Amid all this frenzied building there was little major fighting. But the Russians launched sporadic raids at night against the trenches of the British and the French. Some of the most daring were led by a seaman called Pyotr Koshka, whose exploits were so famous that he became a national hero in Russia. It was not entirely clear to the allied troops what the purpose of these sorties was. They seldom caused any lasting damage to their defensive works, and the losses they inflicted on the men were trifling, usually less than the Russians lost themselves. Herbé thought their aim was to add to the allies’ fatigue because the constant threat of an attack at night made it impossible for them to sleep in the trenches (that was in fact the Russians’ intention). According to Major Whitworth Porter of the Royal Engineers, the first intimation of an imminent attack would be ‘the discovery of several dusky forms creeping over the parapet’.
The alarm is instantly given, and in another moment they are upon us. Our men, scattered as they are, are taken by surprise, give way step by step before the advancing foe, until at length they make a stand. And now a hand-to-hand struggle ensues. The cheers, the shouts, and the hallos of our men; the yells of the Russians raging like so many maniacs from the effects of the vile spirit with which they have been maddened before making the onslaught; the sharp cracks of the rifles, resounding momentarily on all sides; the hastily shouted words of command; the blast of the Russian bugle, ringing out clear in the midst of all of the din, sounding their advance – all conspire to render it a scene of confusion, enough to bewilder the steadiest nerves. When to this is added the probability that the scene of the struggle may be in a battery, where the numerous traverses, guns and other obstacles cumber up the space, and render it difficult for either party to act, some idea may be formed of this extraordinary spectacle. Sooner or later – generally in the course of a very few minutes – our men, having gathered together in sufficient numbers, make a bold dash forward, and drive the enemy headlong over the parapet. One smart volley is rattled after them to increase the speed of their flight, and the loud, ringing British cheer …29
The allies also launched surprise attacks against the Russian outworks – their aim being not to capture these positions but to weaken the morale of the Russian troops. The Zouaves were the ideal soldiers to carry out these raids: in hand-to-hand fighting they were the most effective in the world. On the night of 23/4 February, their celebrated 2nd Regiment stormed and briefly occupied the newly constructed White Works, just to show the Russians that they could capture them at will, before retreating with 203 wounded men, and 62 officers and soldiers dead, whom they carried back, under heavy fire, rather than abandon them to the Russians.30
In contrast to the sorties of the allies, some of the attacks by the Russians were large enough to suggest that their intention was to drive the allies from their positions, though in reality they were never powerful enough for that. On the night of 22/3 March, the Russians launched a sortie of some 5,000 men against the French positions opposite the Mamelon. It was their largest sortie yet. The brunt of the assault was taken by the 3rd Zouaves, who held off their attackers in fierce hand-to-hand fighting in the dark, illuminated only by the flashes of the rifles and muskets. The Russians spread out in a flanking movement and quickly captured the weakly defended British trenches on their right, from which they aimed their fire into the French side, but the Zouaves continued to hold firm, until at last British reinforcements arrived, enabling the Zouaves to push the Russians back towards the Mamelon. The sortie cost the Russians a great deal: 1,100 men were wounded, and more than 500 killed, nearly all of them in or near the trenches of the Zouaves. After the fighting was over, the two sides agreed to a six-hour armistice to collect the dead and wounded who were clogging up the battlefield. Men who had been at war only a few moments previously began to fraternize, speaking to each other with hand signals and the odd word in each other’s language, though nearly all the Russian officers could speak French well, the adopted language of the Russian aristocracy. Captain Nathaniel Steevens of the 88th Regiment of Foot witnessed the scene:
