On Commando by Dietlof Van Warmelo

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After that we were, of course, doubly careful. We have never been able
to discover who failed in their duty on guard. Cooper and Tossel were
suspected and accused. They were sent to Pretoria under arrest, but the
investigation never led to any result. We have every reason to believe
that our burghers were guilty of treachery more than once near
Ladysmith. Government ought from the start to have taken strict measures
against traitors and spies.

Some days after the blowing up of the cannon I sprained my left knee,
which I had already hurt before the war began. General Erasmus gave me
leave to go home for an unlimited time. On my way home I passed my
brother Willem without being aware of it. He had come from Holland,
where he was studying, to take part in the war.

What a meeting with relatives and friends! How much there was to tell!
Even then we had not experienced very much, and how much more will our
burghers have to tell their dear ones on returning from their exile in
strange countries! There will, alas! be much sorrow, too; for many of
our friends and relatives have been killed in this war, and many more
will have yet to give their lives for their country!

III

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

Before my knee was quite cured I returned to Ladysmith. The first thing
that caught my eye on my return to the camp was the balloon above
Ladysmith. It looked just like a large crocodile-eye as it followed all
my movements. When I went to look for my horse or to fetch water or
wood, there it stood, high up in the sky, and I felt as if it kept its
eye specially fixed on me, and as if I might expect a bomb at any
moment.

We had never in all our lives seen so many flies as at Ladysmith. We had
to hurry over our meals as they made eating almost an impossibility to
us. Fortunately, I was only a short time there, as towards the end of
January, 1900, part of our commando, including my brother and myself,
was sent to the Tugela as reinforcement. We had a distance of four and a
half hours to ride, and we had to ride hard, as the enemy were
determined to force their way through. We arrived the same day, just two
days after the enemy had tried to force their way through to the right
of Spion Kop and had been defeated. On nearing the high Tugela mountains
we heard more and more distinctly the constant rattling of bullets,
interrupted by the roar of the cannon and the bom-bom-bom of our saucy
bomb-Maxim, that made our hearts expand and those of the enemy shrink.
As we raced on to the foot of the mountains, the bullets that the enemy
were sending over the mountains to find the Boers raised the dust around
us.

The following morning we went to lie in a trench that had been dug by
our men on a rise to the right of Spion Kop. The previous day eight
burghers had been wounded there. Red Danie Opperman was Field-Cornet.
Not far from us, to our left, stood a few of our cannon, and facing us,
to our left, on the long mountain slope, we could see fourteen guns of
the enemy's. In front of us was a large wood, and close to that the
English camp. We could see the enemy moving in great close square
masses. It was a terribly hot day; we had to lie in the trenches, as all
day long the enemy fired at us from the smaller positions facing us, at
a distance of 15,000 paces; and constantly the bombs burst over our
heads. At regular intervals a lyddite bomb--that gave us a shock through
our whole body--came from the wood towards the cannon on our left. Once
only part of our entrenchment, where, fortunately, no one happened to
be, was blown to bits.

Whenever there was a moment's pause, we lifted our heads above the
trenches to have a look at the lovely landscape and at the positions of
our enemy. That day not one of us was wounded. Only the artillery
suffered. If our few cannon ventured to make themselves heard, eight or
more bombs followed in quick succession to silence them. Next to me lay
a man whose servant, a restless, impatient Bushman, most amicably
addressed him as Johnny. The Bushman went to and fro continually to a
'chum' of his who lay hidden behind a rock close to us. Once, on one of
his visits to his 'chum,' a bullet struck the ground close to his
heels; he stood still, looked slowly and defiantly from his heels to
the enemy, and said in a most emphatic tone, 'You confounded
Englishman!' and calmly proceeded on his way to his chum.

To the right of this position was an open space, almost level with the
immediate surroundings, but ending in a steep decline some 900 paces
further on. There we went towards evening with a reinforcement of the
Pretoria town commando that had followed us. The Field-Cornet made us
stand in rows, and told off forty men to dig a trench that night. The
rest of the men would relieve us the following night. My brother and I
were in the first shift. Towards morning, while we were still digging at
the trenches, fire was opened across the whole line of battle. We
imagined that we were being attacked, and jammed ourselves in the narrow
trench. But as the attack did not come off, and the bullets flew high
over our heads, we went on digging until daybreak. Then we noticed that
the enemy were lying in a trench about 800 paces ahead of us. We fired a
few shots at them, but saved our ammunition for an eventual storming.

