[image description: Undyne in a, refless armor that’s more fashionable than it is functional. 

The pauldrons, chest plate, gauntlets, and faulds are a little scratched up, all in shades of dark blue greens. Thinner armor light blue-green underneath. A large green heart is in the center of the chest plate. 

One hand refers to herself below her chin, and the other rests on her hip. Her expression is an impatient one, with a narrowed brow and sharp teeth showing from an open scowl. Her eyes and teeth are a sickly yellow. Purple fins fan out from the sides of her face, connected between blue fronds. 

A longer purple fin, her hair, extends behind her to the right, spiky and damaged.]

reupload after last time, I picked up Illustrator again after, months

anonymous asked:

Yo the psion's masks were made by the cabal to inhibit a psion's ability to use it's powers to it's full potential, not to sound rude but wouldn't it make more sense for the psion to have removed the mask?

Good question! And, you’re not wrong- but there are a couple reasons why I left it like that. (I actually really love thinking and chatting about this kind of stuff, so I’ll try to explain some of my thought process here.) 

First off, I did purposefully modify the helmet a bit, specifically I removed the bits that seemed to be anchored into the cranium, because I assumed those were a part of the dampening process. For the same reason, I referenced the Red Legion Psions most heavily as they only have partial masks rather than the full helmet apparatuses that you see on the other Psions. And, actually I noticed while writing this out- the only free-born Psion that we’ve really been introduced to actually wears something quite similar, though more elaborate. So for all I know, such an apparatus might be necessary for survival on an alien world like earth.

Beyond that, I haven’t actually been able to find any references as to what they might look like without the masks, even in old concept art. Honestly the fact that they were cycloptic was a bit of a surprise itself, which we didn’t see until the arrival of the red legion. So, I don’t know where I would really even begin, since they are distinctly different from the rest of the Cabal. If anyone has a reference of that though, I would love to see!

And finally, it’s also a little bit of a matter of aesthetic. I personally like the long lines of the masks. It gives the Psions a very distinct look which I think is also important to keep in mind for the sake of recognizability, especially since I was intentionally changing the armor design and balance.

In all honesty though, these doodles started from drawing a Psion with too-long faulds and going “… you know what this looks like?” and running with it XD

Master of Light (Prestige Class - Bloodsworn)

Blood Knight, you are. A true Master of the Light.

Remember that. You are more than Paladin. You are an Innovation; The Strength of the Sin’dorei; The Fist of Quel’thalas. Reach out.

Take it.

It’s yours.

It’s always been yours.

This joke of Divinity is nothing but a wind-chime snapping underneath our Storm. Yes - yes, it will bite. Bite like a cornered rat. Like shards of broken glass.  You are stronger. You will heal. It will not.

Go on, reach out. Just like I told you.

Do you feel the way it recoils? Like a scared animal? It is weak. Frightened. What are you?

Strong, we hope. Brave, we hope. Merciless, we hope.

Enough to take from it. It resists you, you are the antithesis to its very nature. Are you strong enough to make iron bend? To turn away the hound’s bite? Make fire chilled? To turn something against its nature?

We will see soon enough.

When the first of our kind siphoned from M’uru, it was ecstatical and empowering. It did not come without its costs. For once our celebrations died, we found the weak in the darkness. Their temples were streaked with blood like riverstone. The ground of the Hall earned it its moniker heartily.

They were not worthy Blood Knights.

They were not true Masters of the Light.

Are you? We hope.

Curl your will around it now, like a fist. Dominate. There’s a blade in its hand. Like a desperate enemy. Squeeze its wrist. Turn it around. Bury that blade into its heart. Sup of the spilled blood. It is warm on your tongue, yes? Swallow. Push it down. Do not choke. Choke, and it will scorch your insides like fire in your gullet. Force it down into your gut.

Breathe, Blood Knight, BREATHE.







Do you feel it now? You’ve struggled with it, wrestled with it. You’ve taken your prize. Your trophy. It churns within you like blood. Different, yes? Quieted. Tamed. Dominated. It comes to your beck and call like a hound now, yes? Go on.

Try it.

Call upon it as you do your own voice. Do you see how easily it comes to you? You’ve cowed it. Do you not find it laughable on how we once groveled to this? Do you see it for what it is now? This Light?

