On Commando by Dietlof Van Warmelo

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ON COMMANDO

by

DIETLOF VAN WARMELO

With a Portrait

Methuen & Co.
36 Essex Street W.C.
London
Colonial Library

1902

[Illustration: DIETLOF VAN WARMELO]

PREFACE

This book was written in 1901, while its author was a prisoner at
Ahmednagar. It was written in Dutch, and has been put into English by a
young lady from what was the Orange Free State.

The author is a friend and relation of mine, son of a clergyman in the
Transvaal, and of old Afrikander stock on both sides. His book is the
more valuable because of the absence of all literary pretensions, and it
may be taken as truly representative of the Afrikander spirit, which has
been so much misconceived in England.

FREDERIK VAN EEDEN

WALDEN, N. HOLLAND,
_July_, 1902

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

FOREWORD

I. AT THE BOUNDARY--ENTRANCE INTO NATAL--DUNDEE--LADYSMITH

II. SIEGE OF LADYSMITH--BATTLE OF THE ROOIRANDJES--BLOWING
UP OF THE CANNON

III. THE EIGHT-DAY BATTLE OF THE TUGELA--TALK OF
INTERVENTION--RELIEF OF LADYSMITH

IV. DEWETSDRIFT--RETURN TO, AND FLIGHT FROM, PRETORIA

V. TREK FROM MIDDELBURG TO RUSTENBURG--BATTLE OF SELIKATSNEK

VI. GUERILLA LIFE ON THE MAGALIES MOUNTAINS--NARROW ESCAPE
OF PRESIDENT STEYN AND GENERAL DE WET

VII. WITH PRESIDENT STEYN TO PRESIDENT KRUGER

VIII. WITH PRESIDENT STEYN IN THE BOSCHVELD--LOST

IX. PRACTICAL HINTS--ADVENTURE ON THE SABIE--NORTH OF LYDENBURG

X. FROM ROOSSENEKAL TO PIETERSBURG--WITH GENERAL BEYERS
TO THE MAGALIES MOUNTAINS

XI. BATTLE OF NOOITGEDACHT

XII. PAARDEKRAAL DAY--BATTLE IN THE MOAT--ATTACK ON KAALFONTEIN
STATION

XIII. COMMANDO SUFFERINGS

XIV. BATTLE OF BOESMANSKOP--FLIGHT OF WOMEN

XV. BATTLE OF CHRISSIESMEER--REUNION WITH GENERAL BEYERS

XVI. CAMPED NEAR TAFELKOP

CONCLUSION: BATTLE OF STOMPIES--IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY

MY LIFE ON COMMANDO

FOREWORD

Could I have known that the war would last so long, I might from the
beginning have taken notes. They would have brought back memories in a
way pleasant to me now, and perhaps also to those who have asked me to
write down my adventures.

Often it occurred to me to keep a diary, but I was obliged to give up
the idea because my clothes were sometimes so thoroughly drenched that
the letters in my pocket were not readable. Later on, when clothes were
scarce and pockets past mending, I often made the unpleasant discovery
that caused the fool, on his journey from the land of Kokanje, to cry to
the King: 'We have ridden at such a breakneck pace, see, everything has
slipped through this little hole!' Now I am obliged to write down my
adventures without any notes, so dates, numbers, and names of places
will occasionally be missing. It stands to reason that I--being an exile
in a strange country, in the fort of ... in ..., cut off from the world
outside and without any official reports--should simply limit myself to
my own personal experience. And, lastly, I must apologize to my readers
for so often speaking of myself and my friends; but that is inevitable
in this tale.

I shall pass rapidly over the first part of my life on commando. If my
memory plays me false--which is not very probable, as I still have a
lively recollection of the events--I shall be grateful for correction.

_July_, 1901.

I

AT THE BOUNDARY--ENTRANCE INTO NATAL--DUNDEE--LADYSMITH

When that part of the Pretoria town commando to which my brother Frits
and I belonged left for the Natal boundary on September 30, 1899, we
were all very enthusiastic, as could be seen from the nice new suits,
the new shining guns, and the sleek horses. Many ladies had come to the
station to see us off, and we were proud of having the opportunity to
fight for our country. Our departure seemed then to us a great occasion,
we were inexperienced in war. We had not yet learnt that one could pass
unscathed through many a fierce battle. We knew nothing of 'retreating'
and we knew all about the enemy with whom we were to come in contact. We
imagined that several sharp engagements would take place--that these
would be decisive battles in which many of our men would be killed, and
therefore the parting with relatives and friends was sad indeed.

