"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 defences I was going to make, I
sent out at once two examining posts of one N.C.O. and three men each,
one to the top of Waschout Hill, and the other some 1,000 yards out on
the veldt 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 new-comers 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 out of the
question.
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 defences,
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 among the bush,
which resulted in close range fire opening onto 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, along each
trench, and from behind 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 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 twenty-four 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 yards' 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 the male Kaffirs from the
neighboring 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 "backchat" 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, twenty-four of us
killed, and the Boers over the drift. "Ah, B.F., my boy," I thought,
"there must be a few more lessons to be learnt besides those you
already know," and in order to find out what these were, I pondered
deeply over the details of the fight.
How the Boers must have known of our position, and how they had
managed to get close up all round within snapshooting range without
being discovered. What a tremendous advantage they had had 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, and was watching. 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-thickness
can be easily tested practically.
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 defences, letting them go free to warn their friends
of your existence and whereabouts--even though they do not know the
details of your defences. It would be very much better to gather in
all such strangers and kindly, but firmly, to take care of them, so
that 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 black men (even though they be
brothers and neutrals) to sit and pick their teeth outside their
kraals whilst tired white men are breaking their hearts trying to do
heavy labor in short time. It is more the duty of a Christian soldier
to teach the dusky neutral the dignity of labor, and to keep 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.