It is a tool. This is no icon, no divinity.

Divinity would not bend to us as this does.

We are beyond worship.

We are Blood Knight.

Masters of Light.


My name is Thanidiel Highdawn, Knight-Master of the Order. I will be your benefactor from now on, Initiates. Do not disappoint. Your first order of business? Gather the weak. Dispose of them. There is a corpse-cart awaiting you in the Square.


Thanidiel awakens to the sear of Light in her vision, her blood. It is reminiscent to the overwhelming of the white flash of a mana-bomb going off. She’s used to it. Too used to it. The frequency of which her Light shot through her body, pulsing hot like a heartbeat, has increased since her enlistment into the Guard.

One. Two. Three. Big inhale. Count to ten. Big exhale. Count to ten.

Her head lolls to its left-side, eyeing that standing spear burrowed into the powdered earth. Her eye draws down to the shadow left at its feet from the light that enters through the open center of the tent-roof. Six hours into the new day.

Her head lolls to its right-side, greeted by thick tresses of black hair. A crushing moment after, affection blooms through the Blood Knight. Circulating through her body. It does not derive so much from the other woman herself, but of the more base stir for touch between oneself and their companions.

Before she rises, Thanidiel buries her face into that dark mass, her draping forearm braces gently across the other’s collarbones. A chagrined husk of a groan meets her ears a second later even as the Emberward is already rolling out of bed. She readjusts the furs.

Fire has died down to a mass of hot, red embers. The Knight-Champion is already striding to the opposite side of the large tent. Wood, split apart the day before, is brought and cross-hatched loosely. Dried plant is shredded fine into kindling in her hands, stuffed into the slowly heating spaces in between.

Bindings, socks, trousers, tunic. Gambeson, boots. Hauberk. Breastplate, faulds and tassets, vambraces. Gloves. Tyleril’s sword to left-hip. Fur-cloak.

….Eye-patch. Twist hair into a bun. Wet her mouth with a swish of flasked coffee.


Her boots crunch into a thick layer of snow when she exits the tent, She makes sure to secure the flap well. She needs to do something. She needs to act. Her blood is throbbing with Light.

She makes for the training grounds. Thanidiel makes for the most scarce region of it – where spellweavers fling their magicks. She can feel the way that the air goes stagnant and warm from the saturation of arcana when she steps through runic borders. The chill of Northrend bites no longer.

It doesn’t take long from her passing into the warded area for the Emberward to call upon the energies roiling so violently with her. The floodgates open. Fury pours out of her. Torrentous and lashing, like belting waves of the ocean thrashing ships to pieces. The relentless heat of the flames she beckons makes her think of the foundries of Ironforge. Sinuses fill with the scent of ozone as the violet ward buckles – again and again – against whips of Light, the caustic air of scorched earth and the organic matter within.

This outpour of her choler provides no liberation. Instead, in the fashion of a wildfire eating through a forest, her exercise only serves to stoke the blaze to higher and ever-higher intensity. A pyre, a stake. It is consuming.

She can’t tell if its the smoke that makes her lungs spasm so violently in her chest or the rage within her. This wildness clutches her heart like a vice. There is no sanctuary for the Blood Knight in this ferocity.

How did she get like this? So tempestuous and out-of-control?

—Stop, that’s a foolish question. The answer is there.

The question… is the answer.

Fuck, she’s sounding like Ithanar.

She was always like this, will always be like this. Less elf, more brazen bull waiting for a gust of air to stoke the trembling coals inside.

This reintroduction to her Light, so wroth, fitful and ever-stirring, hasn’t made anything better.

She can feel the air grow inhospitable to life, slowly and surely, as she continues to thrash her flames into the magical barrier around her. Her eye catches the shining glint of steel in the haze of acrid smoke.

This Lightforged blade.

“A cold mercy.”

All poise and control. The submission of both metal and Light through will and hammer-beat. The thought turns in her head then, like key within lock. She had lost her way. Had forgotten what it was like, over the last five years, to bring Light under her heel, hold its collar in her grip. Calling upon these energies after such dormance, Thanidiel had wandered like a babe into forest - lost.

