Monday, September 17th. There is a funeral to-day--an officer's--and we
(the Composite Squadron) are stopping in camp for it, as it concerns us.
So I will tell you all about it. Yesterday was Sunday, seldom a day of
rest out here. We, the three squadrons of Yeomanry attached to Clements'
force, were sent out early on a reconnaissance. Without any opposition
we advanced in a westerly direction towards Boschfontein, almost the
same way as on Monday last, for about four miles, the Devon and Dorset
troops of our squadron being on the right, our Sussex troop on the left,
the Roughriders (72nd I.Y.) in reserve, and the Fife Light Horse
scouting ahead. The Fifes had reached the foot of a high grass-covered
kopje, and were about to ascend it, when the enemy opened a hot fire on
them, causing them to scoot for their lives, which they managed to do
successfully. We then galloped up, dismounted, and opened fire on the
hill-top, the Devons and Dorsets doing the same on our right, and the
Fifes falling back on our left. Where the Roughs were we never knew,
probably their officers did. Taking into account the absence of the Nos.
3, with the led horses, and one group of our troop being sent some
distance to the left, we only numbered six and our officer, Mr.
Stanley, well-known in the cricket world as a Somerset county man. Our
led horses were in a donga in the rear. The position we occupied, I
should mention, was at the base of a kopje opposite to that held by the
Boers. We were sighting at 2,000, when our captain, Sir Elliot Lees,
rode up and said he could not make out where the Devons and Dorsets who
should have been on our right, were. As a matter of fact they had
retired unknown to us. This the wily Boers had seen and quickly taken
advantage of, for Sergeant-Major Cave, of the Dorsets, rushing up to us
crouching down, told us to fire to our right front, where some trees
were about three or four hundred yards away, and from which a heavy fire
was being directed at us. Sir Elliot Lees then came up again from our
left. Mr. Stanley, seeing the hot corner we were in, retired us about a
dozen yards back to the deepest part of the donga, where our led horses
were, and ordered the fellows with the horses to retire, and later, gave
the command for us to do the same in rushes by threes. Meanwhile our
bandoliers were nearly empty, and the Boers were creeping round to our
right, which would enable them to enfilade our position. The first three
retired, and we were blazing away to cover them, with our heads just
showing as we fired over the top of the donga, when the man on my right
said, "Mr. Stanley is hit," and looking at him, for he was close to me
on my left, I saw he was shot through the head, the blood pouring down
his face. Sir Elliot, the other man, and myself were the only ones left
in the donga then, so the captain, taking hold of poor Stanley by his
shoulders, and I his legs, we started to carry him off. As we picked him
up, he insisted, in a voice like that of a drunken man, on somebody
bringing his carbine and hat. "Where's my rifle an' hat? Rifle an' hat!"
The third man took them and gat--I heard this later. You have no idea
what a weight a mortally-wounded man is, and the poor fellow was in
reality rather lightly built. On we went, stumbling over stones, a
ditch, and into little chasms in the earth. Once or twice he mumbled,
"Not so fast, not so fast!" The bullets buzzed, whistled, and hummed by
us, missing us by yards, feet, and inches, knocking up the dust and
hitting the stones and thorn bushes we staggered through. We, of course,
presented a big mark for the Boers, and were not under any covering
fire so far as I am aware. The captain, who is grit all through, soon
found it impossible to carry the poor fellow by the shoulders, the
weight being too much for him, so I offered, and we changed places, Sir
Elliot taking his legs and on we went, pausing, exhausted, perspiring
and breathless, now and again, for a rest. At last, turning to our left,
we reached a little bit of cover, thanks to a friendly rise in the
ground, and falling into a kind of deep rut with Stanley's body on top
of me, I waited while the captain went to see if he could get any
assistance. Presently he returned with a Somerset man; and a minute or
so later a Fife fellow, a medical student, came up. The former and I
then got him on a little farther. After a few minutes' deliberation, the
captain said, reluctantly, "we must leave him." We all three asked
permission to stay. To which Sir Elliot replied, "I don't want to lose
an officer and three men. Come away, men!" We then moved the poor fellow
into a cutting about two feet deep and three feet wide, and arranged a
haversack under his head. As we loitered, each unwilling to leave him
first, Sir Elliot thundered at us to come on, saying, "I don't know why
it is, but a Yeoman never will obey an order till you've sworn at him."
