On 7th July we loaded up and marched out south-west, on the bush-road over the Lukigura River. In the afternoon Makindu, which had already been occupied by General Sheppard’s column, was reached, and there we camped. Immediately on camping we were shelled by the enemy for about an hour, but little damage was done.
260 MILES FROM THE FRONTIER
Makindu, this village on the Msiha River, which we had reached and where we were destined to stay for a time, is still some seventy-five miles north of our objective—Morogoro, and the Central Railway. But a great trek has been accomplished, for we are now 260 miles from Mbuyuni, our starting-point on the frontier. Needless to say this exceedingly long line of communication has made the transport of supplies a tremendous undertaking, therefore it was not unreasonable that, for the next month, we lay at Makindu while transport difficulties were mastered and clearly organised, and the shorter line, in from Tanga by rail, was opened and brought to our assistance.
This long pause, too, was beneficial to the overstrained troops. Speaking of our own battalion, they were very far through in physique at the time we reached Makindu, and in numerical strength they were, all told, under 200 strong. True, they were “the flower of the flock” in endurance, this remnant of the 1,200 which sailed from England, but even they were withered, and withering, with long fight, on short commons, against unhealthy soul-exhausting climate. Nine officers remain who have gone through all since the beginning, including the doctor, the O.C., and the second-in-command.
UNDER PROLONGED SHELL-FIRE
At Makindu we had our first prolonged experience of shell-fire, for throughout our occupation of this place we were continually shelled by the enemy’s naval guns, and sometimes suffered considerable loss. The enemy’s fire was throughout particularly accurate, as if the camp were directly under observation from some undetected look-out in the high ranges of the Nguru Mountains, on our south-west—which, at some points, had an extreme elevation of some 6,100 feet. It was here seen that the native Africans were very nervous and fearful of shell-fire, and their raw instincts with difficulty stood the strain. It is a trying thing for anyone to wait idly inactive for a shell’s vicious death-dealing on-coming, but it is much more trying to the half-wild senses of a black man than to a white man. We had no artillery with a range sufficient to reach the enemy’s naval guns, so that the only retaliation on our part was accomplished by dropping bombs from our aeroplanes. As soon as the enemy ceased firing, invariably our ’planes went up, and, when over the German positions—cunningly though they were concealed in the bush—bombs were dropped on every likely target. It became amusing when the intention of the opposite foe became clear, this persistent blow for blow “strafe” between the enemy guns and our aircraft.
At Makindu two delayed mails were received, and great was the rejoicing; even though some of the letters were six months old.
It was at Makindu, too, that, one evening, my pet white hen, which had been with me since the fight at Lukigura River, killed a small snake 15 inches long. This I had never seen done before by domestic fowl. She was very timid and wary in pecking at the snake until very sure she had stricken it to death, whereafter, with much exertion, she swallowed it whole as if it were a worm. She is indeed a funny old hen. Still she never gets lost amongst all the confusion of camp life, and each night she comes home, often after roaming far, to roost within a yard or two of me.
RECONNAISSANCE ON ENEMY’S FLANK