She can hear the vague surge of a growl, her?, in the din of the roar of flame and the crack of force striking the runic ward-shield around her. Something new churns in her, then. She recalls the lessons of old.

She squeezes the nerves of the wrist.

She turns the blade ‘round.

Breathe, Blood Knight, BREATHE.

Do not choke.


It is separate no longer.

It is mine.

The last lash of her Light billows out different: no longer wild and dispersed like flame, but like the searing cut of a blade. Controlled, powerful, more deadly than one would ever think. The way that a pin penetrates cloth with ease.

“The delayed feeling of pain when a sharpened blade cuts through your flesh. A cold mercy.”

The shimmering barrier holds. One… two… three. And then tranquility shatters. Wind, so powerful as to drag the Knight-Champion to her knees like a rag-doll, pours over her frame as two systems become whole, and the universe asserts its need of equilibrium. The smother of smoke and dead air is replaced by the freezing chill of Icecrown.

The Emberward is almost keenly aware, then, of the glossy sweat that has poured in rivulets down her face. The cold is working to crystallise it already. She disperses it with the wipe of her leather gloves.

Blood Knight, you are. A true Master of the Light.


(( @jessipalooza @tyleril-silversword @captainswingbeard for mentions and @felthier @thesunguardmg ))

with a Revamped monster. It need a Revamped armor design

PALOXYS HELM: A mask made from the Hide and Fins of a Paloxys, Thin and Sleek skin mask the danger of the crown of thorns on the wearers head.
PALOXYS MAIL: A chestplate made from the Hide and Fins of a Paloxys, The skin cloak is a Sign of overcoming the Demons from beneath the Bog.
PALOXYS BRACES: Armguards made from the Hide and Fins of a Paloxys, These Gauntlets work as weapons themselves, Bearing Sharp claws just like the Paloxys.
PALOXYS FAULDS: A cloak made from the Hide and Fins of a Paloxys, Shortened for manueverability, yet the spikes are just as deadly.
PALOXYS GREAVES: Boots made from the Hide and Fins of a Paloxys, Lined with spikes. Allows the chance to Grind foes beneath your heel.

           +ATTACK UP (SMALL)
           -DOUBLE HUNGER

sosungalittleclodofclay  asked:

Is there a particular name for the plate armor with mail covering the usual spots(knees armpits groin)?

The usual term is “transitional plate” or “transitional armour”.

The usual helmet was a bascinet, often with a “hounskull” visor (the pointy-nosed one) or “klappvisor” (the flattish round-nosed one) and a camail/aventail, the curtain of mail attached to the edge of the helmet and coming down over the shoulders. This sometimes had a “bretache”, a nose-cover that clipped to the brow of the bascinet and pulled the aventail up to protect the face.

Body-armour was either a short breastplate over the hauberk, or a coat-of-plates (small plates riveted between layers of fabric then buckled on at sides or back.) Limb armour was either early plate over mail (often the plate was just on the outside of the limb) or splinted armour which was made like the coat-of-plates but used long splints (hah!) of metal rather than small plates.

The armour from Schloss Churburg and from the memorial of Edward the Black Prince are excellent examples of transitional style.

As time went on, if mail could be replaced with plate then it usually was: the camail became a gorget (plate turtleneck), the skirt of the hauberk was augmented with tassets (panels over the upper thigh) and a fauld (plate hoop-skirt) of various lengths depending on style (Milanese favoured long faulds, Gothic preferred short), the armour for arms and legs enclosed the entire limb and instead of a complete hauberk of mail over a padded gambeson, it shrank to panels of mail sewn onto an arming doublet at the vulnerable points of armpits, elbows and crotch.


you honestly wouldn’t believe how happy i was when i found out i can have both the cape and the jotaro cap

Anyways this is my hammer set specifically tailored to like any hammer with natural purple sharpness like the Qadar Sedition so no sharpness +1 unfortunately. However it has a lot of great skills while looking great itself so i’m happy

