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A classic in small unit tactics in the British and U.S. Army, I
recommend this small book, without qualification, to the modern
professional soldier.
What would you do?
Lieutenant Backsight Forethought (BF to his friends) has been left in
command of a 50 man reinforced platoon to hold Duffer's Drift, the only
ford on the Silliasvogel River available to wheeled traffic. Here is
his chance for fame and glory. He has passed his officers courses and
special qualifications.
"Now if they had given me a job," says BF, "like fighting the Battle of
Waterloo, I knew all about that, as I had crammed it up..."
While BF's task appears simple enough, the Boer enemy causes a
multitude of problems, but you, smart reader, with a quick mind and
sharp intellect will, no doubt, solve the problem before the first shot
is fired.
About the Author:
Major General Sir Ernest D. Swinton, K.B.E., C.B., D.S.O., was a noted
English soldier, author, and professor. Considered by Field Marshal
Earl Wavell as one of the most far-sighted officers the British Army
has produced, he wrote before World War I on the effects of air
warfare, mining and of psychological warfare. In 1914 Sir Swinton
completely revolutionized warfare by his invention of the tank; he,
more than anyone else, was responsible for its introduction and
development. He served as Professor of Military History at Oxford from
1925 to 1939, and later as Commandant of the Royal Tank Corps from 1934
to 1938 - earning the rank of Major General.
As a Captain, shortly after service in the Boer War, he wrote "The
Defense of Duffer's Drift," using the pseudonym, Lieutenant Backsight
Forethought, or BF. Duffer's Drift has become a military classic on
minor tactics in this century. In addition to Duffer's Drift, and
contributing to many journals, he authored The Green Curve in 1909 and
The Great Tab Dope, in 1915, under the pseudonym O'le Luk-Oie
(Olaf Shut-eye). His other works include The Study of War in 1926 and
his final publication, An Eastern Odyssey written in 1935.
BACKGROUND INFORMATION
(THE BOER WAR)
The Boers, Dutch for farmer, first settled what is now Cape Province,
Republic of South Africa in 1652. After Great Britain annexed this
territory in 1806, many of the Boers departed on the "Great Trek" and
created the Republic of Natal, the Orange Free State, and the
Transvaal. Gradual commercial control by the British and discovery of
gold and diamonds, among other things, served to create hostility
between the Boers and British, resulting in the South African War or
Boer War from 1899 to 1902. The Boers initially outnumbered the British
and were well equipped, scoring impressive victories in the areas
adjacent to their territories. Even though the Boer armies finally
surrendered, apparent victory for the British was retarded by extensive
and coordinated guerilla warfare. The war was finally ended by the
systematic destruction of the Boer guerrilla units and hostilities were
terminated by the Treaty of Vereeniging in May 1902. The Boer
territories were annexed by Great Britain and were organized into the
Union of South Africa eight years later.
GLOSSARY:
ABATIS: A barricade of felled trees with branches facing the enemy.
ANT HILL: A large cone-shaped mound of earth.
BOER: Descendents of Dutch Colonists in South Africa.
DONGA: South African gully or ravine.
DRIFT: A ford, a shallow place in a stream or river that can be crossed by walking or riding on horseback.
DUFFER: An incompetent, awkward or stupid person.
KAFFIR: A fierce black tribe of South Africa (19th Century).
KOPJE: A rocky hill or butte of South Africa usually 200- 800 meters high.
KRAALS: A village of South African natives surrounded by a stockade for protection.
QUI VIVE: Fr., a sentry’s challenge; "who goes there?"
SUBALTERN: A British officer holding a commission below that of captain; a lieutenant.
VELD: A grassy plain of South Africa, similar to the Western Tableland of the United States.
VC: Victoria Cross, highest British medal for valor.
PREFACE:
"It was our own fault, and our very grave fault, and now we must turn
it to use. We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single
excuse." KIPLING.
This tale of a dream is dedicated to the "gilded Popinjays" and "hired
assassins" of the British nation, especially those who are now knocking
at the door, to wit the very junior. It embodies some recollections of
things actually done and undone in South Africa, 1899-1902. It is hoped
that its fantastic guise may really help to emphasize the necessity for
the practical application of some very old principles, and assist to an
appreciation of what may happen when they are not applied, even on
small operations. This practical application has often been lost sight
of in the stress of the moment, with dire results, quite unrealized
until the horrible instant of actual experience. Should this tale, by
arousing the imagination, assist to prevent in the future even one such
case of disregard of principles, it will not have been written in vain.
The dreams are not anticipations, but merely a record of petty
experiences against one kind of enemy in one kind of country only, with
certain deductions based thereupon. But from these, given the
conditions, it is not difficult to deduce the variations suitable for
other countries, or for those occasions when a different foe with
different methods of
fighting and different weapons has to be met.
"BACKSIGHT FORETHOUGHT"
PROLOGUE:
Upon an evening after a long and tiring trek, I arrived at Dreamdorp.
The local atmosphere, combined with a heavy meal, is responsible for
the following nightmare, consisting of a series of dreams. To make the
sequence of the whole intelligible, it is necessary to explain that
though the scene of each vision was the same, by some curious mental
process I had no recollection of the place whatsoever. In each dream
the locality was totally new to me, and I had an entirely fresh
detachment. Thus, I had not the great advantage of working over
familiar ground. One thing, and one only, was carried on from dream to
dream, and that was the vivid recollection of the general lessons
previously learnt. These finally produced success.
The whole series of dreams, however, remained in my memory as a connected whole when I awoke.
First Dream
"Any fool can get into a hole." — Old Chinese Proverb.
"If left to you, for defence make spades. " — Bridge Maxim.
I felt lonely, and not a little sad, as I stood on the bank of the
river near Duffer’s Drift and watched the red dust haze, raised by the
southward departing column in the distance, turn slowly into gold as it
hung in the afternoon sunlight. It was just three o’clock, and here I
was on the banks of the Silliaasvogel river, left behind by my column
with a party of fifty NCOs and men to hold the drift. It was an
important ford, because it was the only one across which wheeled
traffic could pass for some miles up or down the river.
The river was a sluggish stream, not now in flood, crawling along at
the very bottom of its bed between steep banks which were almost
vertical, or at any rate too steep for wagons anywhere except at the
drift itself. The banks from the river edge to their tops and some
distance outwards, were covered with dense thorn and other bushes,
which formed a screen impenetrable to the sight. They were also broken
by small ravines and holes, where the earth had been eaten away by the
river when in flood, and were consequently very rough.
Some 2000 odd meters north of the drift was a flat- topped, rocky
mountain, and about a mile to the north-east appeared the usual
sugerloaf kopje, covered with bushes and boulders-steep on the south,
but gently falling to the north; this had a farm on the near side of
it. About 1000 meters south of the drift was a convex and smooth hill,
somewhat like an inverted basin, sparsely sown with small boulders, and
with a Kaffir kraal, consisting of a few grass mud huts on top. Between
the river and the hills on the north the ground consisted of open and
almost level
veld; on the south bank the veld was more undulating, and equally open.
The whole place was covered with ant-hills.
My orders were to hold Duffer’s Drift at all costs. I should probably
be visited by some column within three or four days time. I might
possibly be attacked before that time, but this was very unlikely, as
no enemy were known to be within a hundred miles. The enemy had guns.
It all seemed plain enough, except that the true inwardness of the last
piece of information did not strike me at the time. Though in company
with fifty "good men and true," it certainly made me feel somewhat
lonely and marooned to be left out there comparatively alone on the
boundless
veld; but the chance of an attack filled me, and I am quite sure, my
men, with martial
ardour. At last here was the chance I had so often longed for. This was
my first "show," my first independent command, and I was determined to
carry out my order to the bitter end. I was young and inexperienced, it
is true, but I had passed all my examinations with fair success; my men
were a good willing lot, with the traditions of a glorious regiment to
uphold, and would, I knew, do all I should require of them. We were
also well supplied with ammunition and rations and had a number of
picks, shovels, and sandbags, etc., which I confess had been rather
forced on me.
As I turned towards my gallant little detachment, visions of a bloody
and desperate fight crossed my mind a fight to the last cartridge, and
then an appeal to cold steel, with ultimate victory and-but a discreet
cough at my elbow brought me back to realities, and warned me that my
Colour-sergeant was waiting for orders.
After a moment’s consideration, I decided to pitch my small camp on a
spot just south of the drift, because it was slightly rising ground,
which I knew should be chosen for a camp whenever possible. It was,
moreover, quite close to the drift, which was also in its
favour, for, as every one knows, if you are told off to guard anything,
you mount a guard quite close to it, and place a sentry, if possible,
standing on top of it. The place I picked out also had the river
circling round three sides of it in a regular horse- shoe bend, which
formed a kind of ditch, or, as the book says, "a natural obstacle." I
was indeed lucky to have such an ideal place close at hand; nothing
could have been more suitable.
I came to the conclusion that, as the enemy were not within a hundred
miles, there would be no need to place the camp in a state of defence
till the following day. Besides, the men were tired after their long
trek, and it would be quite as much as they could do comfortably to
arrange nice and shipshape all the stores and tools, which had been
dumped down anyhow in a heap, pitch the camp, and get their teas before
dark. Between you and me, I was really relieved to be able to put off
my defensive measures till the morrow, because I was a wee bit puzzled
as to what to do. In fact, the more I thought, the more puzzled I grew.