Our Field-Cornet, Melt Marais, had told us that we had nothing to see to
except provisions for a day or two, as Government would supply us with
all necessaries at Zandspruit, where the commandos were to concentrate;
so many of us took neither pots, pans, nor mugs.

What a disillusion it was to find on our arrival at Zandspruit that
there were no tents, and as yet no provisions of any kind! So we were
initiated by having to pass the first nights of our commando life on the
open veld with insufficient food. And in the daytime our work was cut
out for us, as every other minute our horses disappeared--lost among the
thousands of horses that all looked exactly alike in the eyes of an
inexperienced townsman. Then it meant a running and seeking, an
examining of marks and tokens, until the stupid among us were obliged to
tie ribbons to our horses as a means of recognising them. And one, the
story goes, even tied a nosebag, with a bundle of forage, to his mount
so that it should not run away.

At length the provisions began to arrive, but the pots and pans were
still scarce and we could not even drink a cup of coffee till a tin of
jam or meat had been emptied.

We were just beginning to feel comfortable, when the time stated in the
ultimatum expired, and we had to cross the boundary of Natal. General
Erasmus was at the head of our commando. We spent the night near
Volksrust in a cold hail storm and rain. Those first days we are not
likely to forget. They were wet, cold days, and we were still
unaccustomed to preparing our own food and looking after ourselves.
Fortunately, we had the opportunity, a few days later, of supplying
ourselves with all necessaries at Newcastle.

Before we crossed the boundary General Erasmus had addressed us and told
us the news of our first victory--the taking of an armoured train at
Kraaipan; at that time we still made a fuss about such a trifle. Also,
in those days, we still looked up with respect to our leaders.

Ds. Postma, who accompanied us everywhere, led us in prayer. Not one of
the burghers seems to have known where the enemy were. We advanced
slowly and carefully, as we expected _to meet with the enemy at any
moment_; but we saw no signs of them until we came to Dundee. After a
rest of a few days we undertook the momentous expedition to the
mountains of Dundee, to the north of the town.

Towards evening we got the order to 'prepare for three days.' For three
days! And we had not even provisions enough for one. But we understood
that there could not yet be a proper commissariat, and we fought for our
country willingly, convinced of the justice of our cause; so we
'prepared' cheerfully.

Before the commando started, a terrible thunderstorm came on that slowly
passed over and was followed by a gentle rain. We rode hard in the dark,
through dongas, past farms and houses, zigzagging in a half-circle, to
the mountains of Dundee. No sound was to be heard except the dull thud
of the hoofs of the galloping horses. Now and again we whispered to each
other how delightfully we were going to surprise the enemy. When the
horses came to a sudden pause, and an inexperienced rider, owing to a
presentiment of evil, involuntarily uttered his wish to 'halt,' we
turned upon him angrily and called him 'traitor.' We did not then know
that we were far beyond earshot of the enemy. It stopped raining, and
towards morning we reached the mountains; and after we had with great
difficulty got our horses on to the mountains, we had to await the dawn
in the cold, drenched to the skin. A mackintosh is of small service in
such a rain. When the day dawned we led our horses higher up. A thick
fog had come on. General Lucas Meyer was to begin the attack on the
west, and we were to surprise the enemy from the heights.

When the roar of cannon announced the battle, we were full of
enthusiasm, but General Erasmus forbade anyone to move on before the fog
lifted. It was quite possible that the fog might be only on the
mountain-tops, because of their great height, and that we would have
clear weather as soon as we began to descend, therefore several of our
men begged General Erasmus to be allowed to go on ahead as scouts. But
he was very much against it, and said that the enemy might cut off our
retreat, and 'if the enemy surround us it is all up with us,' said he.
As soon as the roar of the cannon ceased, we withdrew some distance into
the mountains to let our horses graze. But we had only just off-saddled,
when from all sides came the cry of 'Saddle! saddle!' and from our left,
in the valley, came the sound of firing. A detachment of 250 khakies,
probably knowing nothing of our whereabouts, and intending to pass round
the mountains and attack Lucas Meyer in the rear, was compelled to
surrender in a few moments, after first having sought cover in a kraal
near a house.