  • Esurient Helm Z O–
  • Garuga Mail X OO-
  • Esurient Vambraces Z O–
  • Esuient Faulds Z —
  • Excello Greaves Z OO-
  • Creator Talisman Fast Charge +6/Expert +7 OOO
  • Earplug Jewel 1 x2
  • Razor Jewel 1 x1
  • Attack Jewel 1 x1
  • Attack Jewel 2 x1
  • Attack Jewel 3 x1

With all of these I was able to get:

  • Attack Up (XL)
  • HG Earplugs
  • Critical Eye +1
  • Razor Sharp

and with the Qadar Sedition honed for Power i feel like the fucking strong

Cloudburst (Alistair/F!Tabris)

Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Alistair/F!Tabris
Summary: Alistair and Tabris find shelter from a sudden, violent rainstorm. It looks like they’re going to be there a while…“

From a prompt from misachi-chan​.
Also on AO3


They are a day and a half’s journey away from Denerim when the sky begins to darken. The party’s cheerful mood all but evaporates as the oncoming storm approaches, and Emylina gives a heavy sigh at the first peal of thunder. She halts, bringing the group to a full stop with a wave of her hand.

“Let’s set up the tents quickly, before the rain comes,” she says, already setting her pack down and rifling through it to retrieve the poles for hers. “With any luck, the shower will pass swiftly.”

But there is no such luck to be had; the cloudburst that comes less than a minute later soaks everyone to their skin before they can finish propping up their tents. Drenched, Emylina ducks inside the moment the canvas is taut and sturdy, and begins tearing off her armor at once.

“Slow down there,” Alistair says as he follows her inside, a smile on his face. “Let me.”

Emylina’s expression softens as he approaches and starts working at the first buckle of her breastplate. Her hands reach up to his hair, petting lovingly as he pulls her armor away, piece by piece.

Life on the road affords the two lovers few opportunities to properly express their affection for one another. Alistair takes advantage of every one of those opportunities; by now, his removal of her armor is a matter of routine. On most days, he takes his time, kissing each new inch of bared flesh as he works. Today, however, they are both soaking wet, and urgency is required more than tenderness.

For Emylina, it is sweet all the same. She’s never had another person dote on her the way Alistair does; since marriages were always arranged in the alienage, relationships there were based on circumstance and necessity to begin with, not affection.

She starts to help Alistair out of his own armor as he moves on to remove her fauld; together, they manage to extricate themselves from their many pieces of heavy plate, which they then set to work drying meticulously. Neither of them talk, save for a muttered thank you when a cloth or the jar of polishing wax is passed between them; instead, they focus on their task in comfortable silence.

Only after an hour passes, and Emylina is polishing her last bit of armor, does Alistair speak.

“If we are to be delayed,” he says slowly, in a tone that suggests he’s planning something, “might we crack open this wine a little early?”

She chuckles as she wrings the water out of her damp hair. “And where did you get that?” she asks, eyeing the unfamiliar red bottle in his hand.

“Might have neglected to mention buying this in the last town,” he replies. “I was going to wait until we got to Denerim, but I think we could use a little pick-me-up, wouldn’t you say?”

“And what of our companions? I fear if you uncork it there shall be none left for them by the time the sun returns.”

“They’ll have to find their own pick-me-up,” Alistair says, opening the bottle. “I got this just for us.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, turning away before he can see the blush on her cheeks. “I thought – Never mind.”

“What, you thought I’d spend as many silvers as I did for this wine for just anybody?”

“No, it’s … it took me by surprise.”

“That I’d want to do something special for you for no reason?”


“It’s not too much is it?” Now it’s his turn to falter, to blush. “It doesn’t have to be a special, romantic-type thing if it is, we can just drink it because we want to get drunk or pass the time, or – ”

Emylina silences him with a finger pressed to his lips. “It’s … really nice.” Her arms wrap around his waist. “And what if I do want it to be a romantic-type thing?”

Alistair’s face breaks into a grin. “That can be arranged,” he says, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Keep reading


Makuta the Dark
This guy is so big, yet he stays up quite nice. The only part I didn’t like was his faulds get in the way of posing his legs. But given how the pieces are limited, I understand quite well. His staff spins via gears in the drill, he has arm spiny gears that work strangely well, and he has his Predator arm claw.