The only "measures of
defence" I could recall for the moment were, how to tie "a thumb or
overhand knot," and how long it takes to cut down an apple tree of six
inches diameter. Unluckily neither of these useful facts seemed quite
to apply. Now, if they had given me a job like fighting the battle of
Waterloo, or Sedan, or Bull Run, I knew all about that, as I had
crammed it up and been examined in it too. I also knew how to take up a
position for a division, or even an army corps, but the stupid little
subaltern’s game of the defence of a drift with a small detachment was,
curiously enough, most perplexing. I had never really considered such a
thing. However, in the light of my habitual dealings with army corps,
it would, no doubt, be child’s-play after a little thought.
Having issued my immediate orders accordingly, I decided to explore the
neighbourhood, but was for a moment puzzled as to which direction I
should take; for, having no horse, I could not possibly get all round
before dark. After a little thought, it flashed across my mind that
obviously I should go to the north. The bulk of the enemy being away to
the north, that of course must be the front. I knew naturally that
there must be a front, because in all the schemes I had had to prepare,
or the exams I had undergone, there was always a front, or—"the place
where the enemies come from." How often, also, had I not had trouble in
getting out of a dull sentry which his "front" and what his "beat" was.
The north, then, being my front, the east and west were my flanks,
where there might possibly be enemies, and the south was my rear, where
naturally there were none.
I settled these knotty points to my satisfaction, and off I trudged,
with my field-glasses, and, of course, my Kodak, directing my steps
towards the gleaming white walls of the little Dutch farm, nestling
under the kopje to the north-east. It was quite a snug little farm for
South Africa, and was surrounded by blue gums and fruit trees. About a
quarter of a mile from the farm I was met by the owner, Mr. Andreas
Brink, a tame or surrendered Boer farmer, and his two sons, Piet and
Gert. "Such a nice man too," with a pleasant face and long beard. He
would insist on calling me "Captain," and as any correction might have
confused him, I did not think it worth while to make any, and after all
I wasn’t so very far from my "company." The three of them positively
bristled with dog’s-eared and dirty passes from every Provost Marshal
in South Africa, and these they insisted on showing me. I had not
thought of asking for them, and was much impressed; to have so many
they must be special men. They escorted me to the farm, where the good
wife and several daughters met us, and gave me a drink of milk, which
was most acceptable after my long and dusty trek. The whole family
appeared either to speak or to understand English, and we had a very
friendly chat, during the course of which I gathered that there were no
Boer commandos anywhere within miles, that the whole family cordially
hoped that there never would be again, and that Brink was really a most
loyal Briton, and had been much against the war, but had been forced to
go on a commando with his two sons. Their loyalty was evident, because
there was an oleograph of the Queen on the wall, and one of the
numerous flappers was playing our National Anthem on the harmonium as I
entered. The farmer and the boys took a great interest in all my
personal gear, especially a brand-new pair of the latest-pattern
field-glasses, which they tried with much delight, and many
exclamations of
"Allermachtig." They evidently appreciated them extremely, but could
not imagine any use for my Kodak in war-time, even after I had taken a
family group. Funny, simple fellows! They asked and got permission from
me to sell milk, eggs and butter in the camp, and I strolled on my way,
congratulating myself on the good turn I was thus able to do myself and
detachment, none of whom had even smelt such luxuries for weeks.
After an uneventful round, I directed my steps back towards the thin
blue threads of smoke, rising vertically in the still air, which alone
showed the position of my little post, and as I walked the peacefulness
of the whole scene impressed me. The landscape lay bathed in the warm
light of the setting sun, whose parting rays tinged most strongly the
various heights within view, and the hush of approaching evening was
only broken by the distant lowing of oxen, and by the indistinct and
cheerful camp noises, which gradually grew louder as I approached. I
strolled along in quite a pleasant frame of mind, meditating over the
rather curious names which Mr. Brink had given me for the surrounding
features of the landscape. The kopje above his farm was called
Incidentamba, the flat-topped mountain some two miles to the north was
called Regret Table Mountain, and the gently rising hill close to the
drift on the south of the river they called Waschout Hill. Everything
was going on well, and the men were at their teas when I got back. The
nice Dutchman with his apostolic face and the lanky Piet and Gert were
already there, surrounded by a swarm of men, to whom they were selling
their wares at exorbitant rates. The three of them strolled about the
camp, showing great interest in everything, asking most intelligent
questions about the British forces and the general position of affairs
and seemed really relieved to have a strong British post near. They did
not even take offence when some of the rougher man called them
"blarsted Dutchmen," and refused to converse with them, or buy their
"skoff." About dusk they left, with many promises to return with a
fresh supply on the morrow. After writing out my orders for next day,
one of which was for digging some trenches round the camp, an operation
which I knew my men, as becomes good British soldiers, disliked very
much, and regarded as fatigues. I saw the two guards mounted, one at
the drift, and the other some little way down the river, each
furnishing one sentry on the river bank.
When all had turned in, and the camp was quite silent, it was almost
comforting to hear the half-hourly cry of the sentries. "Number one-all
is well!; Number two-all is well!" By this sound I was able to locate
them, and knew they were at their proper posts. On going round sentries
about midnight, I was pleased to find that they were both alert, and
that, as it was a cold night, each guard had built a bonfire
silhouetted in the cheerful blaze of which stood the sentry-a clear-cut
monument to all around that here was a British sentry fully on the
qui-vive. After impressing them with their orders, the extent of their
"beat," and the direction of their "front," etc., I turned in. The
fires they had built, besides being a comfort to themselves, were also
useful to me, because twice during the night when I looked out I could,
without leaving my tent, plainly see them at their posts. I finally
fell asleep, and dreamt of being decorated with a crossbelt made of
V.C.s and
D.S.O.s, and of wearing red tabs all down my back.
I was suddenly awoken, about the grey of dawn, by a hoarse cry, "Halt!
who goes. . . ." cut short by the unmistakable
"plipplop" of a Mauser rifle. Before I was off my valise, the reports
of Mausers rang round the camp from every side, these, mingled with the
smack of the bullets as they hit the ground and stripped, the
"zipzip" of the leaden hail through the tents, and the curses and
groans of men who were hit as they lay or stumbled about trying to get
out, made a hellish din. There was some wild shooting in return from my
men, but it was all over in a moment, and as I managed to wriggle out
of my tent the whole place was swarming with bearded men, shooting into
the heaving canvas. At that moment I must have been clubbed on the head
for I knew no more until I found myself seated on an empty case having
my head, which was dripping with blood, tied up by one of my men. Our
losses were 10 men killed, including both sentries, and 21 wounded; the
Boers’ had one killed and two wounded.
Later on, as, at the order of the not ill-natured but very frowzy Boer
commandant, I was gloomily taking off the saucy warm spotted waistcoat
knitted for me by my sister, I noticed our friends of the previous
evening in very animated and friendly conversation with the burghers,
and
"Pappa" was, curiously enough, carrying a rifle and bandolier and my
new field-glasses. He was laughing and pointing towards something lying
on the ground, through which he finally put his foot. This, to my
horror, I recognized as my unhappy camera. Here, I suppose, my mind
must have slightly wandered, for I found myself repeating some Latin
lines, once my favourite imposition, but forgotten since my
school-days---"Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. . . . " when suddenly the
voice of the field cornet broke into my musing with "Your breeches too,
captain." Trekking all that day on foot,
sockless, and in the boots of another, I had much to think of besides
my throbbing head. The sight of the long Boer convoy with guns, which
had succeeded so easily in crossing the drift I was to have held, was a
continual reminder of my failure and of my responsibility for the
dreadful losses to my poor detachment. I gradually gathered from the
Boers what I had already partly guessed, namely, that they had been
fetched and guided all round our camp by friend Brink, had surrounded
it in the dark, crawling about in the bush on the river bank, and had
carefully marked down our two poor sentries. These they had at once
shot on the alarm being given, and had then rushed the camp from the
dense cover on three sides. Towards evening my head got worse, and its
rhythmic throbbing seemed gradually to take a meaning, and hammered out
the following lessons, the result of much pondering on my failure:
1. Do not put off taking your measures of defence till the morrow, as
these are more important than the comfort of your men or the shipshape
arrangement of your camp. Choose the position of your camp mainly with
reference to your
defence.
2. Do not in war-time show stray men of the enemy's breed all over your
camp, be they never so kind and full of butter, and do not be
hypnotised, by numerous "passes," at once to confide in them.
3. Do not let your sentries advertise their position to the whole world, including the enemy, by standing
in the full glare of a fire, and making much noise every half-hour.
4. Do not, if avoidable, be in tents when bullets are ripping through
them; at such times a hole in the ground is worth many tents.
After these lessons had been dinned into my soul millions and millions
of times, so that I could never forget them, a strange thing came to
pass-there was a kaleidoscopic change - I had another dream.
Second Dream
"And what did ye look they should compass?
Warcraft learnt in a breath,
Knowledge unto occasion
at the first far view of Death?" KIPLING.
I suddenly found myself dumped down at Duffer’s Drift with the same
orders as already detailed, and an equal detachment composed of
entirely different men. As before, and on every subsequent occasion, I
had ample stores, ammunition, and tools. My position was precisely
similar to my former one, with this important exception, running
through my brain were four lessons.
As soon as I received my orders, therefore, I began to make out my plan
of operations without wasting any time over the landscape, the setting
sun, or the departing column, which, having off-loaded all our stores,
soon vanished. I was determined to carry out all the lessons I had
learnt as well as I knew how. To prevent any strangers, friendly or
otherwise, from coming into my position and spying out the elaborate
defenses I was going to make, I sent out at once two examining posts of
one NCO and three men each, one to the top of Waschout Hill, and the
other some 1000 meters out on the veld to the north of the drift. Their
orders were to watch the surrounding country, and give the alarm in the
event of the approach of any body of men whatever (Boers were, of
course, improbable, but still just possible), and also to stop any
individuals, friendly or not, from coming anywhere near camp and to
shoot at once on non-compliance with the order to halt. If the
newcomers had any provisions to sell, these were to be sent in with a
list by one of the guard, who would return with the money, but the
strangers were not to be allowed nearer the camp on any account.