The whole of that day and the two succeeding days there was a constant
salvo over our heads. The bullets flew over our heads like finches, and
did us no harm, but we had to be on our guard against the sharpshooters,
who occasionally fired close to us. That day (January 24), the heroic
Battle of Spion Kop took place, where our burghers, after having been
surprised in the night by the enemy and driven off the kop, obliged
them, after a stubborn fight, to abandon it again. The Pretoria men, who
were to have relieved us in the trench, took a great part in that
battle. Reineke, Yeppe, Malherbe, De Villiers, and Olivier were killed.
Ihrige was severely wounded.

All day long we lay listening to the fighting, for we could not sleep.
We had to stay in the trench three days and four nights before we were
relieved. Water and food were brought to us, or fetched by our men at
night, as we did not venture to leave the trench by day. We were safe
enough, for the bombs had not much effect on the sand-walls of our
trench, and there was always time to stoop to avoid them. The following
morning news was brought to us that the enemy had abandoned the whole
line of battle and were retreating in the direction of Chieveley.

The battle of the Tugela had lasted eight days.

I had again hurt my knee, and had to leave Ladysmith for Pretoria, from
whence I went to Warmbad at Waterberg to stay for a few weeks with Mrs.
Klein-Frikkie Grobler, who received me most kindly. My brother Frits got
leave for the first time then, too, and Willem remained at Ladysmith.
During my absence the English broke through at Pieter's Heights, where
Willem was made prisoner and Luettig, Malherbe and Stuart de Villiers
were killed. Meanwhile Frits had gone, with some other Pretoria men, to
the Orange Free State, where the enemy had surrounded General Cronje.

Since the beginning of the siege our burghers always thought the town
would fall soon. 'The khakies cannot hold out any longer! They have no
provisions, and their ammunition must be coming to an end! Buller can
never cross the Tugela, our positions are too good! What does it matter
if _I_ do go on leave? The khakies cannot get through!' That was the
opinion of most of the burghers. And if anyone ventured to point out
that the enemy _might_ force their way through because we did not all do
our duty, he was either not believed or looked upon as a traitor.
Meanwhile enthusiasm was dying out. The burghers lay in their lagers or
went home, trusting to the few willing ones, who ultimately proved not
strong enough to withstand the overwhelming force that Buller brought to
bear upon one point of our positions when he was obliged to force his
way through at no matter what cost.

No leave should have been given during the war, and here I may as well
mention--although this tale does not pretend to be a history of the
war--that it has been carried on with far too great laxity, owing to the
ignorance of our Generals and the demoralizing influence of
self-interest and nepotism. We should have sent our forces far into the
Cape Colony to get help from our brothers in a war that had been forced
upon us by England. The Colonial Afrikanders never had the opportunity
of standing by us, because we did not supply them with the necessary
ammunition or stretch out our hands towards them. Unless they had help
from our invading forces, they dared not risk a rising, because of the
confiscation of their property in case of failure.

We have had to suffer--to suffer cruelly for our sins. Our enemy forced
his way through the dyke that surrounded us, and like a stormy sea he
ruined our homes, devastated our fields, and caused us endless
suffering. Besides this, the talk of intervention had an enervating
effecton the commandos. In our commando, which was largely composed of
ignorant men, the strangest stories went round. One was that the
Russians had landed somewhere in South Africa with 100 cannon. There was
always talk of a great European War having broken out; and the
consequence was that the Boers counted on intervention or help from the
Powers, instead of depending on their own strength and perseverance. The
most sensible among us recognised the improbability of intervention. It
was not to the interest of any foreign Power to intervene in South
Africa where it had no firm footing, particularly as Chamberlain had, by
most cunning artifices, forced us to be the aggressors.

War was inevitable. Sooner or later it had to come. After the Jameson
Raid, which was really the beginning of the war, the Transvaal
Government recognised the dangerous position in which it stood, as an
isolated Republic, and was therefore obliged to arm itself with the most
modern of military equipments. Before the Jameson Raid race hatred was
dying out rapidly. The consequence of the raid was that the gap between
Boer and Englishman widened, the sympathy of the Uitlanders for us grew
deeper, and the Afrikander Bond grew stronger. England's prestige in
South Africa was threatened, and with it her rank as first Power in the
world. She had to maintain her supremacy in South Africa; while for us
it had become a question of all or nothing. England has evidently
succeeded in keeping up such friendly relations with the other Powers
that no intervention seems possible.

