"I have a great admiration and respect for the Germans. I wish to heavens that this country would wake up to the hideous damage, moral and physical, caused by the deification of mere industrialism, of softness and of self-indulgence. National acceptance of the need of hard labour, of facing risk, and of the exercise of foresight is necessary to national greatness. If I must choose between a policy of blood and iron and one of milk and water—especially of skimmed milk and dishwater—why I am for the policy of blood and iron. It is better not only for the nation, but in the end for the world. But my admiration for the Germans does not blind me to the fact that for the last fifty years their development along the lines of policy advocated by Frederick the Great and Bismarck, and so enthusiastically championed by Carlyle, has resulted in their becoming a very grave menace to every nation with which they are brought in contact. I immensely admire German industrial, social, and military efficiency; but I abhor the kind of militarism which has resulted in such cynical contempt for international morality and such appalling ruthlessness in war. I think it folly for a man not to admire the German efficiency; and utter weakness for him not to realize that that efficiency may be used against his own nation and take steps accordingly. I wish I were in the war myself!"
The authorities at home at last resolved to take the East African campaign into their own hands, and in January appointed General Smuts to the command and gave him adequate forces with which to make an advance into German East Africa. Selous' letter to me, February 25th, 1916, brings his narrative up to date.
"My dear Johnny,
"After a long interval we got a mail here yesterday, and it brought me your letter of January 5th. This is the second letter I have received from you, so I think I must have missed one, and it may have gone down in the ill-fated 'Persia,' which had mails for East Africa on board. I have not much news to give you, nor much time to write it, as we are now just getting ready for a move forward. After over five months of hard grinding work in the very hot sun, guarding the line from Voi to near Mombasa, and from Voi to Maktau, on the way to Taveta, and many patrols without any kind of shelter all through the heavy rains of December and January, we were sent up to Kajiado on the Magadi railway, and then on here about a fortnight ago. We are now camped just over the German border, and go on to Longido, 18 miles ahead, very shortly. You will have seen in the papers that General Smith-Dorrien was taken ill in South Africa, and that General Smuts has taken his place as G.O.C. out here. He will, I think, commence the offensive against the Germans immediately, but if the Germans have the forces they are said to have, and if all their native troops remain loyal to them, we shall have a devil of a job. I hear that General Smuts, who arrived in the country a week ago, and has already been to Longido by motor-car, fully realizes that this affair will be a much more difficult business than the South-West Africa campaign. There the Germans had no native troops, and Botha had ten men for every man the Germans could muster. Then the country in German S.W. Africa was much easier to work in than this dense tropical bush, which lends itself at every yard to ambushes and is everywhere very much in favour of the defending forces. Water is a great difficulty here, too, and the greater part of German East Africa between our border and the Dar-es-Salaam, Tanganyika railway, except round Kilimanjaro and other high mountains, seems to be very waterless. There is only one permanent water between Kajiado and this camp, over 50 miles, and the transport animals have to do a trek of over 30 miles without water. However, we have this year had no dry season, for since it commenced to rain in November, it has been raining off and on ever since, not sufficiently to fill the water-holes, but quite enough to make things very uncomfortable, and to keep the grass growing, which I am afraid is all in favour of the Germans, as it makes good cover for their ambushes everywhere. The German officers out here seem to be very fine soldiers, and what people do not realize, their black troops are not only as brave as any Zulus, but splendidly led and well armed and supported with any number of machine-guns. No better men could be found in the whole world, and personally, in this bush-covered, overgrown, but still hot and waterless country, I would much sooner have to fight against Germans from the Fatherland than these well-trained and elusive blacks. If we could only gain some success a lot of them might desert. But all the successes have been on their side up to now (except at Bukoba), and they must be full of confidence. A fortnight ago, just before General Smuts reached this country, an attack was launched against a German position not far from Taveta, by three regiments of South Africans, supported by a regiment of Baluchis and some Rhodesians. The situation was only saved from complete disaster by the Baluchis and the Rhodesians. I enclose a reference to the affair in the Nairobi paper, but it has been very unfortunate, and is a very bad beginning to the new campaign now opening, as it will keep the German black troops loyal to their masters, and fill them with renewed confidence. Smuts' generalship may prove superior to all the difficulties he will have to contend with, but I expect he now realizes that he is up against a much more difficult