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Updated: September 9, 2025
"Byng, I wanted you to know beforehand what Fleming intends to bring up to-night a nice kind of reunion, isn't it, with war ahead as sure as guns, and the danger of everything going to smash, in spite of Milner and Jo?" A set look came into Byng's face.
You should have seen Reggie Byng's wedding. It was over before one realized it had started. A snuffy little man in a black coat with a cold in his head asked a few questions, wrote a few words, and the thing was done." "That sounds rather . . . dreadful." "Reggie didn't seem to think so." "Unromantic, I mean. . . . Prosaic." "You would supply the romance." "Of course, one ought to be sensible.
Presently, as he entered the Grenfel box again, deafening applause broke forth. "We were just in time," said Ian Stafford, with an admiring, teasing laugh, as he gripped Byng's arm.
And Cronje with his burghers are out after him." The flaming match burned Byng's fingers. He threw it into the fireplace, and stood transfixed for a moment, his face hot with feeling, then he burst out: "But God! they're not ready at Johannesburg. The burghers'll catch him at Doornkop or somewhere, and " He paused, overcome. His eyes suffused. His hands went out in a gesture of despair.
Before Crothers could answer him, a snarl, then a yap, then a quick, determined growl gave warning of the terrier's interest in something else than fleas. He had been scratching himself peacefully a moment earlier; now, like a bower anchor taking charge, he ripped the chain through Byng's hand and was off chin, back and tail in one straight, striving line in full chase of a pariah.
The light of Byng's success soon died away and left the gloom to be illumined by a far-off flicker in the East.
Had Hawke or Boscawen met with Byng's disaster, they would not have gone to Gibraltar to repair it, unless the French admiral had followed up his first blow with others, increasing their disability. Grenada was no doubt very dear in the eyes of D'Estaing, because it was his only success. After making the failures at the Delaware, at New York, and at Rhode Island, with the mortifying affair at Sta.
Bapaume held out for five days longer while Byng pushed his right forward along the Somme towards Péronne, and extended his left attack northwards beyond the Scarpe. Byng's addition to the pressure the Germans had to bear from north of the Scarpe to south of the Oise imposed upon them a retreat as extensive as that of March and April 1917; but now they could not make it at their leisure.
All came off exactly as expected. De Wet doubled back through the columns, and one of his commandos stumbled upon Byng's men, who were waiting on the Vlei River to the west of Reitz. The Boers seem to have taken it for granted that, having passed the British driving line, they were out of danger, and for once it was they who were surprised.
They blew up a hundred-yard-long bridge behind him at the one point where a swiftly running river could be crossed, and from two other sides at once mutinied native regiments and thousands from the countryside flocked, hurrying to take a hand in what seemed destined to be Byng's last action.
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