The relief of Ladysmith took place on February 28--a Majuba Day--a day
that had been marked as a red-letter day in our calendars. For nineteen
years the enemy have longed to wipe out the remembrance of that day, and
they have done so brilliantly and malignantly. Since that time we have
been humiliated and belittled. Our fall was great. For the first time
there was a general panic. The two Republics, being forced to venture on
war against a powerful kingdom, felt themselves staggering under the
heavy blow.

IV

DEWETSDRIFT--RETURN TO, AND FLIGHT FROM, PRETORIA

After the relief of Kimberley and Ladysmith we imagined that the
decisive battles would soon follow. Although my knee was not yet cured,
I went to Glencoe, whither our commandos had retreated. I was not five
days there when I had to leave, being unfit for active service. Again I
went to Warmbad for some weeks with Mr. Burgemeester Potgieter and his
family, and on my return to Pretoria remained in my office until the
beginning of May.

Meanwhile Frits had returned from the Free State, and my knee was cured.
We each bought ourselves a sturdy pony, and left, with some other
burghers, by train for Klerksdorp, from where we went on to Dewetsdrift,
on the Vaal River. General Viljoen was guarding the drift there with
some hundreds of burghers. We rode from there some four or five hours
into the Free State to spy the movements of the enemy.

From Dewetsdrift we went, under Commandant Boshoff, to Schoemansdrift,
Venterskroon, and Lindequidrift. Our division formed part of the escort
for the guns. Our route lay through beautiful scenery. The Vaal twists
and bends between two high mountains that curve on either side like the
roads the khaki makes with his double row of waggons over the hills of
the Hoogeveld. In every opening of the mountains lies a farm, a mean
little house, but among well-cultivated fields. In nearly every farm the
family was grieving for one of its members who had been taken prisoner
along with Cronje, and of whose fate they were in ignorance. The people
received us very kindly. Everywhere we got milk and biscuits, and we
found afterwards that those people were the kindest who had suffered the
most from the war.

As the enemy were already on their way to Johannesburg, we had to
retreat as rapidly as possible, first to Bank Station, near
Potchefstroom, and then by train to Langlaagte. To the north-west of
Johannesburg we had a skirmish with the enemy, who attacked us as we
were feeding our horses. It appeared that our guard was not on duty. I
have never seen horses saddled so quickly. Most of the burghers rode off
and left us behind with the guns. One ammunition waggon stuck in the
mud, and was left behind, but was brought in safety to Pretoria by Frans
Lottering, a comrade of mine, who rode back for it with some gunners
when we had fled. Lottering was given a sword by General de la Rey for
his brave conduct. Through negligence on the part of our officers we
lost on that occasion one gun, several waggons, and some of our men.

Almost all night long we retreated with our guns to Pretoria. We had not
lost courage. We all spoke of the thorough way in which our Government
would have fortified Pretoria, and of the great battle that would take
place there. We had all made up our minds to a stubborn resistance at
our capital. What a bitter disappointment it was to find that our
Government had decided not to defend the town! The causes that led to
such a decision will be brought to light by historians. The consequences
were that many of the burghers were discouraged, and rode 'huis-toe,'
and nothing came of the great battle that was to have been fought.

Frits and I decided to give our horses a few days' rest in their stables
before going to meet the enemy.

On June 4, at about twelve o'clock, while we were at luncheon, a lyddite
bomb fell close to the fort, raising a cloud of dust. My mother went
outside, and came back quickly to tell us that it was not a shot _from_
the fort, but from the enemy. The bombs followed in quick succession.
They flew over Schanskop fort, and fell close to our house at Sunnyside.
As the ground was rocky they exploded well. My mother and sister fled
with our neighbours to the town, and my brother and I saddled our horses
and rode off to Quaggaspoort.

From over the mountains, to the south of the town, the bombs came flying
as a gentle warning from the khakies that it would be better to
surrender in order to avoid a great calamity.