Having thus arranged a safeguard against spies, I proceeded to choose a
camping ground. I chose the site already described in my former dream,
and for the same reasons, which still appealed to me. So long as I was
entrenched, it appeared the best place around. We started making our
trenches as soon as I had marked off a nice squarish little enclosure
which would about contain our small camp. Though, of course, the north
was the front, I thought, having a camp, it would be best to have an
all-round defence as a sort of obstacle. The majority of the men were
told off to dig, which they did not relish, a few being detailed to
pitch camp and prepare tea. As the length of trench was rather great
for the available number of diggers, and the soil was hard, we were
only able by dark, by which time the men were quite done up by their
hard day, to make quite a low parapet and shallow trench. Still we were
"entrenched," which was the great thing, and the trench was all round
our camp, so we were well prepared, even should we be attacked during
the night or early next morning, which was quite unlikely.
During this time one or two strangers had approached the guard of the
north from a farm under
Incidentamba. As they had eggs and butter, etc., to sell, these were
brought in as arranged for. The man sent in with the stuff reported
that the elder of the Dutchmen was a most pleasant man, and had sent me
a present of a pat of butter and some eggs, with his compliments, and
would I allow him to come in and speak to me? However, not being such a
fool as to allow him in my defenses, I went out instead, in case he had
any information. His only information was that there were no Boers
anywhere near. He was an old man, but though he had a museum of
"passes," I was not to be chloroformed by them into confidence. As he
seemed friendly, and possibly loyal, I walked part of the way back to
his farm with him, in order to look around. At dark the two examining
posts came in, and two guards were mounted close by the object I was to
watch, namely, the drift, at the same places as in my previous dream.
This time, however, there was no half-hourly shouting, nor were there
any fires, and the sentries had orders not to challenge but to shoot
any person they might see outside camp at once. They were placed
standing down the river bank, just high enough to see over the top, and
were thus not unnecessarily exposed. Teas had been eaten, and all fires
put out at dusk, and after dark all turned in, but in the trenches
instead of in tents. After going round sentries to see everything snug
for the night, I lay down myself with a sense of having done my duty,
and neglected no possible precaution for our safety.
Just before dawn much the same happened as already described in my
first dream, except that the ball was started by a shot without
challenge from one of our sentries at something moving amoung the bush,
which resulted in close-range fire opening up to us from all sides.
This time we were not rushed, but a perfect hail of bullets whistled in
from every direction-from in front of each trench, and over and through
our parapet. It was sufficient to put a hand or head up to have a dozen
bullets through and all round it, and the strange part was, we saw no
one. As the detachment wag plaintively remarked, we could have seen
lots of Boers, "if it wasn’t for the bushes in between."
After vainly trying until bright daylight to see the enemy in order to
do some damage in return, so many men were hit, and the position seemed
so utterly hopeless, that I had to hoist the white flag. We had by then
24 men killed and six wounded. As soon as the white flag went up the
Boers ceased firing at once, and stood up; every bush and ant-hill up
to 100 meters range seemed to have hid a Boer behind it. This close
range explained the marvelous accuracy of their shooting, and the great
proportion of our killed (who were nearly all shot through the head) to
our wounded.
As we were collecting ourselves preparatory to marching off there were
one or two things which struck me; one was that the Dutchman who had
presented me with eggs and butter was in earnest confabulation with the
Boer commandant, who was calling him
"Oom" most affectionately. I also noticed that all male Kaffirs from
the neighbouring kraal had been fetched and impressed to assist in
getting the Boer guns and wagons across the drift and to load up our
captured gear, and generally do odd and dirty jobs. These same Kaffirs
did their work with amazing alacrity, and looked as if they enjoyed it;
there was no "back chat" when an order was given—usually by friend
"Oom."
Again, as I trudged with blistered feet that livelong day, did I think
over my failure. It seemed so strange, I had done all I knew, and yet,
here we were, ignominiously captured, 24 of us killed, and the Boers
over the drift. "Ah, BF, my boy," I thought, "there must be a few more
lessons to be learnt besides those you already know." In order to find
out what these were, I pondered deeply over the details of the fight.
The Boers must have known of our position, but how had they managed to
get close up all round within snapshooting range without being
discovered? What a tremendous advantage they had gained in shooting
from among the bushes on the bank, where they could not be seen, over
us who had to show up over a parapet every time we looked for an enemy,
and show up, moreover, just in the very place where every Boer expected
us to. There seemed to be some fault in the position. How the bullets
seemed sometimes to come through the parapet, and how those that passed
over one side hit the men defending the other side in the back. How, on
the whole, that "natural obstacle," the river-bed, seemed to be more of
a disadvantage than a protection.
Eventually the following lessons framed themselves in my head—some of
them quite new, some of them supplementing those four I had already
learnt:
5. With modern rifles, to guard a drift or locality does not
necessitate sitting on top of it (as if it could be picked up and
carried away), unless the locality is suitable to hold for other and
defensive reasons. It may even be much better to take up your defensive
position some way from the spot, and so away from concealed ground,
which enables the enemy to crawl up to very close range, concealed and
unperceived, and to fire from cover which hides them even when
shooting. It would be better, if possible, to have the enemy in the
open, or to have what is called a clear "field of fire."
A non-bullet-proof parapet or shelter which is visible serves merely to
attract bullets instead of keeping them out—the proof of thickness can
be easily and practically tested.
When fired at by an enemy at close range from nearly all round, a low
parapet and shallow trench are not of much use, as what bullets do not
hit the defenders on one side hit those on another.
6. It is not enough to keep strange men of the enemy’s breed away from
your actual defenses, letting them go free to warn their friends of
your existence and whereabouts—even though they should not be under
temptation to impart any knowledge they may have obtained. "Another
way," as the cookery book says, more economical in lives, would be as
follows: Gather and warmly greet a sufficiency of strangers. Stuff well
with chestnuts as to the large force about to join you in a few hours;
garnish with corroborative detail, and season according to taste with
whiskey or tobacco. This will very likely be sufficient for the nearest
commando. Probable cost—some heavy and glib lying, but no lives will be
expended.
7. It is not business to allow lazy men (even though they be brothers
and neutrals) to sit and pick their teeth outside their kraals whilst
tired soldiers are breaking their hearts trying to do heavy labour in
short time. It is more the duty of a soldier to teach the lazy neutral
the dignity of
labour, and by keeping him under guard to prevent his going away to
talk about it.
By the time the above lessons had been well burnt into my brain, beyond
all chance of forgetfulness, a strange thing happened. I had a fresh
dream.
Third Dream
"So when we take tea with a few guns, o’course you will
know what do do—hoo! hoo!" KIPLING.
I was at Duffer’s Drift on a similar sunny afternoon and under
precisely similar conditions, except that I now had seven lessons
running through my mind.
I at once sent out two patrols, each of one NCO and three men, one to
the north and one to the south. They were to visit all neighbouring
farms and kraals and bring in all able-bodied Dutch men and boys and
male Kaffirs, by persuasion if possible, but by force if necessary.
This would prevent the news of our arrival being carried round to any
adjacent commandos, and would also assist to solve the labour question.
A small guard was mounted on the top of Waschout Hill as a look-out.
I decided that as the drift could not get up and run away, it was not
necessary to take up my post or position quite close to it. especially
as such a position would be under close rifle fire from the river bank,
to which the approaches were quite concealed, and which gave excellent
cover. The very worst place for such a position seemed to be anywhere
within the horseshoe bend of the river, as this would allow an enemy
practically to surround it. My choice therefore fell on a spot to which
the ground gently rose from the river bank, some 700 to 800 meters
south of the drift. Here I arranged to dig a trench roughly facing the
front (north), which thus would have about 800 meters clear ground on
its front. We started to make a trench about 50 meters long for my 50
men, according to the usual rule.
Some little time after beginning, the patrols came in, having collected
three Dutchmen and two boys, and about thirteen Kaffirs. The former,
the leader of whom seemed a man of education and some importance, were
at first inclined to protest when they were given tools to dig trenches
for themselves, showed bundles of "passes," and talked very big about
complaining to the general, and even as to a question in the "House"
about our brutality. This momentarily staggered me, as I could not help
wondering what might happen to poor BF if the member for Upper Tooting
should raise the point; but Westminster was far away, and I hardened my
heart. Finally they had the humour to see the force of the argument,
that it was, after all, necessary for their own health, should the post
be attacked, as they would otherwise be out in the open
veld.
The Kaffirs served as a welcome relief to my men as they got tired.
They also dug a separate hole for themselves on one side of and behind
our trench, in a small ravine.
By evening we had quite a decent trench dug—the parapet was two feet
six inches thick at the top, and was quite bulletproof, as I tested it.
Our trench was not all in one straight line, but in two portions,
broken back at a slight angle, so as to get a more divergent fire
(rather cunning of me), though each half was of course as straight as I
could get it.
It was astonishing what difficulty I had to get the men to dig in a
nice straight line. I was particular as to this point, because I once
heard a certain captain severely "told off" at maneuvers by a very
senior officer for having his trenches "out of dressing." No one could
tell whether some "brass hat" might not come round and inspect us next
day, so it was as well to be prepared for anything.
At dusk the guard on Waschout Hill, for whom a trench had also been
dug, was relieved and increased to six men, and after teas and giving
out the orders for the next day, we all "turned in" in our trenches.
