment, was equal
to the emergency.'
The River War-Winston Churchill 1899