On the 13th of September Captain Taylor declared that the breaches in the walls were large enough to admit of a successful assault, so Baird Smith, ill and harassed, weak and lame as he was, mapped out precise directions for five columns to attack the city at various points. Nicholson was appointed to the first column, and when the others should join him in the city he was to take command of the whole force.
Our friends were with the 4th Column. This force, of which Reid (though but a major) was made commandant in consideration of the splendid way in which he had held the Ridge, consisted of detachments of European regiments, the Sirmur Battalion, the Guides Infantry, and the Rajah of Jummu's contingent. Its duty was to sweep through the suburbs of Paharunpur and Kishengang, clearing these of the enemy, and then enter the city by the Lahore Gate. Major Reid gathered his officers together to give them final instructions, and then, accompanied by Ensign Russell, entered the Gurkha hospital, where he told his wounded heroes the plans for the morrow. The scene was one that cut Ted to the heart. Of those five hundred men, whose proud arrival he had witnessed three months ago, only five score remained fit for duty, and many even of this hundred had been wounded or were now suffering from injuries which the tough and indomitable little fellows did not consider sufficiently severe to keep them from their work. On the floor (for there were no cots) lay one hundred and fifty badly-wounded and maimed Gurkhas--the remainder had lost their lives guarding their trust. The hearts of the officers could not but be greatly touched by the sight of such suffering so nobly borne, but Reid's sadness was mingled with pride that he commanded so gallant a regiment. The Gurkhas glanced up at their officer with dog-like looks of affection, and right proud they were too of such a commandant. Sorrowfully he told the men lying there, listening, regardless of their pain, that only one hundred of his own plucky lads would be able to follow him to the assault. As though the word of command had been given, every little Gurkha in that room sprang up or painfully rose to his knees and vowed to follow the chief, even if he had to crawl or limp to the attack. Tears came to the eyes of both Englishmen at the sight of such loyal devotion, and they endeavoured to dissuade, but the little hillmen insisted. Of those hundred and fifty men who had been reported by the doctor as unfit for service, ninety-five were allowed to go,[23] and we can guess what torture from unhealed wounds and from sickness they must have cheerfully undergone. But go they would, for the honour of the Sirmur Battalion, and Reid's heart was cheered by the thought that he had now two hundred of his own mountaineers at his back.