To this day grey-bearded
old warriors speak with quiet pride and affection of their fighting days
with "Roberts Sahib" at Kabul; and many an old eye kindles and bent back
straightens as they salute his picture in the mess. Some, too, will
remember the exact place and date on which he shook hands with them, and
congratulated them on some brave deed, as he pinned the star for valour
on their breasts.
It is given to few men to gain the affection and soldierly respect of
all, but Roberts possessed the two great merits in the eyes of the
simple Indian soldier. He was always kind and considerate, though firm
as a rock, and always brave: kind with the kindness which is never weary
of watching over the welfare of all, never forgetting a friend however
humble, and always remembering those little soldier courtesies which
count for so much; brave not only with the bravery that wins the
Victoria Cross, but which, stout of heart, looks clear and undaunted
through the dark storm of a winter like that of 1879 at Kabul; and still
burns bright when at seventy years of age he goes forth at his Queen's
behest to turn back the dark tide of defeat in 1899, and bring back
victory to her standards.
To give an instance of this magnetic influence,--one day long after the
Afghan War, Lord Roberts, then Commander-in-Chief in India, was passing
the camp of the Guides, riding quietly along, when the sentry on the
quarter-guard, an old soldier, recognised him in the distance, and
shouting as in duty bound, "Guard, turn out!" added unofficially, but
louder still, "Roberts Sahib is coming.
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