We remained three days on the Dundee mountains, and during all that time
there was a steady drizzle, with intervals of hail and wind. Once when
it cleared up for a few hours we got the order to attack the town, but
it began to rain again, and that night we had to keep our positions in
the intense cold, without any covering. Fortunately, the enemy abandoned
their camp that night, and when we looked down upon the town next
morning the khakies had vanished. We had only the preceding day placed
our cannon in a position to command the camp.

When we returned to our saddles, the horses had strayed so far that it
took us almost all day to get them back. My uncle, Paul Mare, formerly
Volksraad member for Zoutpansberg, treated us to kaboe-mealies (roasted
maize), the first we had on commando, and we ate with great relish.

Meanwhile the commando had left. We followed, and entered Dundee, where
we helped ourselves hungrily to the good things from the shops placed at
the disposal of the commandos.

In an unorganized army looting is a necessary evil. There are always
some of the lower classes who are the ringleaders, and when the
commandos reach a house or farm that has already been looted, they join
in the looting 'because the burghers are on commando, and they must be
well supplied with all necessaries, so as to be able to fight well.' So
we reasoned, and we joined in the looting. I can affirm, to the honour
of our burghers, that it was not our intention to plunder, and in the
beginning much was done to prevent it. The lower class Uitlander, who
joined us for the sake of booty, and not for love and sympathy towards
us, was largely responsible for the bad name we got among right-minded
people who did not know the facts of the case. It was the same as
regards theft. If anyone missed his horse, he had but to look for it
among the 'Irish corps,' or some other Uitlander corps, and unless he
knew his beast well he would fail to recognise it, as both mane and tail
would have been cut short by the thief. I do not wish to pretend that
_we_ were always free from blame. It has happened that the Uitlander got
a very poor horse in exchange for his thoroughbred because a Boer had
tied the token of recognition to his own horse and made off with the
better one. The truth is that very few men are proof against the
demoralizing influence of war, and I will not deny that this war has
shown up our many faults; but in my tale I shall be able to take up the
cudgels for my people in cases where the rest of the world turned from
us because they were disappointed in their expectations of us.

After our departure from Dundee the looting went on freely. Then we
began to witness the devastation that is the irremediable consequence of
war. Here and there a house had been completely plundered. At Glencoe
Junction I entered the stationmaster's house, a well-furnished house
with beautiful pictures, books, and mirrors. Some massive silver mugs
and other articles of value were lying about. The family had only just
dined, for the cloth was still laid. I ate of the food on the table,
wrote a letter home with pen and ink, and left the house. Later on, when
I returned, it had been thoroughly looted and some of the mirrors
smashed. There were many of the riff-raff, Kaffirs and coolies in the
neighbourhood, and in all probability they had done the mischief.

When our commando left Dundee to move in the direction of Ladysmith,
part of the Pretoria town commando was sent to reinforce Lucas Meyer,
who was to follow the troops fleeing from Dundee with his commando. My
brother and I went with it. A terrible thunderstorm came on just then,
and during the whole march to Ladysmith it rained heavily. Every moment
we expected to come up with the troops, but they had too great a start,
and we did not overtake them at all. We were too late again. An English
General has said that 'the Boers are brave, and make good plans, but are
always twenty-four hours late.' That can be explained in this way. We
were accustomed to fighting against Kaffirs, who hid in woods and
mountains, and against whom we had to advance with the utmost
precaution, so as to lose as few lives as possible. So we were too
cautious in the beginning of the war. We would not make a great
sacrifice to win a battle.

On October 30 we were present, under Lucas Meyer, at the battle near
Ladysmith, but we did not come into action, as we belonged to a part of
the commando that had to hold a position to prevent attack in the rear.
The enemy did not attack our position at all, except with a few bombs,
because they suffered a great defeat near Modderspruit, and had to
retreat hurriedly. From our positions we could see how every time the
bombs burst among them the fleeing troops seemed to get 'mazed' for a
moment, and then went forward again.

At that time we were often in want of food. One must have suffered
hunger to know what it means. In a few linen bags I had some biscuits
that had first been reduced to crumbs through the riding, and then to a
kind of pap by the rain and perspiration of the horse. Often when I
felt the pangs of famine I added some sugar to this mess and ate it with
relish.

Some days later we left Lucas Meyer and returned to our commando, which
had meanwhile gone to the north of Ladysmith. During our absence
Zeederberg had taken the place of Melt Marais as Veld-Cornet.

II

SIEGE OF LADYSMITH--BATTLE OF THE ROOIRANDJES--BLOWING UP OF THE CANNON

When we surrounded the town and the siege began, all talk of the bananas
that we were to eat in the south of Natal came to an end.

