A West Pointer with the Boers /

by John Y. Fillmore Blake

We waited about for two more nights, and then decided to move out and cross the line right by the station. We started very early, in order to be ahead of the moon. We reached the line and just as we were crossing it, the moon begun to peep above the horizon. We could plainly see the Tommies sitting by their fires, smoking their pipes and enjoying themselves. We were not out of danger, by any means, for should we be discovered, the armored train would run up and easily sweep us off with the maxims.

Half a mile in front of us was a bad creek to cross, and there we expected trouble. On reaching it, we found it well protected with barbed wire, but this was soon cut, and we were safe on the north side of the line. We did not go far before we unsaddled, slept a few hours, and then rode on towards Rhinoster Kop. On the night of the second day, we camped in the bush about twenty miles north-east of Pretoria, and not far from the Pietersburg railway line. On reconnoitring, the line was found so well guarded with armed Kaffirs that it was thought unwise to try to take in a train.

Major Wolmorans then turned his attention to some cattle near the Hatherly Distillery, which is on the Pretoria-Delagoa railway line. He went in with about thirty men, spent the night in rain, and received a sweeping fire from an armored train which was near at hand. No one knows how any one escaped, but not one was touched. On their return next morning, they presented a very sorry looking appearance. We went back a few miles and camped at Zusters Hoek.

This little escapade stirred up the English and three columns promptly showed up. Commandant Groenewald with 200 men, and Jack Hindon with sixty men joined with us and drove one of the columns back close to Pretoria. They then returned to their camps near Rhinoster Kop and we were again alone and camped at Zusters Hoek. The other two English columns were still near Balmoral.

On the following day, we could see the English scouts on a hill about five miles away, between us and Pretoria. Major Pretorius and I were sure that an attack was intended that night, and we tried to get Major Wolmorans to move away. But he wouldn't. We told him that we were going to a good kopje a short distance off, in the early morning, because we did not care to be surrounded and captured. He said all right; so at daylight we went to the kopje, but the English did not come. They were still on that same hill.

We remained where we were during the day, and Major Wolmorans remained where he was. Night came and the men went to Major Wolmorans and asked him to move to the kopje where Major Pretorius and I were. He told them that there was no danger, and that he would stay where he was.

At daylight the following morning we were aroused by the singing of maxims in the direction of Major Wolmoran's camp. About 700 cavalry had him three-quarters surrounded, all firing, as well as four maxims which clattered continually. The artillery boys ran for their horses, some saddled, others had no time, and some couldn't get their horses at all. Here they came towards us in the wildest disorder, Major Wolmorans with them. The English, whooping and yelling, followed in hot pursuit, and a race under whip and spur for four miles followed. The English lost, and all the artillery boys escaped except twenty-six, who were captured in the camp. This long race caused the remaining thirty-seven men to scatter so that it was a week before they all got together. Half of them were without blankets, saddles and cooking utensils, and be assured they were a dilapidated, disgusted looking lot of men. Major Wolmorans, too, had lost all he had, and Major Pretorius and I had lost nothing.

We now set out to return to the high veldt, where we arrived early in November, because we had no trouble whatever passing blockhouses and railway lines. Among our captured was Mick Ryan and a little Frenchman by the name of Regal, and I felt sure they would be shot. Strange to say, two men, supposed to be Ryan and Regal, were shot on October 29th, three days after the capture. The two unfortunates were young burghers who talked English. I must here state that towards the end of the war, all those who spoke English and were captured were almost sure to be shot.

The Australians and Canadians murdered many men after they had surrendered, and I have heard them boast about it in Pretoria after peace was made. They were the most thorough bred ruffians that ever put their feet on South African soil, and had the Boers known during the war what they learned after the war, about the many innocent men murdered in cold blood, I am sure that at least half of the Canadian and Australian contingents would have been shot, for at least that many had been captured. The Boers always treated them as soldiers and gentlemen, and on releasing them would always wish them better luck next time.

Near Pietersburg lived some Boers, two or three, and they were supposed to have money. Of course, they were "Hands-uppers," having voluntarily gone in and surrendered their guns. With them was a German missionary and one English soldier, a visitor. Major Morand and Lieutenant Hancock, two Australian officers, went to this farm with the intent of robbing the Boers, not knowing that there was an English soldier there. On making their demand, the Boers protested and were at once shot down. The German missionary showed himself, and of course Major Morand had to shoot him, too. In the house was also this English soldier, and to close his mouth they shot him, too. A Kaffir was at the place, and told the officers at Pietersburg. Major Morand and Lieutenant Hancock knew nothing about the Kaffir, for they had not seen him, so they proceeded to rob the house and their dead victims. On returning to Pietersburg, both were arrested and charged with murder. They were tried and shot "for murdering Boers," nothing being said about a German missionary and English soldier. The fact is, they were both shot for murdering the English soldier, and for no other reason. Had not the proper authorities shot them, the soldiers would have taken the law in their hands and done the work. It does seem that the English can do nothing without resorting to deception or lying, and in this they easily excel the whole civilized world. Any British officer or soldier who could prove that he had murdered more Boers than any other man in the army, would be certain to receive the Victoria Cross.