The tents were not pitched, as we were not going to occupy them, and it
was no good merely showing up our position. A guard was mounted over
our prisoners, or rather "guests," and furnished one sentry to watch
over them.
Before falling asleep I ran over my seven lessons, and it seemed to me
I had left nothing undone which could possibly help towards success. We
were entrenched, had a good bulletproof
defence, all our rations and ammunition close at hand in the trenches,
and water-bottles filled. It was with a contented feeling of having
done everything right and of being quite "the little white-haired boy,"
that I gradually dozed off.
Next morning dawned brightly and uneventfully, and we had about an
hour’s work improving details of our trenches before breakfasts were
ready. Just as breakfast was over, the sentry on Waschout Hill reported
a cloud of dust away to the north, by Regret Table Mountain. This was
caused by a large party of mounted men with wheeled transport of some
sort. They were most probably the enemy, and seemed to be trekking in
all innocence of our presence for the drift.
What a "scoop" I thought, if they come on quite unsuspecting, and cross
the drift in a lump without discerning our position. I shall lie low,
let the advanced party go past without a shot, and wait until the main
body gets over the side within close range, and then open magazine fire
into the thick of them. Yes, it will be just when they reach that
broken ant- hill about 400 meters away that I shall give the word
"Fire!"
However, it was not to be. After a short time the enemy halted,
apparently for consideration. The advanced men seemed to have a
consultation, and then gradually approached Incidentamba farm with much
caution. Two or three women ran out and waved, whereupon these men
galloped up to the farm at once. What passed, of course, we could not
tell, but evidently the women gave information as to our arrival and
position, because the effect was electrical. The advanced Boers split
up into two main parties, one riding towards the river a long way to
the east, and another going similarly to the west. One man galloped
back with the information obtained to the main body, which became all
bustle, and started off with their wagons behind
Incidentamba, when they were lost to sight. Of course, they were all
well out of range, and as we were quite ready, the only thing to do was
to wait till they came out in the open within range, and then to shoot
them down.
The minutes seemed to crawl—five, then ten minutes passed with no
further sign of the enemy. Suddenly, "Beg pardon, sir; I think I see
something on top of that kopje on the fur side yonder." One of the men
drew my attention to a few specks which looked like wagons moving about
on the flattish shoulder of
Incidentamba. Whilst I was focusing my glasses there was a "boom" from
the hill, followed by a sharp report and a puff of smoke up in the air
quite close by, then the sound as of heavy rain pattering down some 200
feet in front of the trench, each drop raising its own little cloud of
dust. This, of course, called forth the
time-honoured remarks of "What ho, she bumps!" and "Now we shan’t be
long," which proved only too true. I was aghast, I had quite forgotten
the possibility of guns being used against me, though, had I remembered
their existence, I do not know, with my then knowledge, what difference
it would have made to my defensive measures. As there was some little
uneasiness among my men, I, quite cheerful in the security of our nice
trench with the thick bulletproof parapet, at once shouted out, "It’s
all right, men; keep under cover, and they can’t touch us." A moment
later there was a second boom, the shell whistled over our heads, and
the hillside some way behind the trench was spattered with bullets.
By this time we were crouching as close as possible to the parapet,
which, though it had seemed only quite a short time before so complete,
now suddenly felt most woefully inadequate, with those beastly shells
dropping their bullets down from the sky. Another boom. This time the
shell burst well, and the whole ground in front of the trench was
covered with bullets, one man being hit. At this moment rifle fire
began on Waschout Hill, but no bullets came our way. Almost immediately
another shot followed which showered bullets all over us; a few more
men were hit, whose groans were unpleasant to listen to. Tools were
seized, and men began frantically to try and dig themselves deeper into
the hard earth, as our trench seemed to give no more protection from
the dropping bullets than a saucer would from a storm of rain—but it
was too late. We could not sink into the earth fast enough. The Boers
had got the range of the trench to a nicety, and the shells burst over
us now with a horrible methodic precision. Several men were hit, and
there was no reason why the enemy should cease to rain shrapnel over us
until we were all killed. As we were absolutely powerless to do
anything, I put up the white flag. All I could do was to thank
Providence that the enemy had no quick-firing field guns or, though "we
had not been long," we should have been blotted out before we could
have hoisted it.
As soon as the gunfire ceased, I was greatly surprised to find that no
party of Boers came down from their artillery position on Incidentamba
to take our surrender, but within three minutes some fifty Boers
galloped up from the river bank on the east and the west, and a few
more came up from the south round Waschout Hill. The guard on Waschout
Hill, which had done a certain amount of damage to the enemy, had two
men wounded by rifle fire. Not a single shell had come near them,
though they were close to the Kaffir huts, which were plain enough.
What an anti-climax the reality had been from the pleasurable
anticipations of the early morn, when I had first sighted the Boers.
Of course, the women on the farm had betrayed us, but it was difficult
to make out why the Boers had at first halted and begun to be
suspicious before they had seen the women at the farm. What could they
have discovered? I failed entirely to solve this mystery.
During the day’s trek the following lessons slowly evolved themselves,
and were stored in my mind in addition to those already learnt:
8. When collecting the friendly stranger and his sons in order to
prevent their taking information to the enemy of your existence and
whereabouts, if you are wishful for a "surprise packet," do not forget
also to gather his wife and his daughter, his manservant and his
maidservant (who also have tongues), and his ox and his ass (which may
possibly serve the enemy). Of course, if they are very numerous or very
far off, this is impossible; only do not then hope to surprise the
enemy.
9. Do not forget that, if guns are going to be used against you, a
shallow trench with a low parapet some way from it is worse than
useless, even though the parapet be bulletproof ten times over. The
trench gives the gunners an object to lay on, and gives no protection
from shrapnel. Against well-aimed longrange artillery fire it would be
better to scatter the defenders in the open hidden in grass and bushes,
or behind stones or ant hills, than to keep them huddled in such a
trench. With your men scattered around, you can safely let the enemy
fill your trench to the brim with shrapnel bullets.
10. Though to stop a shrapnel bullet much less actual thickness of
earth is necessary than to stop a rifle bullet, yet this earth must be
in the right place. For protection you must be able to get right close
under cover. As narrow a trench as possible, with the sides and inside
of the parapet as steep as they will stand, will give you the best
chance. To hollow out the bottom of the trench sides to give extra room
will be even better, because the open top of the trench can be kept the
less wide. The more like a mere slit the open top of the trench is, the
fewer the shrapnel bullets will get in.
While chewing over these lessons learnt from bitter experience, I had yet another dream.
Fourth Dream
"O was some power the gittie gie us, To see oursels as
others see us!" BURNS.
Again did I find myself facing the same problem, this time with ten
lessons to guide me. I started off by sending our patrols as described
in my last dream, but their orders were slightly different. All human
beings were to be brought into our post, and any animals which could be
of use to the enemy were to be shot, as we had no place for them.
For my defensive post I chose the position already described in my last
dream, which seemed very suitable, for the reasons already given. We
consequently dug a trench similar in plan to that already described,
but, as I feared the possibility of guns being used against us, it was
of a very different section. In plan it faced north generally, and was
slightly broken forward to the front, each half being quite straight.
In section it was about three feet six inches deep, with a parapet
about twelve inches high in front of it; we made the trench as narrow
as possible at the top compatible with free movement. Each man hollowed
out the under part of the trench to suit himself, and made his own
portion of the parapet to suit his height. The parapet was about two
feet six inches thick at the top and quite steep inside, being built up
of pieces of broken ant-hill, which were nearly as hard as stone.
The patrols returned shortly with their bag of a few men, women and
children. The women indulged in much useless abuse, and refused to obey
orders, taking the matter less philosophically than their mankind. Here
was evidently an opportunity of making use of the short training I had
once had as an
A.D.C. I tried it. I treated the ladies with tons of "tact" in my
suavest manner, and repeated the only Dutch words of comfort I knew
"Wacht een beetje"—"AI zal rech kom"—but to no purpose. They had not
been brought up to appreciate tact; in fact, they were not taking any.
I turned regretfully round to the
Colours-sergeant, winked solemnly and officially, and seeing an
answering but respectful quiver in his left eyelid, said—
"Colour-sergeant."
"Sir?"
"Which do you think is the best way of setting alight to a farm?"
"Well, sir, some prefer the large bedstead and straw, but I think the
‘armonium and a little kerosene in one corner is as neat as anything."
There was no need for more. The ladies quite understood this sort of tact; the trouble was over.
The Dutchmen and Kaffirs were at once started digging shelters for
themselves and the women and children. The latter were placed together,
and were put into a small ravine not far from the trench, as it was
necessary to place them in a really deep trench, firstly to keep them
safe, and secondly to prevent their waving or signaling to the enemy.
The existence of this ravine, therefore, saved much digging, as it only
required some hollowing out at the bottom and a little excavation to
suit admirably.
All dug with a will, and by night the shelters for the women and
children, men prisoners, and the firing trench, were nearly done. All
arrangements for the guards and sentries were the same as those
described in the last dream, and after seeing everything was all
correct and the ladies provided with tents to crawl under (they had
their own blankets), I went to sleep with a feeling of well-earned
security.
At daybreak next morning, as there were no signs of any enemy, we
continued to improve our trench, altering the depth and alignment where
necessary, each man suiting the size of the trench to his own legs. In
the end the trench looked quite neat—"almost as nice as mother makes
it," with the fresh red earth contrasting with the yellow of the
veld. As one of my reservists remarked, it only wanted an edging of
oyster shells or gingerbeer bottles to be like his little broccoli
patch at home. Upon these important details and breakfast a good two
hours had been spent, when a force was reported to the north in the
same position as described in the previous dream. It advanced in the
same manner, except, of course, the advanced men were met by no one at
the farm. When I saw this, I could not help patting myself on the back
and smiling at the Dutch ladies in the pit, who only scowled at me in
return, and (whisper) spat!
