About midnight, when we were still persistently working up the channel, which had narrowed considerably, exclamations and low voices drifted to us out of the darkness ahead. In a moment more we knew that we were at our destination, while voices directed us to the landing-place close on our right. It was very dark—so dark that one could at best see a yard or two—so, groping along the boat-bottom, you got near to where a voice said “jump,” and in doing so found yourself immersed to your very knees in deep, holding mud through which, after you had got rifle and equipment clear of the mess, you waded heavily ashore; no longer dry and fairly comfortable, but wet, mud-plastered and chilled, and thoroughly uncomfortable.
On our arrival we learned that, at the landing, a German picket had been alarmed and driven in, and therefore we knew that the enemy command would soon be warned that danger threatened.
Back from the landing there was a long, narrow, level mud-flat, clear of the bush that bordered it blackly on either side, and here our forces formed up as they landed. Finally, when all were accounted for and in position, word was passed round that we were to remain here for an hour or two, and men stretched themselves on the hard tidal-damp ground and shivered; yet slept as only tired soldiers can sleep.
At 3 a.m. we were up and on the move again; slowly marching up the trolley line that led inland, in a southerly direction, toward Mkwaya. Breaking the stillness of a bush-land that apparently lay asleep and without inhabitant, I remember a solitary cock, at some near-by dwelling, crowed clear and full-voiced as we neared Mkwaya; declaring habitations, and promising the coming of dawn. Almost immediately afterwards the first faint shade of daylight was heralded by the boom of artillery from the direction of Mingoyo.
ARTILLERY ENGAGED
Overnight the monitors had moved into the estuary, and it was on H.M.S. Thistle, who had nosed her way far up-stream, that the Germans opened fire. Reply came immediately from the ships, and, as soon as it was full daylight, they were heavily shelling all enemy positions within range. During the action H.M.S. Thistle received one disturbing direct hit, but not a vital one, and she remained seaworthy through the action. Aeroplanes were up all morning busily “spotting” for our guns, and observing enemy movements as best they could in the darkly screened bush.
ZIWANI
Meantime, our turning-point had been reached at Mkwaya, and we now headed westerly in the direction of the Mohambika valley, behind Mingoyo, while the King’s African Rifles, who were an hour or so in advance of us, were now well out on our left flank and moving parallel to us. Some two hours later we had reached the valley crest at Ziwani, and overlooked the Mohambika valley and across to the opposite crest where lay hidden, in the bush and forest, the large native village of Mrweka and Schaadel’s Farm. Large numbers of the enemy were seen, about 1,500 yards distant, moving along the edge of the bush in rear of Mrweka, while smoke-puffs of gun-fire from the enemy artillery could be plainly seen farther down the valley toward Mingoyo. An advance was attempted down into the valley, and action thereafter commenced, but the valley was found to be almost impenetrable—a wide sugar-cane swamp in which the enemy were already located, and which they commanded from the opposite valley crest—and, as the left column were by this time heavily engaged and not making progress, we were ordered, meantime, to dig in on the Ziwani crest while the enemy kept up persistent long-range machine-gun fire on us. Enemy soon appeared to be everywhere on our front and left, for whenever patrols left the ridge and commenced descent into the valley they encountered enemy in force, and were driven in. Finally, the situation culminated when, about 2 p.m., the enemy launched a terrific attack on our left flank and attempted to storm our position. On the left the ground fell away, as in front, and they had crept up the valley side in the grass and bush, until no more than thirty yards from our line—when their fire burst on us like a thunder-clap. From then on one lost all reckoning of time, all reckoning of everything, except that there was something big on that kept every energy alive and working at fever speed. In the end, toward night, we had won, and won handsomely; finally routing the foe from their offensive at the point of the bayonet, and capturing two of the three machine-guns which they had in the line. To add one final trial to this grim encounter, hives of bees had been shot down from the trees during the action, and their inmates descended on us at the end of the day in infuriated swarms to drive us almost crazy with the agony of their stings. They inflicted such punishment that many men could barely see through their half-closed eyelids on the following day, while everyone suffered from cruel yellow-poisoned face scars.
The attack had been a tremendously bold venture on the part of the enemy, who were, for the present, under Von Lettow in person, apparently in large and even superior force in the neighbourhood, and it gives an idea of their strength and desperation, and the gameness of their fighting—which one cannot help but admire. Had we been native troops, the result of such a daring blow might have been different; and even as it was, one looked back and thanked God for one thing—and that was that, even at point-blank range, the enemy’s shooting had been bad, for their deadly sweep of fire was, in general, too high. Had they got the correct elevation, their machine-guns alone were sufficient to deal terrible havoc along our short, hastily and half-entrenched line.
Meantime the column in the bush—wide on our left—had met with opposition that they could not well break through; and no word had come in from the inland column that was operating in the north, which was momentarily expected to converge on to the position across the valley, and relieve the pressure on that side; and so, for the night, there was nothing for it but to hold on where we were.