It was sad to see how few horses there were at the foot of the mountain.
Here a group of four, there of ten--a sign that the number of burghers
in the positions was very small indeed. When the enemy appeared at
Quaggaspoort, we noticed that the burghers from the direction of
Krokodil River were retreating, and a moment later they were all in full
flight. One of my comrades, a brother of Lottering, was wounded in the
arm by a shell as he fled, and had to remain behind in Pretoria. That
night my brother and I spent in our own home, but we left the town the
following morning in the direction of Silverton, just before the enemy
entered.

It would be well to try and understand the condition of our country and
the temper of our burghers.

As the capital was in the hands of the enemy, it was easy enough to
convince our simple-minded men that our country was irretrievably lost
to us. Therefore a period of discouragement and demoralization followed.
Many burghers, also, who had all along fought bravely now remained
behind in the towns or on their farms, not daring to leave their wives
and daughters at the mercy of the soldiers. We may not judge those men,
neither need we consider it to our credit that we, either from a sense
of duty or from a spirit of adventure, acted differently. There were
many also who argued that the Government was corrupt, and that the war
should have been prevented, or that the Boers did not want to fight. So
they also became unfaithful to the cause, and to those along with whom
they began the war. And the name of 'hands-upper' was earned by those
burghers who of their own free will surrendered to the enemy. The chaff
was divided from the grain; cowards and traitors remained behind, and
the willing ones went to the veld, even though it were in a retreating
direction. We were still very hopeful. There were still the good
positions in the Lydenberg district, and we had heard that De Wet had
cut the line of communication behind the enemy. We also still had an
intact line to Delagoa Bay.

My brother and I met our old comrade Frans Loitering, and the three of
us went in search of General Grobler of Waterberg, who lay with his
commando to the east of Pretoria at Franspoort, near Donkerhoek. There
we joined his commando. Our camp was put up near a Kaffir location, and
as the Kaffirs were clean, we often bought boiled sweet potatoes and
crushed maize from them.

Nothing particular happened at Franspoort. To the right and left of us
some desperate fighting went on for several days, and at Donkerhoek a
fierce battle took place, but we were not attacked.

When the news came that the enemy had broken through our lines at
Donkerhoek, and that we had to retreat, my brother and I left Grobler's
commando. Thinking that the commandos would fall back upon the positions
of Belfast, we went to Middelburg to an uncle of ours, the missionary
Jan Mare, in order to give our horses a rest. We had lost sight of our
comrade Frans. On our way we bought bread at the farms, or had it given
us, cut a piece off an ox that had been slaughtered for the commando,
and slept either in a manger or, as was more often the case, in the open
air of the cold Hoogeveld. We arrived at Middelburg completely
exhausted, and are not likely to forget our uncle's great hospitality.

We accidentally met our former Commandant, Boshoff, who told us that he
was on his way with ten men to join General de la Rey, who had gone in
the direction of Rustenburg to cut the enemy's line of communication
between Mafeking and Pretoria, and we very willingly joined him, after a
delightful rest of ten days.

The commando of Commandant Boshoff consisted of nine burghers with an
ambulance waggon--that was used for the commissariat and for our
bedding--a French doctor, two Kaffirs and two tents. It seemed as if we
were going for a picnic. But it was necessary that we should be well
provided with all sorts of things, as our journey would be through the
Boschland, where fever and horse-sickness play havoc with man and horse
in summer. In winter it is endurable for a few months only, so the
country is very scarcely populated and almost uncultivated, and in
winter the Boers trek there with their cattle from the bare, chill
Hoogeveld. I had always longed to see that part of the Transvaal.

V

TREK FROM MIDDELBURG TO RUSTENBURG--BATTLE OF SELIKATSNEK

Some hours north of Middelburg one suddenly leaves the high plateau of
the Boschveld for a difficult road that curves steadily downwards
between two high mountains until it reaches a wide, thickly-wooded
valley. In the kloof (mountain-pass) a swiftly-flowing river cuts the
road that goes along its banks, in several places, before it loses
itself in the Olifants River. There the song of many birds, not to be
found on the Hoogeveld, can be heard, and there it was delightfully
warm, in comparison with the chilly air of the Hoogeveld. Of an evening
we made large fires, as there was plenty of dry wood. We sat round the
fire, chatting or listening to the comic songs which one of our comrades
sang. It was a happy time--away from khaki, far beyond reach of the
roar of cannon--a time of rest in preparation for the evil days that
awaited us.