proposition than he had expected. When we advance from our most forward base—Longido—we are not to carry any kind of tents or shelter from the weather, and as the heavy rains now seem to be setting in (we are having heavy thunder-storms with soaking rain now every day or night) we are likely to have a very bad time, and most of us who are still fit will be sure to go down with fever or dysentery, as the heavy rains may last all through March, April, May, and June. Well! the future is on the knees of the gods, and we must take the luck they send us. Lately we have been practising attacks on positions, advancing in bush formation under General Sheppard, an awfully nice man, who I think will command the brigade to which we are attached. I am now in command of A Company of the 25th Fusiliers, and in all our manœuvres A and B Companies have to lead the advance, so I expect we shall have to do the same when it comes to actually attacking any German position. When we landed at Mombasa on May 4th last our battalion was nearly 1100 strong and there were 273 men in A Company. Now we have lost more than half our officers, and have not more than 400 men fit to march and fight. This is the effect of the climate. In A Company we can muster about 100 fit men, and three officers (myself and two men raised from the ranks). Well! I hope that this accursed war will be over by next August, and I think it will, as by that time Germany will surely be exhausted, as well as some of the Allies. By April, I see it is stated, that the war will be costing us £6,000,000 a day. How long can we stand that? What I cannot understand is, where are our armies of millions of men, and all the stores of munitions we are making and buying from America. We are said to have now 5,000,000 of men well armed and equipped, and yet we do not appear to have more than 1,000,000 in France and Flanders, nor more than 500,000 in Salonika and Egypt together. In Mesopotamia and East Africa, we have only a few hundreds of British troops, all the rest being Indians and South Africans. Well! I hope I shall live through this show, and come home again, as I want to see my wife again, and watch my boys' careers. I believe that Freddy will pass out of Sandhurst this month. I was very pleased to hear that all is so far going well with you and yours. May your boys be spared to you and their mother whatever happens. With very kind regards to all of you."
"OLD MOSCHI,
"ON THE SLOPES OF KILIMANJARO,
"May 2nd, 1916.
"My dear Johnny,
"It is a long time now since I last heard from you, but I trust that all is still going well with you and yours. On the day after to-morrow we shall have been a whole solid year out here, as we landed at Mombasa on May 4th, 1915. Of that year we have been over six months in the low unhealthy bush-country, doing heavy marches in the hottest hours of the day, and lying out on patrols with no shelter or protection whatever from the weather, all through the heavy rains of December and January last. As I never had any fever, diarrhoea or dysentery, but was always well, I did more of this patrol work than any other officer in our battalion, and it meant long marches too, sometimes following small parties of Germans trying to blow up the Uganda railway. In common with all the other white troops serving on foot out here, our battalion has suffered terribly from the climate, and is now almost quite used up. The Loyal North Lancs regiment has been out here eighteen months; but they have had two strong drafts from home to make good their losses. However, they have now been sent or are just about to go to Wynberg, near Cape Town, to recruit, and from there will probably be sent home. Four of our officers and a lot of our men have also been sent there. The Rhodesian regiment which first came out here has also suffered very badly from the climate, and has now been sent to the escarpment near Nairobi to recruit. The South African troops which have only just come out here are also suffering a lot from fever and dysentery, and Van Deventer is said to have lost about 1400 horses (from horse-sickness) out of the 2000 he had six weeks ago. The condition of our battalion is simply lamentable. When we came up from the low country at the end of February to Kajiado (5800 feet above sea-level) Colonel Driscoll tried to collect all his men from the various hospitals and convalescent homes in the country. We had landed at Mombasa on May 4th, 1915, with 1127 rifles, and we mustered at Kajiado about 700 on February 1st, 1916; but of these many were no longer of any use for marching in the hot sun. From Kajiado we went to Longido, and were incorporated with Colonel Stewart's Brigade, which had to march right round Kilimanjaro, and meet General Smuts' much larger force at Moschi. As far as our Brigade was concerned only 449 of the 691 who had left Kajiado were found to be fit enough for the heavy marching in front of us. Starting from Longido late in the morning of March 5th, we marched 9 miles under a very hot sun to Sheep Hill. There was there no shelter from the sun, and we passed a very unpleasant day. We were told to rest and sleep, as we had a long night-march of 20 miles before us. We marched all night long except from 12 to 2 a.m., and did not get to the water until after midday the next day, and the distance registered in General Stewart's motor-car was 30 miles instead of 20. We had other very long marches in the very hot sun, in choking clouds of fine lava-dust, churned up by the heavy transport. The Germans had prepared