All was soon ready for the start. It was a lovely evening, the moon shone brightly, and the 1200 horsemen rode out, the cannon clattering as they went.
I had to spend the night in the laager. Next morning I went home to wait there anxiously for what was to happen. That day I heard nothing. Next day there was a report that some prisoners of war had been brought by train to Kraaipan, and no one on our side was hurt in this first fight. A day or two later I returned to the laager, which had been moved some distance farther back.
There I found all of good cheer and courage. The same day an order came to trek for Kimberley, and I went on for two days with the laager, in which were many odd sights. When I had to return I felt it hard that all my people must go so far away. That afternoon it had been warm near the waggon, and my dear son had taken on himself to prepare our dinner. We ate it there all together, and Field-Cornet H. Coetzee, who was with us, said he must learn from my son how to make such good things to eat. My son had done it very well, though it was the first time that he had ever tried to act as cook.
We then took up our journey again. It was curious to me to see so many horsemen. That night I had to return; my husband came a little way with me and the laager trekked on.
I had now to take leave of my two sons, who were going with the laager. My heart was torn, for I did not know if I should see them again.
But time was passing; they had to go on, and I to go back; the waggons must be inspanned and the horses saddled.
Then I said to my two sons, “Adrian and Jacobus, let your ways be in the fear of the Lord. If I do not see you again upon earth, let me find you again in heaven.” And my beloved Adrian, when I said these words, looked at me.
We went to spend the night at Mr Du Toit’s house, where we had a welcome rest. Next morning my husband went back to the laager and I returned home, where I found all well. We kept hearing always of fighting. The commando trekked to Freiburg, and from there to Kimberley. I had a telegram saying that my husband had gone to the Modder River, and I thought of the dangerous work that he had to do. Then he had to go farther and farther away. News came of the fight at Rooilaagte; it was terrible to hear how many “khakis” had been there and how hard our men had had to fight. There were many from the Lichtenburg district among them, so that everyone was anxious.
Sunday, the 26th of December, was the nineteenth birthday of my son Adrian Johannes. When I went to the village in the morning I met my sisters on their way to church. Then we all began to speak of him and of how he would fare on his birthday; and we all grew heavy-hearted.
On Monday we were without news. On Tuesday evening a telegram came that all was well, which filled me with joy. Yet that night I sat on my bed, and could not sleep for anxiety and sorrow till I had earnestly begged of the Lord to make me fit to bear the burden He should lay upon me, and to let me sleep.