The advanced party of the enemy came on, scouting carefully and
stalking the farm as they came. As they appeared quite unwarned, I was
wondering if I should be able to surprise them, all innocent of our
presence, with a close-range volley, and then magazine fire into their
midst, when suddenly one man stopped and the others gathered round him.
This was when they were some 1800 meters away, about on a level with
the end of
Incidentamba. They had evidently seen something and sniffed danger, for
there was a short palaver and much pointing. A messenger then galloped
back to the main body, which turned off behind Incidentamba with its
wagons, etc. A small number, including a man on a white horse, rode off
in a vague way to the west. The object of this move I could not quite
see. They appeared to have a vehicle with them of some sort. The
advanced party split up as already described. As all were still at long
range, we could only wait.
Very shortly "boom" went a gun from the top of Incidentamba, and a
shrapnel shell burst not far from us. A second and third followed,
after which they soon picked up our range exactly, and the shell began
to burst all about us; however, we were quite snug and happy in our
nice deep trench, where we contentedly crouched. The waste of good and
valuable shrapnel shell by the enemy was the cause of much amusement to
the men, who were in great spirits, and, as one of them remarked, were
"as cosy as cockroaches in a crack." At the expenditure of many shells
only two men were hit in the legs.
After a time the guns ceased fire, and we at once manned the parapet
and stood up to repel an attack, but we could see no Boers though the
air began at once to whistle and hum with bullets. Nearly all these
seemed to come from the riverbank in front, to the north and northeast,
and kept the parapet one continual spurt of dust as they smacked into
it. All we could do was to fire by sound at various likely bushes on
the riverbank, and this we did with the greatest possible diligence,
but no visible results.
In about a quarter of an hour, we had had five men shot through the
head, the most exposed part. The mere raising of a head to fire seemed
to be absolutely fatal, as it had on a former occasion when we were
attempting to fire at close range over a parapet against the enemy
concealed. I saw two poor fellows trying to build up a pitiful little
kind of house of cards with stones and pieces of ant-hill through which
to fire. This was as conspicuous as a chimney-pot on top of the
parapet, and was at once shot to powder before they had even used it,
but not before it had suggested to me the remedy for this state of
affairs. Of course, we wanted in such a case "head cover" and
"loopholes." As usual, I was wise after the event, for we had no chance
of making them then, even had we not been otherwise busy. Suddenly the
noise of firing became much more intense, but with the smack of the
bullets striking the earth all round quite close it was not easy to
tell from which direction this fresh firing came. At the same time the
men seemed to be dropping much oftener, and I was impressing them with
the necessity of keeping up a brisker fire to the front, when I noticed
a bullet hit our side of the parapet.
It then became clear, the enemy must evidently have got into the donga
behind us (to which I had paid no attention, as it was to the rear),
and were shooting us in the back as we stood up to our parapet.
This, I thought, must be what is called being "taken in reverse," and it was.
By the time I had gathered what was happening, about a dozen more men
had been bowled over. I then ordered the whole lot to take cover in the
trench, and only to pop up to take a shot to the front or rear. But no
more could be done by us towards the rear than to the front. The
conditions were the same-no Boers to be seen. At this moment two of the
guard from Waschout Hill started to run in to our trench, and a
terrific fusillade was opened on to them, the bullets kicking up the
dust all round them as they ran. One poor fellow was dropped, but the
other managed to reach our trench and fall into it. He too was badly
hit, but just had the strength to gasp out that except himself and the
man who started with him, all the guard on Waschout Hill had been
killed or wounded and that the Boers were gradually working their way
up to the top. This was indeed cheering.
So hot was the fire now that no one could raise his head above ground
without being shot, and by crouching down altogether and not attempting
to aim, but merely firing our rifles over the edge of the trench, we
remained for a short time without casualties. This respite, however,
was short, for the men in the right half of the trench began to drop
unaccountably whilst they were sitting well under cover, and not
exposing themselves at all. I gradually discovered the cause of this.
Some snipers must have reached the top of Waschout Hill, and were
shooting straight down our right half trench. As the bullets snicked in
thicker and thicker, it was plain the number of snipers was being
increased.
This, I thought, must be being "enfiladed from a flank." It was so.
Without any order, we had all instinctively vacated the right half of
our trench and crowded into the left half, which by great good luck
could not be enfiladed from any point on the south side of the river,
nor indeed by rifle-fire from anywhere, as, owing to the ground, its
prolongation on the right was up above ground for some 3000 meters away
on the veld on the north bank.
Though we were huddled together quite helpless like rats in a trap,
still it was in a small degree comforting to think that, short of
charging, the enemy could do nothing. For that we fixed bayonets and
grimly waited. If they did make an assault, we had bayonets, and they
had not, and we could sell our lives very dearly in a rough-and-tumble.
Alas! I was again deceived. There was to be no chance of close quarters
and cold steel, for suddenly we heard, far away out on the veld to the
north, a sound as of someone beating a tin tray, and a covey of little
shells whistled into the ground close by the trench; two of these burst
on touching the ground. Right out of rifle-range, away on the open veld
on the north, I saw a party of Boers, with a white horse and a vehicle.
Then I knew. But how had they managed to hit off so well the right spot
to go to enfilade our trench before they even knew where we were?
Pom-pom-pom-pom-pom again, and the little steel devils ploughed their
way into the middle of us in our shell-trap, mangling seven men. I at
once diagnosed the position with great professional acumen; we were now
enfiladed from both flanks, but the knowledge was acquired too late to
help us, for-
"We lay bare as the paunch
of the purser’s sow,
To the hail of the Nordenfeldt. "
This was the last straw; there was nothing left but surrender or entire annihilation at long range. I surrendered.
Boers, as usual, sprang up from all round. We had fought for three
hours, and had 25 killed and 17 wounded. Of these, seven only had been
hit by the shrapnel and rifle-fire from the front. All the rest had
been killed or hit from the flanks, where there should be few enemies,
or the rear, where there should be none! This fact convinced me that my
preconceived notions as to the front, and its danger relative to the
other points of the compass, needed considerable modification. All my
cherished ideas were being ruthlessly swept away, and I was plunged
into a sea of doubt, groping for something certain or fixed to lay hold
of. Could Longfellow, when he wrote that immortal line, "Things are not
what they seem," ever have been in my position?
The survivors were naturally a little disheartened at their total
discomfiture, when all had started so well with them in their "crack."
This expressed itself in different ways. As one man said to a corporal,
who was plugging a hole in his ear with a bit of rag—
"Something sickening, I call it, this enfilading racket; you never know
which way it will take
yer. I’m fairly fed up." To which the gloomy reply, "Enfiladed? Of
course we’ve been enfiladed. This ’ere trench should have been wiggled
about a bit, and then there would not have been quite so much of it.
Yes, wiggled about—that’s what it should have been. " To which chipped
in a third, "Yes, and something to keep the blighters from shooting us
in the back wouldn’t
`ave done us much ‘arm, anyway."
There were evidently more things in earth than I had hitherto dreamt of in my philosophy!
As we trekked away to the north under a detached guard of Boers, many
little points such as the above sank into my soul, but I could not for
some time solve the mystery of why we had not succeeded in surprising
the enemy. There were no men, women, children or Kaffirs who, knowing
of our arrival, could have warned them. How did they spot our presence
so soon, as they evidently must have done when they stopped and
consulted in the morning? It was not until passing
Incidentamba, as I casually happened to look round and survey the scene
of the fight from the enemy’s point of view, that I discovered the
simple answer to the riddle. There on the smooth yellow slope of the
veld just south of the drift was a brownish-red streak, as conspicuous
as the Long Man of Wilmington on the dear old Sussex downs, which
positively shrieked aloud, "Hi! Hi! Hi!--this way for the British
defence." I then grimly smiled to think of myself sitting like a "slick
Alick" in that poster of a trench and expecting to surprise anybody!
Besides having been enfiladed and also taken in reverse, we had again
found ourselves at a disadvantage as compared with the concealed enemy
shooting at close range, from having to show up at a fixed place In
order to fire.
Eventually I collected the following lessons-
11. For a small isolated post and an active enemy, there are no flanks, no rear, or, to put it otherwise, it is front all round.
12. Beware of being taken in reverse; take care, when placing and
making your
defences, that when you are engaged in shooting the enemy to the front
of your trench, his pal cannot sneak up and shoot you in the back.
13. Beware of being enfiladed. It is nasty from one flank - far worse from both flanks.
Remember, also, that though you may arrange matters so that you cannot
be enfiladed by rifle fire, yet you may be open to it from long range,
by means of gun or pompom fire. There are few straight trenches that
cannot be enfiladed from somewhere, if the enemy can only get there.
You can sometimes avoid being enfiladed by so placing your trench that
no one can get into prolongation of it to fire down it, or you can
"wiggle" it about in many ways, so that it is not straight, or make
"traverses" across it, or dig separate trenches for every two or three
men.
14. Do not have your trench near rising ground over which you cannot see, and which you cannot hold.
15. Do not huddle all your men together in a small trench like sheep in a pen. Give them air.
16. As once before—cover from sight is of often worth more than cover from bullets.
For close shooting from a non-concealed trench, head cover with
loopholes is an advantage. This should be bulletproof and not be
conspicuously on the top of the parapet, so as to draw fire, or it will
be far more dangerous than having none.
