With Botha in the Field | Page 7

rebels were, when a hail of rifle fire at short
range greeted us. Our fellows were out of their saddles in a second, and
advanced to the attack through the bush. Meantime, the South African
Police extreme left had swept round to the head of the spruit on both

sides of which the donga was formed, the South African Mounted
Riflemen and more South African Police closed in, the Defence Force
unit getting in rear and in flank of the rebels to cut them off. The
attacking party had to work their way through open veld before they
could charge the enemy; they made a mark as good as standing game. It
was two and a half hours before the "Cease-fire" whistle sounded.
[Illustration: General Botha's train leaves the Orange Free State after
the crushing of the Rebellion]
[Illustration: Exhausted Troops after defeating De Wet in the Orange
Free State]
It fell to me to be a horse-holder (one man in each section is, of course,
a horse-holder when mounted infantry are in action) in this fight. In
nightmare I have passed that evening since--and wakened quickly, too.
The worst of rifle fire is that you can hear bullets whizzing and spitting
in trees, but it takes an experienced hand to divine direction. It was
only afterwards I found out that a party of rebels were firing on our
horses in rear. The horses knew it, though, and shewed it in their eyes.
The sun came watery through the clouds just before sunset; I remember
during the lulls in the wicked coughs of rifle fire hearing doves cooing
gently in the sun-pierced trees.
[Illustration: Leaving Pretoria. General Botha's Bodyguard departing]
[Illustration: Kits aboard. The Troops departing for the Front]
[Illustration: Camp of the Bodyguard at Groote Schuur]
When darkness fell we had captured Fourie, his brother and all his
following, except nine men who made their escape at the beginning of
the fight. The loyalist casualties in this action were twelve killed and
twenty-four wounded. I saw a man who had shared a last cigarette with
me as we rode into the action that afternoon lying dead on a blanket
three hours later. In that instant I learnt something of the true meaning
of war.
There are hundreds of brave deeds that must go unrecognised in these
days. But from what I know of this particular action there was an
amount of gallantry and quiet heroism displayed amongst the fellows
that deserved more than casual comment. I could speak of things I saw,
and would like to, moreover. But as for my pains a punched head from
outraged modesty would be the reward I shall say no more.
A few days later Fourie was tried by court-martial, convicted, and shot

at dawn. In the last days of December the few remaining rebels at large
either surrendered or were captured. As the last days of the Old Year
slipped by, rebellion within the Union of South Africa died out, and
General Botha spent the holidays in peace on his farm at Rusthof--in
the haven where he fain would be.


PART II


THE CAMPAIGN OF SOUTH-WEST
AFRICA

SECTION I
THE PRELIMINARY CANTER
At the stroke of seven on the evening of January 13, 1915, a train
steamed out of Pretoria station to the accompaniment of roars of
cheering. And few in the imposing string of carriages that made the
train were sober within the meaning of the act. But everyone was in the
highest spirits. The Rebellion was over. The New Year was with us.
After weary days our real business was on hand. We were off to
German West at last.
We reached Cape Town on the 15th. I am particular about the date, not
entirely as a result of a desire for meticulous accuracy. All who started
on the South-West Campaign will remember their Cape Peninsula
experience after the heat and burden of the Rebellion. The authorities
might have chosen most of our camping grounds about Cape Town
with the genial purpose of providing a kind of military holiday as a
preliminary canter to the campaign proper. The unit to which I was
attached had its temporary resting place on the slopes of Table
Mountain at Groote Schuur, on the Rhodes Estate. And I fancy the

world has on its vast surface few spots more alluring and more bracing
to the spirit.
Up till that time South Africa itself had never put an expeditionary
army, to be shipped by sea, on a war footing, and at Cape Town the
work of equipping the South-West African Expeditionary Force was
carried on and finished during the four weeks we were there. The quiet
pine and fir lined roads on the Rondebosch side of Table Mountain
complained daily under the traffic