21st September 1914, Near Ghoy.
C Squadron the 12th (Royal) Lancers had just secured the village of Ghoy, without a shot being fired, it was just before dawn the sky slowly brightening but with pockets of mist and fog making visibility difficult and deadening sound.
One young trooper thought he heard a horse whinny, not very far in the distance, he gave word back to his corporal of what he had heard, soon the Squadron Commander was by his side and he gave a nervous but clear explanation. They waited side by side the trooper and the Major, the sun rose a little higher and the wind picked up, not more than 400 yards away was a squadron of German Cavalry, dismounted their horses unsaddled and the men gathering by the cook fires for their breakfast completely unaware of their hazzard.
The major goggled, this was an opportunity to write himself into the history of the regiment, one he had served for 20 years like his father and grandfather before him, back in fact to a young cornet who had served alongside Arthur Wellesley.
He gave his orders rapidly, the squadron was as well drilled with the SMLE as with the Lance but they were cavalry not grubbing infantry and a charge against an unsuspecting and dismounted foe was the perfect thing for a Lancer.
The squadron assembled, the bugler sounded the form line and the lancers shook out into a line three horses deep then came the field call advance trot. At the sound of the first bugle call the German cavalry appeared to panic, some men freezing in place others running for their horses, officers shouted orders.
Once the distance had narrowed to a few hundred yards the Squadron Commander gave the order and the Bugler sounded the charge. Lances were couched and the cavalry lunged forward at a gallop, the German Cavalry receiving the charge were completely disordered, unprepared to receive a charge some were attempting mount their horses, others had drawn their carbines and were shooting back, a few men had drawn swords and were about to do something that they knew would not work, hold of a man equipped with a 9 ft long lance with a 3 ft long sword, none however ran.
The collision when it came was brutal, the lance was a difficult weapon, it had never been in widespread service in the British Army but the men of the 12th were experts. Nine feet of steel shod ash driven by the 1200 pounds of horse and rider at thirty miles an hour is unstoppable, many men were simply spitted, lances torn from the riders hand by the shock of the collision. The German unit shattered, what little cohesion it had before the charge disintegrated under the impact. The Lancers rode through the Germans, the orders continuing to flow from the bugle, they wheeled around and charge back through the German position. Many of the dismounted men had begun to flee, this simply made them an irresistible target as the lancers almost competed to see who could skewer the most men.
The tide of death radiated outwards from the bivouac, a knot of men remained in the centre, they were the few who had not panicked when the British cavalry over ran them, they fought now most equipped with carbines a few officers with pistols, but they were sadly outnumbered and the British cavalry disdained a second charge against their numbers, instead they withdrew to cover and shot them down with the superior SMLE.
No prisoners were taken, that being contrary to the nature of a cavalry charge and the squadron reformed, to continue their advance.