Every cavalryman must envy the hero of this book. Between 1936 and 1941 he led no less than five charges on horseback in Abyssinia, the final and most famous being the last cavalry charge that the British army has faced. And he survived to tell his tale. Indeed Tenente Amedeo Guillet is still living, aged 93, in Co. Meath, to which, very suitably, he retired for the hunting after a highly adventurous life, and where he still rides out.
The last charge of the British cavalry was, as far as I know, in 1920, on 13 July, by the 20th Hussars – a thousand yards’ successful dash against the flank of Kemal Ataturk’s advancing troops in the Ismid Peninsula during the Chanak crisis. Though there were still mounted yeomanry regiments in Palestine and Syria some 20 years later in 1941 – as readers of John Verney’s classic Going to the Wars will remember – they may have patrolled, but they were certainly never mad enough to charge their Vichy French enemies.
We all know about the wildly brave Polish lancers charging Panzer divisions in 1939. Amedeo, almost two years later, was equally reckless. His irregular force, the Gruppo Bande Amhara a Cavallo, was ordered to hold up the advancing British in the Eritrean lowlands for a day: 800 wild Ethiopian/Arab horsemen, 400 Yemeni mercenaries on foot, and 200 Camel Corps, a magical command for the six young Italian officers in charge under their Commandante Amedeo. In his three previous cavalry charges against Ethiopians, Amedeo had led a charmed life, with only bullet fragments in his left hand after two horses had been shot under him in 1936, but he had never had to face anything worse than shifta machine-gunners in 1938, though that was bad enough.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in