Of the many aspects of this campaign none perhaps is more thrilling than
life on the forward patrol. For the duty of these fellows is to go
forward with armed native scouts far in advance of the columns, to find
out what the Germans are up to, their strength, and the disposition of
their troops. Their reports they send back by native runners, who not
infrequently get captured. Like wolves in the forest they live, months
often elapsing without their seeing a white face, and then it is the
kind of white man that they do not want to see; every man's hand against
them, native as well as German, unable to light fires at night for fear
of discovery, sleeping on the ground, creeping up close, for in this
bush one can only get information at close quarters; always out of food,
forced to smoke pungent native tobacco. They have to live on the game
they shoot, and it is a hundred chances to one that the shot that gives
them dinner will bring a Hun patrol to disturb the feast. Theirs is
without doubt the riskiest job in such a war as this.
Here is the story of a night surprise, as it was told me. The long trek
had lasted all day, to be followed by the fireless supper (how one longs
for the hot tea at night!), and the deep sleep that comes to exhausted
man as soon as he gets into his blankets. Drowsy sentries failed to hear
the rustling in the thicket until almost too late; the alarm is given,
pickets run in to wake their sleeping "bwona," all mixed up with
Germans. The intelligence party scattered to all points of the compass,
leaving their camp kit behind them. There was no time to do aught but
pick up their rifles (that is second nature) and fly for safety to the
bush. Now this actual surprise party was led by one Laudr, an
Oberleutnant who had lived for years in South Africa, and had married an
English wife. Laudr had the reputation of being the best shot in German
East, but he missed that night, and my friend escaped, unharmed, the
five shots from his revolver. Next morning, cautiously approaching the
scene of last night's encounter, he found a note pinned to a tree. In it
Laudr thanked him for much good food and a pair of excellent blankets,
and regretted that the light had been so bad for shooting. But he left a
young goat tied up to the tree and my friend's own knife and fork and
plate upon the ground.
Another story this resourceful fellow told me concerning an exploit
which he and a fellow I.D. man, with twenty-five of their scouts, had
brought off near Arusha. They had been sent out to get information as to
the strength of an enemy post in a strongly fortified stone
building--the kind of half fort, half castle that the Germans build in
every district as an impregnable refuge in case of native risings. With
watch towers and battlements, these forts are after the style of
mediæval buildings. Equipped with food supplies and a well, they can
resist any attack short of artillery. Learning from the natives that the
force consisted of two German officers and about sixty Askaris, my
friend determined not to send back for the column that was waiting to
march from Arusha to invest the place. Between them they resolved to
take the place by strategy and guile. Lying hid in the bush, they
arranged with friendly natives to supply the guard with "pombe" the
potent native drink. Late that night, judging from the sounds that the
Kaffir beer had done its work, they crept up and disarmed the guard.
Holding the outer gate they sent in word to the commandant, a Major
Schneider, the administrator of the district, to surrender. He duly came
from his quarters into the courtyard accompanied by his Lieutenant.
"Before I consider surrender," he said, "tell me what force you've got?"
"This fort is surrounded by my troops, that is enough for you," said our
man. "In any case you see my men behind me, and, if you don't 'hands
up,' they'll fire." And the "troops"--half-clad natives--stepped forward
with levelled rifles.
The next morning the Major, still doubting, asked to see the rest of the
English troops, and on being informed that these were all, would have
rushed back to spring the mines that would have blown the place to
pieces. But the Intelligence Officer had not wasted his time the
previous night, and had very carefully cut the wires that led apparently
so innocently from the central office of the fort. My friend brought
this Major, a man of great importance in his district, to Dar-es-Salaam;
and during the whole journey the German never ceased to complain that
bluffing was a dishonourable means of warfare to employ.
On yet another occasion he had an experience that taxed his tact and
strength to the utmost. In the course of his work he seized the
meat-canning factory near Arusha that a certain Frau ----, in the
absence of her husband, was carrying on. The enemy used to shoot
wildebeest and preserve it by canning or by drying it in the sun as
"biltong" for the use of the German troops. My friend was forced to burn
the factory, and then it became his duty to escort this very practical
lady back to our lines. This did not suit her book at all. With tears
she implored him to send her to her own people. She would promise
anything. Cunningly she suggested great stores of information she might
impart. But he cared not for her weeping, and ordered her to pack for
the long journey to Arusha. Then tears failing her she sulked, and
refused to eat or leave her tent. But this found him adamant. Finally
she tried the woman's wiles which should surely be irresistible to this
man. But he was unmoved by all her blandishments. So surprised and
indignant was he that he threatened to tell her husband of her
behaviour, when he should catch him. But here it appears he made a false
estimate of the value of honour and dishonour among the Huns. "A loyal
German woman," she exclaimed, laughing, "is allowed to use any means to
further the interests of her Fatherland. My husband will only think more
highly of me when he knows." So this modern Galahad of ours turned away
and ordered the lady's tent to be struck and marched her off, taking
care that he himself was far removed from her presence in the caravan.
"What fools you English are," she flung back at him, as he handed her
into the custody that would safely hold this dangerous apostle of
_Kultur_ till the end of the war.