Ladysmith ought never to have been besieged. On October 30 we should
have made use of our advantage. If we had at once followed the enemy
when they fled in disorder, we should in all probability easily have
taken those positions that would have involved the immediate surrender
of Ladysmith. Many lives would have been sacrificed, but not so many as
were sacrificed during the whole siege. And we might have used those men
who were necessary to maintain the siege elsewhere as an attacking
force. Instead of following up our advantage, we deliberately prepared
for a siege. The enemy meanwhile made use of the opportunity to entrench
themselves well. Most of our burghers were against our attempting to
take the town by assault when once it was thoroughly entrenched.

The Pretoria town commando and that from Krokodil River in the Pretoria
district occupied the position nearest to Ladysmith. This was a hill to
the north of the town, flat at the top, and surrounded by a stone wall.
In all probability the enclosed depression of about 500 paces in circuit
had been used as a cattle-kraal. Against that kopje (hill) we gradually
put up our tents. From our camp we looked on to a large flat mountain
that we called Little Amajuba, because on October 30 the first large
capture of prisoners had been made there. In front of our kopje, near
the foot, ran a donga, and at a distance of about 1,000 paces, parallel
to us, lay another oblong kopje occupied by the enemy. This kopje we
called Rooirandjes.

On November 8 we received the order from our General to attack the
Rooirandjes the following day. We were about 250 strong, and very
willing, as that position had not yet been entrenched. On a mountain to
our right a cannon had been placed that was to begin firing on the
enemy's position towards dawn. Distinct orders were given that our
Veld-Cornet was to be at the foot of Rooirandjes with his men before
daybreak. But something went wrong again, and it was already quite light
when we reached the donga. We found ourselves at a distance of about 700
paces from the Rooirandjes, and we had to cross an open space if we
still wished to storm the position. The enemy's watch already began
shooting at us.

The corporals let their men advance in groups of four from the donga to
the kopje, using the ant-hills as cover when they lay down. Our turn
came last, but meanwhile the enemy had received reinforcements, and the
nearest ant-hills were nearly all occupied, so that only three men could
go at a time. Such a shower of bullets fell that it was a miracle that
we came out of it alive. Fortunately I found a free ant-hill. My brother
had to share one with a comrade.

At last the cannon from the mountain fired a few shots, but stopped
again almost immediately--why, I do not yet know. So we were obliged to
lie in our positions. It was terribly hot, and not a cloud in the sky.
We suffered horribly from thirst, and scarcely dared move to get at our
water-bags. One of our comrades lay groaning behind me. He was shot
through both legs. The bullets kept flying over our heads to the kopje
behind us, where some of our burghers lay firing at the enemy. Every now
and again a bullet exploded in our neighbourhood with the noise of a
pistol-shot. I fancy only Dum-Dums make that peculiar noise. We had
already seen many such bullets taken from the enemy by our burghers in
the Battle of Modderspruit. Another burgher, Mulder, ran past me with a
smile on his lips, threw himself behind an ant-hill, immediately rose
again with the intention of joining some of our burghers in the front
ranks, who sat calmly smoking behind some rocks under a tree, but had
not gone two paces when he was shot in the thigh. There he had to lie
groaning until our brave Reineke, who was killed later on at Spion Kop,
saw a chance of carrying him away.

Some of us fell asleep from fatigue. One of our men on waking heard the
hiss of a bullet over his head at regular intervals, and thought that a
khaki had got closer up to him, and was firing at him from the side.
When he lifted his head he found that he had rolled away from all cover.
One, two, three, back he was again behind his ant-hill, and the
scoundrel stopped firing at him. It was lucky for us that the enemy were
such bad shots, or not many of us would have lived to tell the tale.

When our cannon at last, towards evening, condescended to bombard the
enemy, the firing almost wholly ceased, and we made use of that
favourable opportunity to get back to the donga. We had lain nine hours
behind those ant-hills, and, strange to say, there were only two wounded
on our side. We decided not to run the same risk again. In this way we
lost our confidence in men like the brothers Erasmus, General and
Commandant, who, in the first place, were incapable of organizing a good
plan of attack, and, secondly, never took part in a battle.

