Dr. Douglas and the four men of the 24th Regiment referred to--Privates Murphy, Cooper, Bell, and Griffiths--earned their distinction at the Andaman Islands, in the Bay of Bengal, in May of 1869.

A small expedition had been sent thither to ascertain the fate of the captain and crew of the _Assam Valley_, who, it had been reported, had fallen victims to the natives. The graves of the unfortunate men were found on the Little Andaman, but when the search party returned to the shore they found themselves cut off from their ship by a tremendous high-running surf.

The Book of the V.C — Part 84

Their predicament having been observed, Dr. Douglas with the four privates named manned a gig and pulled in to their rescue. The first attempt to get through the breakers half swamped the boat, but a second attempt enabled them to save five men. On the third and last trip the remaining twelve members of the party were safely got off.

The Book of the V.C — Part 84

To read the bare official account of the affair is to gain but a poor impression of the bravery displayed by Dr. Douglas and his helpers. For a proper understanding of the daring nature of the deed one must have seen the immense surf rollers thundering on to the beach, and have appreciated the very slender chances of living through the boiling waters that a man would have if capsized from a boat. It was no ordinary rescue, and all five nobly earned their Crosses.

The Book of the V.C — Part 84

The years 1860 to 1865 witnessed a very stubborn war in New Zealand between the British and the Maoris, the original natives of the country. Many causes combined to make this war unduly long. In the first place the importance of the outbreak was underestimated, and the small force already in the islands was considered strong enough to cope with it; secondly, it was forgotten, or overlooked, that the Maoris, although incorrigibly lazy in times of peace, were a race of born fighters, to whom war was almost the chief end of existence; and thirdly, there was the difficult nature of the country itself, with its many forests and swamps, and miles on miles of dense, tangled bush. The odds were all in the Maoris’ favour at the outset.

For many years we had been at peace with the natives, a treaty having been signed by which we bound ourselves to respect the chiefs territorial rights. By 1860, however, a good deal of friction had arisen over purchases of land by the colonists, it being claimed by the Maoris that some of these transactions took place without the full consent of all the parties interested.