Everywhere we saw flocks of sheep and herds of cattle grazing among the
bushes--always a sign that we should find a waggon or two with tents
close to them, under the nearest trees. Sometimes, near a drift or a
good place to uitspan, quite a small lager had been formed of the trek
Boers, or, rather, of their wives, for the husbands and sons of many had
gone to the war. The Boers who fled with their cattle in that way we
called 'Bush-lancers.' We came up with De la Rey's lager near the Elands
River, and later on made the acquaintance of Captain Kirsten's scouts,
to whom we offered our services. In those days it was very pleasant to
belong to the reconnoitring corps. When we went to reconnoitre our
horses got plenty of forage on the farms, and as we were few in number
and always ahead of the lager, there were always eggs, bread, and milk
to be had. We had enough to do, also, as we had to keep a sharp
look-out, and we were in constant danger, but not at all afraid of the
patrols of khakies, which, being small in number and without their
guns, were pretty harmless. We advanced almost parallel to the Magalies
Mountains, that stretch from Pretoria to Rustenburg, until we came to
the neighbourhood of Selikatsnek. Unless one was well acquainted with
the highways and byways of that part of the country, one was in constant
danger of losing the way; it is a long stretch of bush, consisting of
the well-known thorn-bushes of the Hoogeveld, for a distance of about
ten miles deep. The principal passes of the Magalies Mountains were
occupied by the enemy--Wonderboompoort, Hornsnek, Selikatsnek,
Commandonek, Olifantsnek. General de la Rey had made up his mind to take
Selikatsnek, and on July 11 he succeeded, by his strong will and
military talent.

While we were reconnoitring with Captain Kirsten's party we got the news
that De la Rey had attacked Selikatsnek--about an hour's ride from where
we were--and that the battle was still going on. We all rode to the
scene of action, but my brother and I, with a few other men, remained
behind to wait for Captain Kirsten, who was absent at the time. As soon
as he arrived we rode off, and arrived at Selikatsnek at about nine
o'clock. Our burghers had already taken two of the enemy's guns.

Selikatsnek (or Moselikatsnek) is a narrow opening in the Magalies
Mountains, with high shoulders on either side, that slope gradually to a
white kopje in the centre. If an attacking party once occupies the
shoulders, it can easily keep the enemy on the kopje or on the two
slopes. When we arrived our burghers already occupied the principal
positions--both shoulders and the smaller positions to the front of the
kopje. The enemy had been obliged to draw in their clipped wings, and to
concentrate on and in the neighbourhood of the white kopje.

But as the shoulders of the pass were very steep on the other side, our
men could not surround the enemy or attack them in the rear; and as
there was not sufficient cover for them to go down the slope without
great loss, in order to drive the enemy by force from their positions,
the burghers remained 'rock-fast' in their positions, and made no
progress at all. Thus, the enemy would either get reinforcements from
Pretoria or escape when it got dark. Both our flanks kept up a constant
fire on the slopes, and on the white kopje, but the shoulders were too
high for a proper aim, and the khakies lay fast behind the boulders and
in the clefts of the rocks.

Captain Kirsten, with about ten men, was ordered by General Coetzee to
hold a position to the right of the white kopje, and prevent the enemy
from taking it. This position consisted of a small rise, from which we
could fire at the kopje with a sight of 550 paces. To the right of this
rise, at a distance of 80 paces, was a small kloof overgrown with
bushes, and on the other side of the kloof ran a reef of rocks in the
direction of the white kopje. Here some of the burghers had before our
arrival forced eleven khakies to surrender, but they had not succeeded
in occupying the position, as some khakies had remained in the kloof,
and had shouted to them that they would not surrender. We were therefore
warned against that kloof. But while the others were shooting at the
enemy on the white kopje, one of our men went by himself to see if there
really were any khakies left there. He kept under cover wherever he
could--behind the rocks and behind the walls of an old kraal--and came
close up to the kloof without being fired at. On the other side, at a
distance of fifty paces, he heard a wounded man groaning and begging for
water; but, as he was alone, he did not venture to cross the kloof. He
returned to his comrades, but they would pay no attention to his request
to cross, as they thought the enemy were only waiting until more men
came under fire before they began firing.

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