Part’s used in my Mixed Set

Skull visage- Torso Up _ _ _

Garuga Mail X- OO_ -Evasion Jewel 2

Garuga Vambraces X OO_ -Razor Jewel 1 2x

Nargacuga Faulds X OOO -Expert Jewel 3

Maiden’s Socks X _ _ _ Torso Up

Creator Talisman O_ _  Dragon Atk +7 Evasion +9

Active Skills
Evasion +3
HG Earplugs
Critical Eye +1
Razor Sharp

anonymous asked:

hello, rah! i saw your post about the stomach armour, and it was wonderful; i've just got a few things i'd like to add: 1) the pinyin for the "robe belly" is technically "pao du" (w/o diacritics) not "pao tue," though they sound pretty much the same when spoken aloud. 2) i believe this armour also referred to as a "fauld" (plate armour covering the hips and stomach), in case you/anyone else is looking for an english term for it!

Hey! Thank you so much for the info! I really appreciate it! :D

1) ok cool! Good to know! I don’t speak any flavor of Chinese at all!!!

2) You are right, faulds are very similar! They are bands of metal plate that cover the thigh area like a skirt.

The chinese armor I looked at often had knee-length faulds in addition to the pao du.

Another bit of armor that’s very similar is the tasset belt:

You may notice that both of these are made of metal instead of fabric, and neither of they come up above the belt. :D

morec4  asked:

Loremaster, the mantle of the champion (warrior) baffles me. How does Hawke put it on? Why is there a chainmail back cover when they're already wearing plate especially on the torso? Please help...

All Views of Armor, I kind of wish I had better drawing skills so I could visual show each layer.

And I just love the chainmail loincloth lmao, but yes the how does this work thing?

Honest answer: It doesn’t and it’s just Fantasy magic/aesthetic at play.

Lore-ish answer: So the first part of the outfit or the under-layer is pretty much a two piece chainmail jumpsuit, the shirt coming down in the loincloth I mentioned while the leggings are full cover. Leather boots are placed on with matching gloves.

The faulds and thigh pieces are attached with a large leather belt, you can see it beneath the loincloth accessory above. A heel spike is added with the knee armor and solleret (boot armor) strapped into place, finishing up the bottom half.

For upper body, the chestplate is placed on and secured through some unseen method. Most likely belts or ties with Hawke’s Final Fantasy aesthetic going on.

The back, chainmail/leather piece is added and laced. It is secured around the waist with a knotted leather belt (see below for front view) and laced on with small belts/ties. Obviously for Aesthetic! and maybe to protect the unseen mechanism for the chestplate, since you can see there is none on the sides and no seams for them on the sides. also maybe booty padding???

The pauldrons and gauntlets then go on after the back piece, the pauldrons looped in a ring between the shoulders and secured on with leather underlay and belts.

Lastly, the iconic red scarf is looped through several rings (which I’m assuming are sewn into the scarf itself?), one above the left pauldron, one below the left armpit, and one behind the neck/neck guard.

Giving Hawke their pointy, pretty uncomfortable, pretty impractical, and slightly impossible DA2 Warrior look.

So yeah, that’s my half serious take on this and as an aside, there is no way Hawke could get in or out of this without a ton of help. Especially with the claw gauntlets and all the laces, straps, and buckles in the back.


Warden cosplay progress pt. 5

Magfest and Katsucon IM ALMOST READY

I aged the armor a little more than in game (Okay in Inquisition they are literally beacons of light that have never seen battle or damage in their creation dont judge me, it was my preference.)

I gotta velcro everything to hell and back, but this was the first fitting!! Im excited, as everything (but the gloves and faulds) are really comfortable.
Onto the weapons!


[From the Author - Progress: Days 11-14]

Well, after taking a hiatus and working through some personal issues, I think it’s about time for a progress note. This week, I got started on painting and priming, as well as carving out and assembling the faulds (hip guards). The progress hasn’t been as fast as I’d like it to be (due to work and abject laziness during my free time), but I’m still confident that I’ll be able to have everything wrapped up within the next week or two. Having already made the rerebraces and gauntlets, I’ll be working on the vambraces and couters this weekend before getting to the leg armour (which promises to be an absolute, screaming b*tch). If you have any feedback or advice, please feel free to drop me an ask and I thank you all for your continuous support!

