Month: May 2024

only in gibraltar…

I remember my history teacher at secondary school explaining to me that the reason British soldiers wore red tunics in battle for over three centuries (starting during the English Civil War and ending with the Zulu War) was for two reasons; the first being to mask blood from wounds, and the second, because the sight of massed ranks of red-coated soldiers instilled awe and fear in the enemy.

Whatever the merits of either of these theories (and I think the revolutionary American armies would have had a their own distinctive opinion concerning the latter), the emergence of accurate, long-range rifles towards the end of the 19th century turned British redcoats from swaggering symbols of imperial might into haplass sitting ducks for snipers everywhere – from the Hindu Cush to the high velt.

Fortunately for the makers of the film Zulu, and little Adams throughout 1960’s UK, the red tunic was still in use by the British Army at the outset of the Zulu war of 1879. For, if the redcoat was nothing else, it was highly photogenic, especially against the majestic backdrop of the Drakensburg Mountains of Natal. Several historical inaccuracies notwithstanding (e.g. the British troops engaged belonged to the 2nd Warwickshires and not the Welsh Borderers, with most of the men hailing from Birmingham rather than South Wales, and the Zulu force being led by a young renegade prince, acting against the orders of King Cetshwayo), the film Zulu fired the imaginations of a generation of children. In my case, together with Rudolf Maté’s worthy-but-wooden 1963 offering of The 300 Spartans, Zulu began and shaped the entire course of my lifelong self-education in history, ancient and less-so.

All of which brings me to the slightly surreal photo which heads this piece – members of Gibraltar’s Reenactment Society, in uniforms of the Zulu War period, taking a lunchbreak in our local Burger King, here in Gibraltar. Every Saturday, throughout the Spring and Summer, this little band of enthusiasts, entertains (and in some cases perplexes) locals and tourists alike with a march or two up and down Main Street, to and from Casemates Square. Their uniforms cover most of the British imperial era, from the scarlet of the American and Napoleonic wars all the way to the khaki and green of WWII. And, although I’ve seen them on their well-earned breaks many times, normally with a refreshing pint in hand, and perhaps a slice of pizza, this scene struck me as particularly curious. So much so, a third practicality for the redcoat tunic occured to me that probably never occurred to men like Cornwallis and Wellington, that being a mask for ketchup stains as well as blood!