BLOWING UP AN ARMOURED TRAIN.
We approached the line between Balmoral and Brugspruit, coming as
close to it as was possible with regard to safety, and we stopped in a
"dunk" (hollow place) intending to remain there until dusk before
attempting to cross. The blockhouses were only 1,000 yards distant
from each other, and in order to take our waggons across there was but
one thing to be done, namely, to storm two blockhouses, overpower
their garrisons, and take our convoy across between these two.
Fortunately there were no obstacles here in the shape of embankments
or excavations, the line being level with the veldt. We moved on in
the evening (the 27th of June), the moon shining brightly, which was
very unfortunate for us, as the enemy would see us and hear us long
before we came within range. I had arranged that Commandant Groenwald
was to storm the blockhouse on the right, and Commandant W. Viljoen
that to the left, each with 75 men. We halted about 1,000 paces from
the line, and here the sections left their horses behind and marched
in scattered order towards the blockhouses. The enemy had been warned
by telephone that morning of our vicinity, and all the pickets and
outposts along the line were on the "qui vive." When 150 yards from
the blockhouses the garrison opened fire on our men, and a hail of
Lee-Metford bullets spread over a distance of about four miles, the
British soldiers firing from within the blockhouses and from behind
mounds of earth. The blockhouse attacked by Commandant Viljoen offered
the most determined resistance for about twenty minutes, but our men
thrust their rifles through the loopholes of the blockhouses and fired
within, calling out "hands-up" all the time, whilst the "Tommies"
within retorted, "You haven't V.M.R.'s to deal with this time!"
However, we soon made it too hot for them and their boasting was
exchanged into cries of mercy, but not before three of our men had
been killed and several wounded. The "Tommies" now shouted: "We
surrender, Sir; for God's sake stop firing." My brave field-cornet, G.
Mybergh, who was closest to the blockhouses, answered: "All right
then, come out." The "Tommies" answered: "Right, we are coming," and
we ceased firing.
Field-Cornet Mybergh now stepped up to the entrance of the fort, but
when he reached it a shot was fired from the inside and he fell
mortally wounded in the stomach. At the same time the soldiers ran out
holding up their hands. Our burghers were enraged beyond measure at
this act of treachery, but the sergeant and the men swore by all that
was sacred that it had been an accident, and that a gun had gone off
spontaneously whilst being thrown down. The soldier who admitted
firing the fatal shot was crying like a baby and kissing the hands of
his victim. We held a short consultation amongst the officers and
decided to accept his explanation of the affair. I was much upset,
however, by this loss of one of the bravest officers I have ever
known.
Meanwhile the fight at the other blockhouse continued. Commandant
Groenwald afterwards informed me that he had approached the blockhouse
and found it built of rock; it was, in fact, a fortified ganger's
house built by the Netherlands South Africa Railway Company. He did
not see any way of taking the place; many of his men had fallen, and
an armoured train with a search-light was approaching from Brugspruit.
On the other side of the blockhouse we found a ditch about three feet
deep and two feet wide. Hastily filling this up we let the carts go
over. As the fifth one had got across and the sixth was standing on
the lines, the armoured train came dashing at full speed in our midst.
We had had no dynamite to blow up the line, and although we fired on
the train, it steamed right up to where we were crossing, smashing a
team of mules and splitting us up into two sections. Turning the
search-light on us, the enemy opened fire on us with rifles, Maxims
and guns firing grape-shot. Commandant Groenwald had to retire along
the unconquered blockhouse, and managed somehow to get through. The
majority of the burghers had already crossed and fled, whilst the
remainder hurried back with a pom-pom and the other carts. I did not
expect that the train would come so close to us, and was seated on my
horse close to the surrendered blockhouse when it pulled up abruptly
not four paces from me. The search-light made the surroundings as
light as day, and revealed the strange spectacle of the burghers, on
foot and on horseback, fleeing in all directions and accompanied by
cattle and waggons, whilst many dead lay on the veldt. However, we
saved everything with the exception of a waggon and two carts, one of
which unfortunately was my own. Thus for the fourth time in the war I
lost all my worldly belongings, my clothes, my rugs, my food, my
money.
My two commandants were now south of the line with half the men,
whilst I was north of it with the other half. We buried our dead next
morning and that evening I sent a message to the remainder of the
commandos, telling them to cross the line at Uitkijk Station,
south-west of Middelburg, whilst Captain Hindon was to lay a mine
under the line near the station to blow up any armoured train coming
down. Here we managed to get the rest of our laager over without much
trouble. The "Tommies" fired furiously from the blockhouses and our
friend the armoured train was seen approaching from Middelburg,
whistling a friendly warning to us. It came full speed as before, but
only got to the spot where the mine had been laid for it. There was a
loud explosion; something went up in the air and then the shrill
whistle stopped and all was silent.
The next morning we were all once more camped together at Rooihoogte.