Man… A lot of medieval armor pieces sound dirty… “Can you help me with my cuirass?  My tassets are just too big and it’s riding up and grinding against my bevor.  No, no, stop touching my cuisses.  It’s my tassets that are misbehaving.  Ugh.  Just…Just help me get my rerebraces and couters off and I’ll help.  NO!  Get your hands out of my faulds!  Keep that up and I’ll put my sabaton right up your culet!

aviatorlad  asked:

Hi there. I am a huge fan of history, I have a passion for learning and just exploring it, and being South African I was wondering if you had any photographs on the battle of delvellie wood? Amazing blog, keep up the awesome stuff

The Battle of Delville Wood (15 July – 3 September 1916) was a series of engagements in the 1916 Battle of the Somme in the First World War, between the armies of the German Empire and the British Empire. Delville Wood (Bois d'Elville), was a thick tangle of trees, chiefly beech and hornbeam (the wood has been replanted with oak and birch by the South African government), with dense hazel thickets, intersected by grassy rides, to the east of Longueval. As part of a general offensive starting on 14 July, which became known as the Battle of Bazentin Ridge (14–17 July), General Douglas Haig, Commander of the British Expeditionary Force, intended to capture the German second position between Delville Wood and Bazentin le Petit.

The 1st South African Infantry brigade was affected to the 9th (Scottish) Division in May 1916, replacing the disbanded 28th Brigade.


General Officer commanding : Brigadier General Henry Timson LUKIN

1st South African Infantry Regiment (Cape of Good Hope)

Lieutenant-Colonel F.S. DAWSON

2nd  South African Infantry Regiment (Natal and Orange Free State)

Lieutenant-Colonel W.E.C. TANNER

3rd South African Infantry Regiment (Transvaal and Rhodesia)

Lieutenant-Colonel E.F. THACKERAY

4th  South African Infantry Regiment (South African Scottish)

Lieutenant-Colonel F.A. JONES

Before the battle : men of the 4th South African Infantry Regiment take a rest along a road (Delville Wood Museum)

14th JULY

The ridge was attacked at 03. 35 am by the 26th and 27th Brigades of the 9th (Scottish) Division. The South African Infantry Brigade was in reserve and was initially planned to take part to the “cleaning” of the village and the wood. The Scots seized the southern part of the village and patrols of the 8th Black Watch got into the wood. But Germans held in the northern part of the village, strongly fortified, and strengthened in the wood. The fierce fighting in the village and around Waterlot Farm had caused heavy losses among the assailants. The 1st SAI was sent in the village to assist in clearing the South of Longueval and the three others South African regiments were to be ordered to penetrate the wood, but the advance was postponed for the following morning.

The Short  Magazine Lee-Enfield (SMLE) Mark III was the standard rifle of the British Army during the First World War. It appeared in 1907 and was producted in India from 1909 and in Australia from 1913. It remained in British service until 1957. Many variants were producted during this long career. Accurate and reliable, the SMLE established itself as one of the best rifles of the war in spite of its relative complexity. An experienced soldier was able to fire as many as 15 rounds a minute in target.

15th JULY

At 05. 00 am, the first South African soldiers penetrated the wood under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Tanner. The progress was slow because of the tangles of trees destroyed by the first shellings. At noon, the whole wood, except its northwestern part, too strongly defended, was under control. The entrenchment began, but this was difficult by the nature of the ground strewn with roots and by a  constant bombardment including gas shells, all under a stifling heat. Moreover, Germans launched three counter attacks, all repulsed. The brilliant marksmanship of the South Africans was given its opportunity. The rate of German shelling often reached 400 shells per minute, with all calibres. The casualties were heavy and the only reserve of the Brigade consisted of three companies, despite the fact that the 1st SAI had returned to Lukin’s command.

Before the attack, two companies of the 4th SAI were detached to the 5th Cameron Highlanders.  They took part to the attack of Waterlot Farm, which was not taken till the following day. They joined the South African Brigade in Delville Wood.