to dispute our advance along the main road from Longido to New Moschi, which passes N'gara Nairobi. But under the guidance of a Boer settler in German East Africa, named Pretorius, we left the road soon after leaving Sheep Hill and travelled across country to Boma N'gombi, 15 miles from New Moschi (the railway terminus), on the road to Aruscha. The Germans, whose main forces were trying to hold back Smuts' big columns advancing on Taveta, apparently had not sufficient forces to come out and attack General Stewart's column, so we got through with nothing more than a little sniping. Arrived at Boma N'gombi, we got into communication with General Smuts through our wireless, and General Stewart was ordered to send a picked force by a forced march to join up with one of his forces at Masai Kraal, and then advance together to New Moschi. About half of our 449 men (many of whom were now badly knocked up) were considered fit for this advance and I led 55 men of my A Company, the 55 fittest men of the 282 of A Company who had stepped ashore at Mombasa less than a year before. The night we left Boma N'gombi heavy rain came on and we marched in rain and mud and pitch darkness for many miles along an old abandoned waggon-road. Before daylight we joined up with some mounted scouts, who informed us that the Germans had evacuated New Moschi and gone off down the railway, and that South African troops had occupied both New Moschi and Old Moschi (where I am now writing on the slopes of Kilimanjaro and six miles by road from New Moschi in the plain below us). The day after we got to New Moschi, we were sent off with part of General Stewart's Brigade, under Colonel (now Brigadier-General Sheppard) to co-operate with the S. African forces against the Germans, who had retired from Taveta towards the Ruwu river. A night march of 16 miles brought us to Newi Hill on the road to Taveta, and after a march of a few miles the next afternoon we got in touch with the E.A.M.R., and shortly afterwards a few German snipers. We pushed them back and then entrenched as well as we could. That night they sniped us a bit, but did no harm. The bush was very thick all round our camp, but it was nearly full moon. We heard the attack on one of the S.A. Brigades to our left, and also the heavy German gun (a 4.1 naval gun from the 'Königsberg') firing both at this brigade and at Van Deventer's Brigade, which had advanced down the railway line from New Moschi to Kahi station. These brigades, I believe, ought to have got in touch with us, but they did not do so. During March 20th we improved our trenches and prepared for a night attack, which in fact started at 8.45 and was kept up till 1 a.m. The black troops, under German officers, behaved very pluckily, and time after time answered the bugle call to advance on our camp. Our Maxims kept them off. Fortunately they had no machine-guns with them, and though they fired thousands of shots at our camp they did very little damage, as almost all the bullets went pinging over us. Soon after 1 a.m. we heard their bugle sounding the 'assemble' and they drew off. In the morning the dead just in front of our machine-gun commanding the road were collected and laid out in a row—like pheasants or hares after a drive—but the bush was not searched for the rest of the dead, as we had to push on and attack the Germans who were entrenched across the road a few miles on ahead on the Soko river. They held us off all day, and we had about 200 casualties, as the South African Brigades on our right and left which were to have enveloped them could not or did not come up. The men of our battalion (about 50 of each of our 4 companies) were in reserve, but late in the afternoon A, C, and D Companies had to go forward to support an Indian regiment. I was in command of my 50 men of A Company. We really could do nothing but lie very flat, trying to dig ourselves in with bayonets and fingers, being under the sweeping fire of three or four machine-guns. The lie of the ground just saved us when lying flat, and the bullets just swept over us in bouquets. We only had 17 casualties, and only 2 men killed dead. So far our battalion has not had much fighting, but we have gone through much hardship, fatigue, and exposure. You will wonder how I have stood it all at my age. But the fact remains that from May 4th, 1915, to February 6th, 1916, I never took leave or a day's rest, and was never a single day off duty or away from my company. From February 6th to the 12th I had to lie up, as I had jiggers in one of my toes, and the inflammation went to my groin. Since then I have never been a day away from my company again up till to-day, and have never put my leg over a horse, but done all the marching with the men, carrying my rifle, 50 or 60 rounds of ammunition, water-bottle, glasses and haversack with food—at least 20 lbs. altogether. But the men have usually had to carry 150 rounds of ammunition. Still, considering that I shall be sixty-five at the end of this year I have stuck it out remarkably well, and am one of the very few in the battalion who has never yet had a day's illness, for inflammation caused by jiggers cannot be called illness. But now I am beginning to be troubled with hæmorrhoids and another trouble. I have kept this in check out here for a whole year with astringent ointment, but during the last month it has got much worse and it may oblige me to come home on leave for an operation. The wet and damp of the last month here may have had something to do with the aggravation of my trouble.
