My Reminiscences of East Africa

by Paul Emil von Lettow-Vorbeck

Fig. xi. Invasion of German East Africa by Belgian and British columns, middle of 1916. Fig. xii. Retreat of German Main Force, August, 1916.

The rain came down harder and harder, and the roads became deeper and deeper. At first there were only a few bad places, and twenty or more carriers managed to get us through them by pulling and pushing. The niempara (headmen of carriers) went ahead, dancing and singing. The whole crowd joined in with “Amsigo,” and “Kabubi, kabubi,” and to the rhythm of these chants the work went on cheerily, and at first easily enough. But on passing through Tulieni we found that the rains had so swollen an otherwise quite shallow river, that during the morning its torrential waters had completely carried away the wagon bridge. We felled one of the big trees on the bank, but it was not tall enough for its branches to form a firm holdfast on the far side. It was three feet thick, but was carried away like a match. The Adjutant, Lieutenant Mueller, tried to swim across, but was also swept away, and landed again on the near bank. Now Captain Tafel tried, who had recovered from his severe wound, and was now in charge of the operations section at Headquarters. He reached the far side, and a few natives who were good swimmers also succeeded in doing so. But we could not manage to get a line across by swimming, and so there we were, Captain Tafel without any clothes on the far side, and we on this one. The prospect of having to wait for the river to fall was not enticing, for I could not afford to waste one minute in reaching the head of the marching troops. At last, late in the afternoon, a native said he knew of a ford a little lower down. Even there it was not altogether a simple matter to wade across, and took at least three-quarters of an hour; we had to follow our guide carefully by a very devious route, and work cautiously on from one shallow to the next. The water reached our shoulders, and the current was so strong that we needed all our strength to avoid falling. At last, in the dark, and with our clothes thoroughly wet, we reached the far side, where we were met by three mules and an escort of Askari sent back by a detachment which we had luckily been able to reach by telephone.

We continued our journey the whole night through in pouring rain, and had several times to ride for hours at a time with the water up to our saddles, or to wade with it up to our necks; but at last, still in the night, we reached the great bridge over the Wami, which had been put up during the war. That, too, was almost entirely carried away, but part was left, so that we were able to clamber across and reach the light railway leading to Kimamba Station. This line, like that from Mombo to Handeni, had been constructed during the war and was worked by man-power. In their endeavour to do the job really well, the good people took several curves rather too fast, and the trucks, with everything on them—including us—repeatedly flew off into the ditch alongside, or beyond it. At any rate, we had had enough and to spare of this journey by water by the time we arrived in the early morning at Kimamba. Vice-Sergeant-Major[4] Rehfeld, who was stationed there and had been called to the Colours, received us most kindly. As there was a clothing depot at Kimamba, we were, at any rate, able to obtain Askari clothing to change into. When the remainder of Headquarters would turn up with our kits it was, of course, impossible to say.

After discussing the situation with the Governor, who had come to Kimamba for the purpose, I went next day to Dodoma. On the Central Railway, quick working under war conditions, which in the north had become everyone’s second nature, had hardly been heard of. Captain von Kornatzky’s detachment, which had arrived at Dodoma shortly before us, had some difficulty in obtaining supplies, although Dodoma was on the railway, and could be supplied quickly. I got in touch by telephone with Captain Klinghardt, who had occupied the heights of Burungi, one day’s march south of Kondoa-Irangi, and on the next morning, with a few officers of Headquarters, I rode off to see him. The road lay through uninhabited bush-desert; it had been made during the war, its trace was governed by the need for easy construction, and it touched settlements but seldom. The Ugogo country is distinguished for its great wealth of cattle. The inhabitants belong to the nomad tribes, who copy the customs of the Masai, and are, therefore, often called Masai-apes. We met many ox-wagons in which German and Boer farmers, with their families, were driving from the country around Meru Mountain to Kondoa. It was a scene, so well known in South-West Africa, of comfortable “trekking,” in these vehicles so eminently suited to the conditions of the veld.

The supply service of Klinghardt’s Detachment was not yet in working order; we camped that night in the first of the small posts on the line of communication. It was evident that the work of transport and supply would have to be greatly increased if it was to maintain the large number of troops now being pushed forward in the direction of Kondoa-Irangi. There was another difficulty: up to date the various Field Intendants had not been physically equal to the enormous demands which the whole field of the work of maintenance made upon the head of the service. Captain Schmid, of the Landwehr, had very soon been succeeded by Captain Feilke, of the Landwehr, he again by Captain Freiherr von Ledebur, of the Reserve, and this officer by Captain Richter, retired, an elderly gentleman. The latter, unfortunately, had just now, at the commencement of an important fresh operation, reached the limit of his strength. Major Stuemer, retired, who had been working on the line of communication at Handeni, had been obliged to take over his duties, but had not yet had time to become thoroughly at home in them.

By the evening of the following day we had completed our journey of four marches, and reached Captain Klinghardt at the Burungi Mountains. The detachments coming from the country of the Northern Railway were following on behind us, and some days were bound to elapse before they would all have arrived; so we had the opportunity of making extensive reconnaissances. Here we had the great good fortune to make the acquaintance of a perfectly new and excellent map. The District Commissioner of Kondoa-Irangi had, when leaving his district, given it with other things to a yumbe (chief), who lived on the Burungi Mountains, to take care of. It was in his possession that we found this valuable property, the secrecy of which had thus remained intact.

Patrols of mounted English Europeans often came near our positions, and it was known that stronger mounted forces were behind them. But where they were was not known. Some reports stated that they were in Kondoa-Irangi; others said south of that place, and others again placed them on the road leading from Kondoa-Irangi to Saranda. An important factor was that there were considerable native plantations at Burungi, so that supplies were plentiful. It was, therefore, not necessary to wait until the transport of supplies from Dodoma was in full swing. The troops were more independent of the line of communication than hitherto, and could draw the bulk of their subsistence from the country. As soon as the rear detachments had closed up the advance on Kondoa was started. South of that place we met only fairly strong mounted protective detachments, who were quickly driven back, and at the beginning of May, without any serious fighting, we obtained possession of the great heights which lie four miles in front of Kondoa village.

We had brought with us two naval guns, one 3·5-inch and one 4-inch, on travelling carriages, and at once got them into action. From our dominating position they bombarded, apparently with good effect, the enemy’s camps south of Kondoa. The tents were at once struck. We could see the enemy hard at work entrenching his positions, and his vehicles hurrying away towards Kondoa. Several patrol encounters went in our favour, and small hostile posts, that had been left out in various places, were quickly driven in. From the south—that is, from behind us—we saw a mounted patrol riding towards our positions. As our mounted patrols were also out, I thought at first that they were Germans. But soon the regular carriage of their carbines in the buckets proved that they were English. They evidently had no idea of our presence. They were allowed to approach quite close, and at the short range they lost about half their number. From what we had hitherto observed, it seemed probable that the enemy in our front was evacuating his positions. On the 9th May, 1916, I decided, if this expectation proved correct, immediately to take possession of the low hills now held by the enemy. The conditions did not favour an attack, as our advance was sure to be observed, and a surprise assault was out of the question. But without surprise the attempt to capture the occupied position by assault had no hope of success; the enemy was sufficiently entrenched on the small hills, and the latter completely commanded the ground over which the attack would have to be pushed home, and which could only be traversed slowly owing to the low thorn-bush and the numerous rocks.