16th JULY

All through the furious night of the 15th, South Africans were digging trenches to save their lives. At 2.35am, Lukin received orders from the Division  that the portion held by enemy must be taken. Without artillery preparation, the attack, by the Royal Scots from the village and the 1st SAI from Prince Street, was a failure and the attacking troops fell back.  It was then that Private W.F. FAULDS won his Victoria Cross. It was during this hot and dusty day that appeared the first difficulties to bring up food and water. Also, the evacuation of the wounded became perilous. Lieutenant Colonel Dawson, C.O. of the 1st Regiment, asked for a relief. But fresh troops could not yet be spared for the work. The Division ordered that the wood must be held at all cost. Moreover, another attack against the north-west corner was ordered for the next morning.

17th JULY

In spite of an artillery preparation, this attack, made shortly before dawn by the 1st and 2nd SAI, did not succeed. Germans were stubborn defenders. In the morning, General Lukin visited the wood and was worried about the fatigue of his men. He had now no troops which had not been in action for at least forty-eight hours. A fight in a wood was the most wearing king of battle and the most of the South Africans had to wait under a continuous machine-gun and artillery fire. On his return at his headquarters, Lukin discussed the situation on the telephone with General Furse, C.O. of the 9th (Scottish) Division, but could get no hope of relief or reinforcements. Moreover, the instructions from the XIII Corps stood that the wood must be held at any cost. Delville wood became a death-trap.

Lieutenant-Colonel Tanner was wounded in the evening and Lieutenant-Colonel Thackeray succeeded him in charge of the troops in the wood.

18th JULY

This fourth day was the crisis of the battle for the defenders. In the night, a strong enemy attack was launched and Germans advanced as far as Buchanan Street and Princes Street. A costly counter-attack expelled them. At 3.45am, The 3rd Division succeeded to take the orchard in the North of Longueval and the 1st SAI joined hands with the 1st Gordon Highlanders. But this sudden success was due to the fact that German infantry had evacuated the orchard for a barrage of its artillery. At 8.00am, a bombardment of an unprecedented severity was open on the wood and Longueval. Every part of the area was searched and smothered by shells until 3.30pm. The 3rd Division was expelled from the northern part of Longueval and fresh German troops began to enter the wood from all sides. To the great surprise of the attackers, the handful of South African survivors gave a stubborn resistance and took place a fierce fighting with high losses on both sides. In many parts of the wood, were “duels” between attackers parties and resistance pockets, sometimes at reversed front. It is not easy to reproduce the circumstances of events of this painful day, because many of the protagonists were killed. The South African soldiers, driven back to the southwestern part of the wood delimited by Princes Street and Buchanan Street, installed there a pocket of resistance, assisted by Highlanders of the division. A new German division was committed to expel them : it never succeeded.

19th JULY

          All through the 19th the gallant handful suffered incessant shelling and sniping and repulsed the attackers with heavy loss. On the eastern edge of the wood, the remains of the 3rd SAI, which had successfully resisted the thrust of the German infantry on their front, were now effectively cut off. 190 men were captured. The first relief  by the 26th Brigade begun in difficult conditions.

Bronze plaque depicting trench scene at the Battle of Delville Wood, Cenotaph, Heerengracht Street, Cape Town, South Africa. “The trench scene represents the burnt-out Delville Wood in July 1916 when held by SA forces.”

20th JULY

           Germans launched several attacks against Thackeray’s band but could not overrun them. The colonel himself fought with rifle and grenade on the parados of the trench. Finally, in the evening the promised relief arrived with the men of the 3rd Division. Thackeray marched out with two officers, both of whom were wounded, and 140 other ranks, made up of details from all the units of the Brigade. He spent the night at Talus Boisé, and the next day joined the rest of the Brigade at Happy Valley.

Out of the 121 officers and 3 032 other ranks who formed the Brigade on 14th July in morning, only 29 officers and 751 other ranks were present at roll call when the unit was gathered some days after the battle. The heroic resistance of the South African Brigade, against the flower of the German Army, had saved the southern part of the British line.

The wood remained the scene of bitter fighting for more than one month and units of seven British divisions was committed there. Finally, Delville Wood was entirely in the hands of Allies at the end of August when the 14th (Light) Division captured it for good. It remained in the first line till 15th September 1916 when the great attack with tanks « took away » the front eastwards and northwards.







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