The months spent near Ladysmith were to most of us the most tedious of
the whole war. We had so little to do, and the heat between the glowing
rocks of the kopjes was awful. The little work we had was anything but
pleasant; it consisted chiefly in keeping guard either by day or by
night. In the beginning a very bad watch was kept. Later on we had to
climb the kopje at least every alternate evening to pass the long nights
in our positions, while not far behind us stood our empty tents.

When we got back in the morning with our bundles on our backs, dead
tired, we simply 'flopped' on to a stone, and sat waiting for our cup of
coffee, either gazing at the lovely landscape or at the dirty camp,
according to the mood we were in, or exchanging loud jokes with our
neighbours. Constantly being on guard and constantly being in danger
wears one out. We much prefer active service on patrol or in a skirmish
to lying in our positions. It is not in the nature of the Boer to lie
inactive far from his home. He soon wants to go 'huis-toe' (home), and
very soon the 'leave-plague' broke out in our camp. That plague was one
of the causes why the enemy succeeded in breaking through our lines.

Through unfairness on the part of the officers, some burghers often got
leave, others never, and the consequence, of course, was a constant
quarrelling. Many burghers got leave and never returned--either with or
without the knowledge of the officers. No wonder we never had a proper
fighting force in the field.

The difficulties we had to contend with through want of organization
prevented the Generals from putting their plans into execution.

Fortunately, many burghers were very willing, and if there was to be a
fight they always went voluntarily. It was noticeable that those under a
capable General fought well, while those under a bad or incapable
General were very weak indeed. Sometimes wonders were done at the
initiative of some of the burghers. We had a few games in the camp to
pass the time, but we were kept busy in a different way also. Sometimes,
when we were all just comfortably lazy, the order would be given to
'mount.' That meant a hurried search for our horses and snatching up our
guns and bandoliers. But after a while we had had enough of those false
alarms, and they failed to make any impression on us. The call of 'The
English are coming! saddle, saddle!' became proverbial.

When we did not keep such constant guard, we sat or lay listening of an
evening to a most discordant noise caused by the singing of psalms and
hymns at the same time at different farms. We sometimes joined in. As a
people we are not very musical.

The day-watch we liked best. Then we often got a chance of firing a shot
at a careless khaki on the Rooirandjes. To some of our young men there
was something very exciting in the idea that they were in constant
danger. Every now and again a bomb, too, would come flying over the
camp, and the whole commando would make for the rocks amid shouts of
laughter.

At that time we still felt rather down when there was a fight in
prospect. When, some time after our attack on the Rooirandjes, we went
to the west of Ladysmith to attack Platrand, we did not feel at all
comfortable, although we went voluntarily. It was a lovely ride in the
dark at a flying gallop, but when we found on our arrival at Platrand
that the promised number of men was not there, we rode away again quite
satisfied that we had not to attempt the attack. For had we not made up
our minds not to risk a repetition of the attack on Rooirandjes?

The blowing-up of the cannon at Ladysmith is one of the episodes of the
war that we look back upon with a feeling of shame. A few days after a
Long Tom had been blown up on Umbulwana Kop, east of Ladysmith, I warned
our Field-Cornet that the enemy were busy spying in our neighbourhood at
night. While on guard, we could distinctly hear the flapping of the
saddles and the neighing of the horses in front of us. I foretold a
repetition of what had happened on Umbulwana Kop. The Field-Cornet
promised that the guard would be doubled that night. Towards morning
those of us who were not on guard were waked out of our sleep by a loud
cry of 'Hurrah!' from the throats of a few hundred Englishmen who were
blowing up two cannon on a mountain to our right, close to us. We sprang
towards our positions, stumbling and falling over stones, not knowing
what was going on, and expecting the khakies at any moment. It was the
first time that we had heard a fight at night, and it gave us a creepy
feeling. We saw the flames of the guns and from the exploding bullets,
and heard the rattling of the shots and the shouting, but we could not
join in the fight, as we--eight of us--were not allowed to leave our
positions. Now and again a bullet fell in our neighbourhood, and the
Free State Artillery, who were on the mountains to the right, fired some
bombs at the enemy, nearly hitting us in the dark.

When it got lighter we went to look at the dead and wounded, perhaps
from a feeling of bravado, perhaps to accustom ourselves to the sight.
The enemy had paid dearly for their brave deed. They know the number of
their dead and wounded better than we do, for they had opportunity
enough to carry them away. On our side only four were killed and a few
wounded. Niemeyer, Van Zyl and Villiers were among the killed. Pott was
severely wounded. Niemeyer had several bayonet wounds.

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