Then reluctantly we set off in single file, working our way back by the
bank of a stream, and still under cover of the rise in the ground, a
little way up which we found one of our Sussex men, with his horse
bogged to the neck. Further on we paused a moment, and the Fife man,
saying that he thought the wound was not mortal, suggested that it would
be well for somebody to be with Stanley so as to prevent him from
rolling on it, and then asked permission to return. My Fife friend had
not seen what I had. He had only seen where the bullet went in, not
where it came out. Seeing that the captain was about to give him
permission, I said "Mr. Stanley is my officer, sir, and I have the right
to go," and he let me. I gave one my almost-empty bandolier, and another
my haversack, telling him it contained three letters for the post,
and--if necessary, to post them. My rifle I had already thrown into a
ditch at Sir Elliot's command. Then I worked my way back, hoping that I
should not be shot before reaching him. I got there all right, and
evidently unseen; lying down by him, I arranged my hat so as to keep
the sun off his face, and cutting off part of my left shirt-sleeve,
with the water from my bottle, used half of it to bathe his temples and
wipe his bubbling, half-open mouth. The other I moistened, and laid over
the wound. He was quite unconscious, of course, and his case hopeless.
Once I thought he was gone, but was mistaken. The second time, however,
there was no mistake.
I waited by the brave man--who had been our troop leader for the last
fortnight, and who had, I am sure, never known fear--for some time
deliberating what to do. Shots were still being fired from somewhere in
my vicinity, while our firing I had gloomily noted had receded, and
finally ceased. By-and-bye, all was silent, then a bird came and chirped
near me and a butterfly flitted by. At length, as it appeared to me
useless to wait by a dead man, I determined to get back to camp, if
possible, instead of waiting to be either shot in cold blood, or made a
prisoner. After carefully going through all his pockets, from which I
took his purse, watch, whistle, pipe, pouch, and notebook, and,
attaching his glasses to my belt, having arranged him a little and laid
my bloody handkerchief over his face, I got up, and worked my way along
by the river bank till compelled to go into the open. I trusted to a
great extent to my khaki on the dry grass, and daresay it saved me from
making much of a mark; but spotted I was, and from the right and left
the bullets came very thick and unpleasantly close. For about a mile I
was hunted on the right and left like a rabbit. At first I ran a little,
but was done, and soon dropped into a staggering walk. After a while I
came on Dr. Welford and his orderly behind some rocks, just coming out,
but when he heard my news he turned back, and, as I refused to use his
horse, which he offered me, at my request rode off, and got potted at a
good deal. Further on, he waited for me. He is a brick, our doctor; and
when he learnt I was thirsty, and he saw my tired condition (the sun on
my bare head had been most unpleasant) he offered me a drop of whisky
and water, adding, "You'd better have it when we get round the bend of
the kopje ahead." I thanked him, and said I thought it would be more
enjoyable _there_. Enjoy it I did. Finally I reached the camp and told
the captain the sad news, at the same time handing in the gallant
officer's belongings. His watch was at 12.5 when I left him. Sir Elliot
was most kind to me, and said I had acted gallantly, and he had told the
major (commanding us). Then Major Browne came up, and he was also very
complimentary. Of course, there was nothing in what I had done that any
other man would not have done, and I told them so, especially as the
example set by the captain made it impossible for a man to be other than
cool. Lieutenant Stanley, who took command of us when we left Pretoria a
fortnight ago, had soon become very popular, for he was a thorough
sportsman, keen as mustard, quite unaffected and absolutely fearless. I
feel pleased with myself for taking everything off the poor fellow
before I left him; for when, late last night, the ambulance came in with
him, the doctor's orderly told me that they found him stripped of his
boots, gaiters, and spurs--which was all that were left worth taking.