"O wad some power the giftie 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 out 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-heap, 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 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--"Al zal recht 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 color-sergeant, winked
solemnly and officially, and seeing an answering but respectful quiver
in his left eyelid, said:
"Color-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 signalling 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 and 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 really looked quite neat, with the fresh
red earth contrasting with the yellow of the veldt. As one of my
reservists remarked, it only wanted an edging of oyster shells or
ginger-beer 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 advance 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 1,800 yards 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 two men only 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 river-bank in front, to the north and
north-east, and kept the parapet one continual spirt of dust as they
smacked into it. All we could do was to fire by sound at various
likely bushes on the river-bank, and this we did with the greatest
possible diligence, but no visible result.
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 anthill 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 harassed.
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 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 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 had 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 into the open air, and
to the left did not touch ground for some 3,000 yards away on the
veldt 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
veldt to the north, a sound as of some one 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 veldt 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 to enfilade our trench before
they even knew where we were?
Pompom pompompom 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 twenty-five killed and seventeen 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--
"Somethink 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 somethink 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 knew of
our arrival, who 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 veldt just south
of the drift was a brownish-red streak, as plain 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 prevent 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 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 bullet-proof 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.