"General Smuts was very lucky. He was just given time to carry out his operations round Kilimanjaro and drove the Germans down the line towards Tanga before the rain set in. We have been up here (about 300 men, of whom 100 have been in hospital and a lot more ill in camp, as the hospital is full) for nearly a month and it has rained almost day and night all the time, and we have lived in a sea of vile sticky mud. One of our officers as near as possible died of dysentery, but he is now much better. We—both officers and men—have had nothing but bare army rations since leaving Longido on March 5th last. However, we are now leaving this place, and going to M'buyuni, near Maktau, on the Voi-Taveta Railway, as the railway is now through to New Moschi—but from Taveta to Moschi it is very uncertain, as the heavy rains keep washing parts of the line away. The Germans blew up their naval 4.1 gun at the Ruwu river after firing all the 70 rounds at our camp and the two S.A. Brigades. They put the shells very close to our camp but did not hit it, but they dropped one amongst Van Deventer's men and killed five or six men and horses. After the fighting at the Soko and round Kahe on March 20th and 21st, the Germans retired down the Tanga Railway, and are said to be entrenching at various places. Nothing further can be done on our side until the rains are over, as all transport of a railway line is now almost impossible. Horses, mules, and men are all suffering terribly from the climate, and diseases of man and beast, and the frightful thick bush will help the Germans very much if they intend to fight on till the bitter end. Van Deventer has had a fresh lot of horses sent to him, and is now near the main German Railway from Dar-es-Salaam to Lake Tanganyika. The Belgians ought, too, soon to be co-operating from the Congo. We have just got the terribly bad news of General Townshend's surrender to the Turks in Mesopotamia, and the outbreak in Ireland. My son Freddy passed out of Sandhurst on April 6th and is, I expect, now attached to the Royal West Surrey regiment. The Commandant at Sandhurst has written to my wife speaking in very high terms of praise about him; but, alas, I may never see him alive again if this accursed war goes on much longer. And you and poor Mrs. Millais must now be most anxious about your eldest boy too. Well! of course their country comes first for them and for us, and we must all try and do our duty, but it will break our wives' hearts if either of them loses her boy, and it will take all the joy of life out of us too. Well! I have written you an unconscionably long letter, but it has hardly ever stopped raining now for more than an hour or so at a time for two days and nights, and we are enveloped in thick mist, and there is nothing to do but read and write. The weather gets worse and worse, that is the rain gets more incessant. Everything is saturated with moisture, and my blankets seem quite wet when I get into them at night. It is the constant unending wet and damp I think that gets to the men's stomachs and bowels and gives them dysentery. The slopes of Kilimanjaro may be a health resort in the dry season, but they are not much of a place to live in during the heavy rains. And the natives say that the rains will go on until the middle or end of June. Well! once more good-bye, old fellow, and with very kind regards to Mrs. Millais and your children, and trusting that all is well with all of them."
"May 4th, 1916.