"HUNNISHNESS"
Wearily along the road from Korogwe to Handeni toiled a little company
of details lately discharged from hospital and on their way forward to
Division. Behind them straggled out, for half a mile or more, their line
of black porters carrying blankets and waterproof sheets. Arms and necks
and knees burnt black by many weeks of tropic sun, carrying rifle and
cartridge belts and with their helmets reversed to shade their eyes from
the westering sun, this little body of Rhodesians, Royal Fusiliers and
South Africans covered the road in the very loose formation these
details of many regiments affect. Far ahead was the advance guard of
four Rhodesians and Fusiliers. Nothing further from their thoughts than
war--for they were thirty miles behind Division--they were suddenly
galvanised into action by the sight of the advance guard slipping into
the roadside ditches and opening rapid rifle fire at some object ahead.
For at a turn of the road the advance guard perceived a large number of
Askaris and several white men collected about one of our telegraph
posts, while, up the post, upon the cross trees, was a white man, busily
engaged with the wires. One glance was sufficient to tell these wary
soldiers that the white men were wearing khaki uniforms of an unfamiliar
cut and the mushroom helmet that the Hun affects. So they took cover in
the ditches and opened fire, especially upon the German officer who was
busily tapping our telegraph wire. Down with a great bump on the ground
dropped the startled Hun, and the Askaris fled to the jungle leaving
their chop boxes lying on the road. From the safe shelter of the bush
the enemy reconnoitred their assailants, and taking courage from their
small numbers, proceeded to envelop them by a flank movement. But the
British officer in charge of the details behind, knew his job and threw
out two flanking parties when he got the message from the advance guard.
Our men outflanked the outflanking enemy, and soon as pretty a little
engagement as one could hope to see had developed. Finding themselves
partly surrounded by unsuspected strength the Germans scattered in all
directions, leaving a few wounded and dead behind upon the field. There
on his back, wounded in the leg and spitting fire from his revolver, was
lying the German officer determined to sell his life dearly. His last
shot took effect in the head of one of the Fusiliers who were charging
the bush with the bayonet; up went his hands, "Kamerad, mercy!" and our
officer stepped forward to disarm this chivalrous prisoner. Then they
wired forward to our hospital, at that time ten miles ahead, for an
ambulance, and proceeded to bury their only casualty and the dead
Askaris.
Happening to be on duty, I hurried to the scene of this action in one of
our ambulances, along the worst road in Africa. There I found the German
officer, an Oberleutnant of the name of Zahn, lying by the roadside
gazing with frightened eyes out of huge yellow spectacles. We dressed
his wound and gave him an injection of morphia, a cigarette, and a good
drink of brandy, and left him in the shade of a baobab tree to recover
from his fears. Then I turned toward the dividing of the contents of
captured chop boxes that was being carried out under the direction of
the officer in charge. On occasions such as these, the men were rewarded
with the only really square meal they had often had for days; for the
Hun is a past master in the art of doing himself well, and his chopboxes
are always full of new bread, chocolate, sardines and many little
delicacies. I stepped forward to claim the two Red Cross boxes that had
obviously been the property of the German doctor, and with some
difficulty--for no soldier likes to be robbed of his spoil--I managed to
establish the right of the hospital to them. In the boxes were not only
a fine selection of drugs and surgical dressings and a bottle of brandy,
but also the doctor's ammunition. And such ammunition too. Huge
black-powder cartridges with large leaden bullets; they would only fit
an elephant gun; and yet this was the kind of weapon this doctor found
necessary to bring to protect himself against British soldiers. Had that
doctor been caught with his rifle he would have deserved to be shot on
the spot. Nor were our men in the best of moods; for they had seen the
dead Fusilier, and were furious at the wounds these huge lead slugs
create.
The orderlies then lifted the German officer tenderly into the
ambulance; and the prisoner, now feeling full of the courage that
morphia and brandy give, beckoned to me. "Meine Uhr in meiner Tasche,"
he said, pointing to his torn trouser. "Well, what about it?" I asked.
Again he mentioned his watch in his pocket, and looked at his torn
trouser. "Do you suggest," I said sternly, "that a British soldier has
taken your beastly watch." "No, no, not for worlds," he exclaimed; "I
merely wish to mention the fact that when I went into action I had had a
large gold watch and a large gold chain, and much gold coin in my
pocket. And now," he said, "behold! I have no watch or chain." "What," I
said again, "do you suggest that these soldiers are thieves?" "No! Not
at all; but when I was wounded the soldiers, running up in their anxiety
to help me and dress my wound" (as a matter of fact they had run up to
bayonet him, had not the officer intervened, for this swine had
forfeited his right to mercy by emptying his revolver first and then
surrendering) "inadvertently cut away my pocket in slitting up my
trouser leg." "Then your watch," I continued coldly, "is still lying on
the field, or, if a soldier should discover it, he will deliver it to
General Headquarters, from whence it will be sent to you." Sure enough
that evening the sergeant-major in charge of the rearguard came in with
the missing watch and chain.
Later, we learned, from diaries captured on German prisoners, what
manner of brute this Zahn was.