17. To surprise the enemy is a great advantage.
18. If you wish to obtain this advantage, conceal your position. Though
for promotion it may be sound to advertise your position, for defence
it is not.
19. To test the concealment or otherwise of your position, look at it from the enemy’s point of view.
Fifth Dream
"A trifling sum of misery
New added to the foot of thy account. " DRYDEN.
"Jack Frost looked forth one still clear night,
And he said, `Now I shall be out ot sight;
So over the valley and over the height
In silence !’ll take my way’." GOULD.
Again I faced the same task with a fresh mind and fresh hopes, all that remained with me of my former attempts being 19 lessons.
Having detailed the two patrols and the guard on Waschout Hill as
already described, I spent some 20 minutes—whilst the stores, etc.,
were being arranged—in walking about to choose a position to hold in
the light of my 19 lessons.
I came to the conclusion that it was not any good being near the top of
a hill and yet not at the top. I would make my post on the top of
Waschout Hill, where I could not be overlooked from any place within
rifle range, and where I should, I believed, have "command." I was not
quite certain what "command" meant, but I knew it was important—it says
so in the book, besides, in all the maneuvers I had attended and
tactical schemes I had seen, the
"defence" always held a position on top of a hill or ridge. My duty was
plain: Waschoiit H ill seemed the only place which did not contravene
any of the 19 lessons I had learnt, and up it I walked. As I stood near
one of the huts, I got an excellent view of the drift and its southern
approach just over the bulge of the hill, and a clear view of the river
further east and west. I thought at first I would demolish the few
grass and matting huts which, with some empty kerosene tins and heaps
of bones and debris, formed the Kaffir kraal; but on consideration I
decided to play cunning, and that this same innocent-looking Kaffir
kraal would materially assist me to hide my
defences. I made out my plan of operations in detail, and we had soon
conveyed all our stores up to the top of the hill, and started work.
Upon the return of the patrols with their prisoners, the Dutchmen and
"boys" were told off to dig for themselves and their females. The
Kaffirs of the kraal we had impressed to assist at once.
My arrangements were as follows: All round the huts on the hilltop and
close to them, we dug some ten short lengths of deep-firing trenches,
curved in plan, and each long enough to hold five men. These trenches
had extremely low parapets, really only serving as rifle rests, some of
the excavated earth being heaped up behind the trenches to the height
of a foot or so, the remainder being dealt with as described later. In
most cases the parapets were provided with grooves to fire through at
ground-level, the parapet on each side being high enough to just
protect the head. As with the background the men’s heads were not
really visible, it was unnecessary to provide proper loopholes, which
would have necessitated also the use of new sandbags, which would be
rather conspicuous and troublesome to conceal. When the men using these
trenches were firing, their heads would be just above the level of the
ground. Once these firing trenches were well under way, the
communication trenches were started. ‘These were to be narrow and deep,
leading from one trench to the next, and also leading from each trench
back to four of the huts, which were to be arranged as follows, to
allow men to fire standing up without being seen. Round the inside of
the walls of these huts part of the excavated earth, of which there was
ample, would be built up with sandbags, pieces of anthill, stones,
etc., to a height that a man can fire over, about four and a half feet,
and to a thickness of some two and a half feet at the top, and
loopholes, which would be quite invisible, cut through the hut sides
above this parapet. There was room in each hut for three men to fire.
In three of them I meant to place my best shots, to act as snipers, as
they would have a more favourable position than the men in the trenches
below, and the fourth was a conning-tower for myself. All the tents and
stores were stacked inside one of the huts out of sight.
That evening, in spite of the hardness of the work, which caused much
grousing among my men, we had got the firing trenches complete, but the
others were not finished—they were only half the necessary depth. The
earth walls inside the huts were also not quite completed. The Kaffirs
and Dutch had deep pits, as before, in three of the huts. Ammunition
and rations were distributed round the trenches the last thing before
we turned in. I also had all water-bottle and every vessel that would
hold water, such as empty tins, Kaffir gourds, and cooking-pots, filled
and distributed in case of a long and protracted fight. Having issued
orders as to the necessity for the greatest secrecy in not giving away
our position should Boers turn up early next morning, I went to sleep
with confidence. We had, anyhow, a very good position, and though our
communications were not perfect quite, these we could soon improve if
we had any time to ourselves the next morning.
Next morning broke; no enemy in Sight. This was excellent, and before
daylight we were hard at it, finishing the work still undone. By this
time the men had fully entered into the spirit of the thing, and were
quite keen on surprising Brother Boer if possible. While the digging
was proceeding, the
"dixies" were being boiled for the breakfasts inside four grass
screens, some of which we found lying about, so as to show nothing but
some very natural smoke above the kraal. I picked out one or two of my
smartest NCOs, and instructed them to walk down the hill in different
directions to the riverbank and try if they could see the heads of the
men in the firing trenches against the sky. If so, the heaps of earth,
tins, bones, grass, screens, etc., should be rearranged so as to give a
background to every man’s head.
To review the place generally, I and my orderly walked off some
half-mile to the north of the river. As we were going some distance, we
doffed our helmets and wrapped ourselves in two beautiful orange and
magenta striped blankets, borrowed from our Kaffir lady guests, in case
any stray Boer should be lurking around, as he might be interested to
see two "khakis" wandering about on the
veld. It was awkward trying to walk with our rifles hidden under our
blankets, and, moreover, every two minutes we had to look round to see
if the sentry at the camp had signaled any enemy in sight. This was to
be done by raising a pole on the highest hut. The result of our work
was splendid. We saw a Kaffir kraal on a hill, and to us "it was
nothing more." There were the heaps of debris usually round a kraal,
looking most natural, but no heads were visible, and no trenches. There
was only one fault, and that was that a few thoughtless men began, as
we looked, to spread their brown army blankets out in the sun on top of
the huts and on the
veld. To the veriest new chum these square blots, like squares of brown
sticking-plaster all around the kraal, would have betokened something
unusual. To remedy this before it was too late I hastened back.
After we had done our breakfasts, and some three hours after dawn, the
sentry in one of the huts reported a force to the north. We could do
nothing but wait and hope; everything was ready, and every man knew
what to do. No head was to be raised nor a rifle fired until I whistled
from conning-tower; then every man would pop up and empty his magazine
into any of the enemy in range. If we were shelled, the men in the huts
could at once drop into the deep trenches and be safe. Standing in my
conning-tower, from the loopholes of which I could see the drift, I
thought over the possibilities before us. With great luck perhaps the
Boer scouts would pass us on either side, and so allow us to lie low
for the main body. With a view to seeing exactly how far I would let
the latter come before opening fire, and to marking the exact spot when
it would be best to give the word, I got down into the firing trenches
facing the drift and the road south to see how matters appeared from
the level of the rifles. To my intense horror, I found that from these
trenches neither the drift nor the road on the near bank of the river,
until it got a long way south of Waschout Hill, could be seen! The
bulging convexity of the hill hid all this; it must be dead ground! It
was. The very spot where I could best catch the enemy, where they must
pass, was not under my fire! At most, the northern loopholes of the
conning-tower and one other hut alone could give fire on the drift. How
I cursed my stupidity! However, it was no-good. I could not now start
digging fresh trenches further down the hill; it would betray our whole
position at once. I determined to make the best of it, and if we were
not discovered by the scouts, to open fire on the main body when they
were just on the other side of the river bunched up on the bank,
waiting for those in front. Here we could fire on them; but it would be
at a much longer range than I had intended. It was really a stroke of
luck that I had discovered this serious fault, for otherwise we might
have let the bulk of the enemy cross the drift without discovering the
little fact of the dead ground till too late. I reflected, also (though
it was not much consolation), that I had erred in good company, for how
often had I not seen a "brass-hat" ride along on horseback, and from
that height, fix the exact position for trenches in which the rifles
would be little above the ground. These trenches, however, had not been
put to the test of actual use. My error was not going to escape the
same way.
Meanwhile the enemy’s scouts had advanced in much the same way as
detailed before, except that after coming past Incidentamba Farm, they
had not halted suspiciously, but came on in small groups or clumps.
They crossed the river in several places and examined the bushy banks
most carefully, but finding no "khakis" there, they evidently expected
none on the open veld beyond them, for they advanced "anyway" without
care. Several of the clumps joined together, and came on chatting in
one body of some 30 men. Would they examine the kraal, or would they
pass on? My heart pounded. The little hill we were on would, unluckily,
be certain to prove an attraction for them, because it was an excellent
vantage ground whence to scan the horizon to the south, and to signal
back to the main body to the north. The kraal was also a suitable place
to off-saddle for a few minutes while the main body came up to the
drift, and it meant possibly a fire, and therefore a cup of coffee.
They rode up towards it laughing, chatting, and smoking quite
unsuspectingly. We uttered no sound. Our Dutch and Kaffir guests
uttered no sound either, for in their pits was a man with a rifle
alongside them. At last they halted a moment some 250 meters away on
the northeast, where the slope of the hill was more gradual and showed
them all up. A few dismounted, the rest started again straight towards
us. It was not magnificent, but it was war. I whistled.
About ten of them succeeded in galloping off, also some loose horses;
five or six of them on the ground threw up their hands and came into
the post. On the ground there remained a mass of kicking horses and
dead or groaning men. The other parties of scouts to east and west had
at once galloped back to the river where they dismounted under cover
and began to pepper us. Anyway, we had done something.
As soon as our immediate enemy were disposed of, we opened fire on the
main body some 1500 meters away, who had at once halted and opened out.
To these we did a good deal of damage, causing great confusion, which
was comforting to watch. The Boer in command of the main body must have
gathered that the river-bed was clear, for he made a very bold move; he
drove the whole of the wagons, etc., straight on as fast as possible
over the odd 400 meters to the river and down the drift into the
riverbed, where they were safe from our fire. Their losses must have
been heavy over this short distance, for they had to abandon two of
their wagons on the way to the river. This was done under cover of the
fire from a large number of riflemen, who had at once galloped up to
the river-bank, dismounted, and opened fire at us, and from two guns
and a pompom, which had immediately been driven a short distance back
and then outwards to the east and west. It was really the best thing he
could have done, and if he had only known that we could not fire on the
ground to the south of the drift, he might have come straight on with a
rush.
We had so far scored; but now ensued a period of stalemate. We were
being fired at from the riverbank on the north, and from ant-hills,
etc., pretty well all round, and were also under the intermittent
shellfire from the two guns. They made most excellent practice at the
huts, which were soon knocked to bits, but not till they had well
served their turn. Some of the new white sandbags from inside the huts
were scattered out in full view of the enemy, and it was instructive to
see what a splendid target they made, and how often they were hit. They
must have drawn a lot of fire away from the actual trenches. Until the
Boers discovered that they could advance south from the drift without
being under rifle fire from our position, they were held up.
Would they discover it? As they had ridden all round us, by now, well
out of range, they must know all about us and our isolation.
After dark, by which time we had one man killed and two wounded, the
firing died away into a continuous but desultory rifle fire, with an
occasional dropping shell from the guns. Under cover of dark, I tried
to guard the drift and dead ground to the south of it, by making men
stand up and fire at that level; but towards midnight I was forced to
withdraw them into the trenches, after several casualties, as the enemy
then apparently woke up and kept up a furious rifle fire upon us for
over an hour. During this time the guns went through some mysterious
evolutions. At first we got it very hot from the north, where the guns
had been all along. Then suddenly a gun was opened on us away from the
southwest, and we were shelled for a short time from both sides. After
a little while the shelling on the north ceased, and continued from the
southwest only for 20 minutes. After this the guns ceased, and the
rifle fire also gradually died away.
When day dawned not a living soul was to be seen; there were the dead
men, horses, and the deserted wagons. I feared a trap, but gradually
came to the conclusion the Boers had retired. After a little we
discovered the riverbed was deserted as well, but the Boers had not
retired. They had discovered the dead ground, and under the mutually
supporting fire of their guns, which had kept us to our trenches, had
all crossed the drift and trekked south!
True, we were not captured, and had very few losses, and had severely
mauled the enemy, but they had crossed the drift. It must have
evidently been of great importance to them to go on, or they would have
attempted to capture us, as they were about 500 to our 50.
I had failed in my duty.
During the next few hours we buried the dead, tended the wounded, and
took some well-earned rest, and I had ample leisure to consider my
failure and the causes. The lessons I derived from the fight were:
20. Beware of convex hills and dead ground. Especially take care to
have some place where the enemy must come under your fire. Choose the
exact position of your firing trenches, with your eye at the level of
the men who will eventually use them.
21. A hill may not, after all, though it has "command," necessarily be the best place to hold.
22. A conspicuous "bluff" trench may cause the enemy to waste much ammunition, and draw fire away from the actual
defences.
In addition to these lessons, another little matter on my mind was what my colonel would say at my failure.
Lying on my back, looking up at the sky, I was trying to get a few
winks of sleep myself before we started to improve our defences against
a possible further attack, but it was no use, sleep evaded me.
The clear blue vault of heaven was suddenly overcast by clouds which
gradually assumed the frowning face of my colonel. "What? You mean to
say, Mr. Forethought, the Boers have crossed?" But, luckily for me,
before more could be said, the face began slowly to fade away like that
of the Cheshire puss in "Alice in Wonderland," leaving nothing but the
awful frown across the sky. This too finally dissolved, and the whole
scene changed. I had another dream.
Sixth Dream
"Sweet are the uses of adversity. "
Once more was I fated to essay the task of defending Duffer’s Drift.
This time I had 22 lessons under my belt to help me out, and in the
oblivion of my dream I was spared that sense of monotony which by now
may possibly have overtaken you, "gentle reader."
After sending out the patrols, and placing a guard on Waschout Hill, as
already described, and whilst the stores were being collected, I
considered deeply what position I should take up, and walked up to the
top of Waschout Hill to spy out the land. On the top I found a Kaffir
kraal, which I saw would assist me much as concealment should I decide
to hold this hill. This I was much inclined to do, but after a few
minutes’ trial of the shape of the ground, with the help of some men
walking about down below, and my eyes a little above ground level, I
found that its convexity was such that, to see and fire on the drift
and the approach on the south side, I should have to abandon the top of
the hill, and so the friendly concealment of the Kaffir huts, and take
up a position on the open hillside some way down. This was, of course,
quite feasible, especially if I held a position at the top of the hill
as well, near the huts on the east and southeast sides; but, as it
would be impossible to really conceal ourselves on the bare hillside,
it meant giving up all idea of surprising the enemy, which I wished to
do. I must, therefore, find some other place which would lend itself to
easy and good concealment, and also have the drift or its approaches
under close rifle fire. But where to find such a place?
As I stood deep in thought, considering this knotty problem, an idea
gently wormed itself into my mind, which I at once threw out again as
being absurd and out of the question. This idea was to hold the
riverbed and banks on each side of the drift! To give up all idea of
command, and, instead of seeking the nearest high ground, which comes
as natural to the student of tactics as rushing for a tree does to a
squirrel, to take the lowest ground, even though it should be all among
thick cover, instead of being nicely in the open.
No, it was absolutely revolutionary, and against every canon I had ever
read or heard of; it was evidently the freak of a sorely tried and
worried brain. I would have none of it, and I put it firmly from me.
But the more I argued to myself the absurdity of it, the more this idea
obtained possession of me. The more I said it was impossible, the more
allurements were spread before me in its
favour, until each of my conscientious objections was enmeshed and
smothered in a network of specious reasons as to the advantages of the
proposal.
I resisted, I struggled, but finally fell to temptation, dressed up in the plausible guise of reason. I would hold the riverbed.
The advantages I thus hoped to obtain were:
1. Perfect concealment and cover from sight.
2. Trenches and protection against both rifle and gunfire practically ready made.
3. Communications under good cover.
4. The enemy would be out in the open veld except along the riverbank,
where we, being in position first, would still have the advantage.
5. Plentiful water supply at hand.
True, there were a few dead animals near the drift, and the tainted air
seemed to hang heavy over the riverbed, but the carcasses could be
quickly buried under the steep banks, and, after all, one could not
expect every luxury.
As our clear field of fire, which in the north was only bounded by the
range of our rifles, was on the south limited by Waschout Hill, a
suitable position for the enemy to occupy, I decided to hold the top of
it as well as the riverbed. All I could spare for this would be two
NCOs and eight men, who would be able to defend the south side of the
hill, the north being under our fire from the riverbank.
Having detailed this party, I gave my instructions for the work, which
was soon started. In about a couple of hours the patrols returned with
their prisoners, which were dealt with as before.
For the post on Waschout Hill, the scheme was that the trenches should
be concealed much in the same way as described in the last dream, but
great care should be taken that no one in the post should be exposed to
rifle fire from our main position in the river. I did not wish the fire
of the main body to be in any degree hampered by a fear of hitting the
men on Waschout Hill, especially at night. If we knew it was not
possible to hit them, we could shoot freely all over the hill. This
detachment was to have a double lot of
waterbottles, besides every available receptacle collected in the
kraal, filled with water, in anticipation of a prolonged struggle.
The general idea for the main defensive position was to hold both sides
of the river, improving the existing steep banks and ravines into
rifle-pits to contain from one to four men. These could, with very
little work, be made to give cover from all sides. As such a large
amount of the work was already done for us, we were enabled to dig many
more of these pits than the exact number required for our party.
Pathways leading between these were to be cut into the bank, so that we
should be able to shift about from one position to another. Besides the
advantage this would give us in the way of moving about, according as
we wished to fire, it also meant that we should probably be able to
mislead the enemy as to our numbers-which, by such shifting tactics
might, for a time at least, be much exaggerated. The pits for fire to
the north and south were nearly all so placed as to allow the occupants
to fire at ground level over the
veld. They were placed well among the bushes, only just sufficient
scrub being cut away to allow a man to see all round, without exposing
the position of his trench. On each side of the river, just by the
drift, were some "spoil" heaps of earth, excavated from the road ramp.
These stood some five or six feet above the general level, and were as
rough as the banks in outline. These heaps were large enough to allow a
few pits being made on them, which had the extra advantage of height.
In some of the pits, to give head-cover, loopholes of sandbags were
made, though in most cases this was not needed, owing to the
concealment of the bushes. I found it was necessary to examine
personally every loophole, and correct the numerous mistakes made in
their construction. Some had the new clean sandbags exposed to full
view, thus serving as mere whited sepulchres to their occupants, others
were equally conspicuous from their absurd cock-shy appearance, others
were not bulletproof, whilst others again would only allow of shooting
in one direction, or into the ground at a few meters range, or up into
the blue sky. As I corrected all these faults I thought that loopholes
not made under supervision might prove rather a snare.
The result was, in the way of concealment, splendid. From these pits
with our heads at ground level we could see quite clearly out on to the
veld beyond, either from under the thicker part of the bushes or even
through those which were close to our eyes. From the open, on the other
hand, we were quite invisible, even from 300 meters distance, and would
have been more so had we had the whiskers of the "brethren." It was
quite evident to me that these same whiskers were a wise precaution of
nature for this very purpose, and part of her universal scheme of
protective mimicry.
The numerous small dongas and rifts lent themselves readily to flanking
fire, and in many places the vertical banks required no cutting in
order to give ideal protection against even artillery. In others, the
sides of the crooked waterways had to be merely scooped out a little,
or a shelf cut to stand upon.
In one of these deeper ravines two tents, which, being below ground
level, were quite invisible, were pitched for the women and children,
and small caves cut for them in case of a bombardment. The position
extended for a length of some 150 meters on each side of the drift
along both banks of the river, and at its extremities, where an attack
was most to be feared, pits were dug down the riverbanks and across the
dry riverbed. These also were concealed as well as possible. The flanks
or ends were, of course, our greatest danger, for it was from here we
might expect to be rushed, and not from the open
veld. I was undecided for some time as to whether to clear a "field of
fire" along the river-banks or not, as 1 had no wish to give away our
presence by any suspicious nudity of the banks at each end of our
position. I finally decided, in order to prevent this, to clear the
scrub for as great a range as possible from the ends of the position,
everywhere below the ground level, and also on the level ground, except
for a good fringe just on the edges of the banks. This fringe I thought
would be sufficient to hide the clearance to any one not very close. I
now blessed the man who had left us some cutting tools. Whilst all this
was being carried out, I paced out some ranges to the north and south,
and these we marked by a few empty tins placed on ant-heaps, etc.
At dusk, when we had nearly all the pits finished and some of the
clearance done, tents and gear were hidden, ammunition and rations
distributed to all, and orders in case of an attack given out. As I
could not be everywhere, I had to rely on the outlying groups of men
fully understanding my aims beforehand, and acting on their "own." To
prevent our chance of a close-range volley into the enemy being spoilt
by some over-zealous or jumpy man opening fire at long range, I gave
orders that fire was to be held as long as possible, and that no man
was to fire a shot until firing had already commenced elsewhere (which
sounded rather Irish), or my whistle sounded. This was unless the enemy
were so close to him that further silence was useless. Firing having
once started, every man was to blaze away at any enemy within range as
judged by our range marks. Finally we turned in to our pit for the
night with some complacency, each eight men furnishing their own sentry.
We had about three hours next morning before any enemy were reported
from Waschout Hill (the prearranged signal for this was the raising of
a pole from one of the huts). This time was employed in perfecting our
defences in various ways. We managed to clear away the scrub in the dry
riverbed and banks for some 200 meters beyond our line of pits on each
side, and actually attained to the refinement of an "obstacle"; for at
the extremity of this clearance a sort of abatis entanglement was made
with the wire from an adjacent fence which the men had discovered.
During the morning I visited the post on Waschout Hill, found
everything all correct, and took the opportunity of showing the
detachment the exact limits of our position in the riverbed, and
explained what we were going to do. After about three hours work,
"Somebody in sight" was signaled, and we soon after saw from our
position a cloud of dust away to the north. This force, which proved to
be a commando, approached as already described in the last dream; all
we could do meanwhile was to sit tight in concealment. Their scouts
came in clumps of twos and threes which extended over some mile of
front, the centre of the line heading for the drift. As the scouts got
closer, the natural impulse to make for the easiest crossing place was
obeyed by two or three of the parties on each side of the one
approaching the drift, and they inclined inwards and joined forces with
it. This was evidently the largest party we could hope to surprise, and
we accordingly lay for it. When about 300 meters away, the "brethren"
stopped rather suspiciously. This was too much for some man on the east
side, who let fly, and the air was rent by the rattle as we emptied our
magazines, killing five of this special scouting party and two from
other groups further out on either side. We continued to fire at the
scouts as they galloped back, dropping two more, and also at the column
which was about a mile away, but afforded a splendid target till it
opened out.
In a very few moments our position was being shelled by three guns, but
with the only result, as far we were concerned of having one man
wounded by shell-fire, though the firing went on slowly till dark. To
be accurate, I should say the river was being shelled, our position
incidentally, for shells were bursting along the river for some
half-mile. The Boers were evidently quite at sea as regards to the
extent of our position and strength, and wasted many shells. We noticed
much galloping of men away to the east and west, out of range, and
guessed that these were parties who intended to strike the river at
some distance away, and gradually work along the bed, in order probably
to get into close range during the night.
We exchanged a few shots during the night along the riverbed, and not
much was done on either side, though of course we were on the qui vive
all the time; but it was not till near one in the morning that Waschout
Hill had an inning.
As I had hoped, the fact that we held the kraal had not been spotted by
the enemy, and a large body of them, crawling up the south side of the
hill in order to get a good fire on to us in the river, struck a snag
in the shape of a close-range volley from our detachment. As the night
was not very dark, in the panic following the first volley our men were
able (as I learnt afterwards) to stand right up and shoot at the
surprised burghers bolting down the hill. However, their panic did not
last long, to judge by the sound, for after the first volley from our
Lee-Metfords and the subsequent minutes of independent firing, the
reports of our rifles were soon mingled with the softer reports of the
Mausers, and we shortly observed flashes on our side of Waschout Hill.
As these could not be our men, we knew the enemy was endeavouring to
surround the detachment. We knew the ranges fairly well, and though, as
we could not see our sights, the shooting was rather guesswork, we soon
put a stop to this maneuvre by firing a small volley from three or four
rifles at each flash on the hillside. So the night passed without much
incident.
During the dark we had taken the opportunity to cunningly place some
new white sandbags (which I had found among the stores) in full view at
some little distance from our actual trenches and pits. Some men had
even gone further, and added a helmet here and a coat there peeping
over the top. This ruse had been postponed until our position was
discovered, so as not to betray our presence, but after the fighting
had begun no harm was done by it. Next morning it was quite a pleasure
to see the very accurate shooting made by "Brother" at these sandbags,
as betokened by the little spurts of dust.
During this day the veld to the north and south was deserted by the
enemy except at out-of-range distance, but a continuous sniping fire
was kept up along the riverbanks on each side. The Boer guns were
shifted - one to the top of Incidentamba and one to the east and west
in order to enfilade the river bank but, owing to our good cover, we
escaped with two killed and three wounded. The enemy did not shell
quite such a length of river this time. I confidently expected an
attack along the riverbank that night, and slightly strengthened my
flanks, even at the risk of dangerously denuding the north bank. I was
not disappointed.
Under cover of the dark, the enemy came up to within, perhaps, 600
meters of the open veld on the north and round the edges of Waschout
Hill on the south, and kept up a furious fire, probably to distract our
attention, whilst the guns shelled us for about an hour. As soon as the
gunfire ceased they tried to rush us along the riverbed east and west,
but, owing to the abatis and the holes in the ground, and the fact that
it was not a very dark night, they were unsuccessful. However, it was
touch-and-go, and a few of the Boers did succeed in getting into our
position, only to be bayoneted. Luckily the enemy did not know our
strength, or rather our weakness, or they would have persisted in their
attempt and succeeded; as it was, they must have lost 20 or 30 men
killed and wounded.
Next morning, with so many men out of my original 40 out of action (not
to include Waschout Hill, whose losses I did not know) matters seemed
to be serious, and I was greatly afraid that another night would be the
end of us. I was pleased to see that the detachment on Waschout Hill
had still got its tail well up, for they had hoisted a red rag at the
masthead. True, this was not the national flag, probably only a mere
handkerchief, but it was not white. The day wore on with intermittent
shelling and sniping, and we all felt that the enemy must have by now
guessed our weakness, and were saving themselves for another night
attack, relying upon our being tired out. We did our best to snatch a
little sleep by turns during the day, and I did all I could to keep the
spirits of the little force up by saying that relief could not be very
far off. But it was with a gloomy desperation at best that we saw the
day wear on and morning turn into afternoon.
The Boer guns had not been firing for some two hours, and the silence
was just beginning to get irritating and mysterious, when the booming
of guns in the distance aroused us to the highest pitch of excitement.
We were saved! We could not say what guns these were-they might be
British or Boer but, anyway, it proved the neighbourhood of another
force. All faces lighted up, for somehow the welcome sound at once drew
the tired feeling out of us.
In order to prevent any chance of the fresh force missing our
whereabouts, I collected a few men and at once started to fire some
good old British volleys into the scrub, "Ready—present—fire!!," which
were not to be mistaken. Shortly afterwards we heard musketry in the
distance, and saw a cloud of dust to the northeast. We were relieved!
Our total losses were 11 killed and 15 wounded; but we had held the
drift, and so enabled a victory to be won. I need not here touch upon
the well-known and far-reaching results of the holding of Duffer’s
Drift, of the prevention thereby of Boer guns, ammunition, and
reinforcements reaching one of their sorely pressed forces at a
critical moment, and the ensuing victory gained by our side. It is now,
of course, public knowledge that this was the turning point in the war,
though we, the humble instruments, did not know what vital results hung
upon our action.
That evening the relieving force halted at the drift, and, after
burying the dead, we spent some time examining the lairs of the Boer
snipers, the men collecting bits of shell and cartridge cases as
mementos-only to be thrown away at once. We found some 25 dead and
partly buried Boers, to whom we gave burial.
That night I did not trek, but lay down (in my own breeches and spotted
waistcoat). As the smoke from the "prime
segar," presented to me by the Colonel, was eddying in spirals over my
head, these gradually changed into clouds of rosy glory, and I heard
brass bands in the distance playing a familiar air: "See the Conquering
Hero comes," it sounded like.
I felt a rap on my shoulder, and heard a gentle voice say, "Arise, Sir
Backsight Forethought"; but in a trice my dream of bliss was
shattered-the gentle voice changed into the well-known croak of my
servant. "Time to pack your kit on the wagon, sir. Corfy’s been up some
time now, sir."
I was still in stinking old Dreamdorp.
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