Our ’71 rifles threw up so much smoke that it was impossible to guard against this. To-day, however, there were no mine-throwers, and the treacherous smoke of our good old rifles was not so bad. On the other hand, when they did hit their target they made a very considerable hole. Our Askari soon realized that to-day they were able to bring their soldierly superiority to bear without being handicapped by inferior weapons. “To-day is the day of the old rifles!” they shouted to the German leaders, and from my hill I soon saw the firing line of Koehl’s detachment storm the enemy’s entrenchments at the double and capture them.
This was the signal for attack on the other fronts also. From all sides they charged the enemy, who was badly shaken by the concentrated fire. Scarcely more than 200 of the enemy force, about 1,000 strong, can have survived. Again and again our Askari troops, in search of booty, threw themselves ruthlessly upon the enemy, who was still firing; in addition, a crowd of bearers and boys, grasping the situation, had quickly run up and were taking their choice of the pots of lard and other supplies, opening cases of jam and throwing them away again when they thought they had found something more attractive in other cases. It was a fearful mêlée. Even the Portuguese Askari already taken prisoner, joined in the plunder of their own stores. There was no alternative but to intervene vigorously. I became very eloquent, and, to make an example, dashed at least seven times at one bearer I knew, but each time he got away and immediately joined in the looting somewhere else. At last I succeeded in restoring discipline.
We buried about 200 enemy dead, and about 150 European prisoners were released after taking an oath not to fight again during this war against Germany or her Allies; several hundred Askari were taken prisoner. Valuable medical stores, so necessary to us, and, as a result of the Portuguese experience of centuries of colonial campaigning, of excellent quality, were captured, as well as several thousand kilos of European supplies, large numbers of rifles, six machine-guns and about thirty horses. Unfortunately we captured no native supplies. Almost half of our force was re-armed this time with Portuguese rifles; and a plentiful supply of ammunition was served out. A quarter of a million rounds of ammunition were captured, and this number was increased in the course of December to nearly a million. From captured dispatches we learned that the Portuguese-European companies had only reached Ngomano a few days before, in order to carry out the impossible English order to prevent a German crossing of the Rovuma. It was really a perfect miracle that these troops should have arrived so opportunely as to make the capture of the place so profitable to us. With one blow we had freed ourselves of a great part of our difficulties.
But yet another serious difficulty arose, which drove us remorselessly on. This was the necessity of procuring food for our large numbers of natives. Accordingly we advanced up the Ludjenda river. Day after day our patrols searched for native guides and supplies. During the next few days, however, they had little success. The natives, never numerous in this district, had fled before the advance of the Portuguese, fearing their ruthlessness and cruelty, and had hidden what stores they possessed. One after another, mules and horses found their way into our stew-pots. Fortunately this district is very rich in game, and the hunter can always shoot one of the numerous antelopes or guinea-fowl.
Though at first our marching columns were too long and straggling, here again practice made perfect. Bearers, boys, women and children, soon learned to keep pace and distance as exactly as the Askari. Regularly and in good order, the expedition wound along the narrow native paths, and even through the thick bush, into the unknown land. Half an hour’s halt was called after every two hours’ march; the rule was six hours’ march a day, i.e., about fifteen to twenty miles, and this was often exceeded. The force was for the most part divided into detachments of three companies, each with one supply train and one field hospital. The advance detachment was a day’s march ahead of the main body, the last a day’s march behind. At the head of each detachment marched the fighting companies with their machine guns; they had with them only the necessary ammunition and medical stores, and each European was allowed one load of necessities. The Askari marched gaily forward, straight as lances, and with their guns reversed over their shoulders, as has always been the custom in the rifle regiments. Lively conversation was kept up, and after the plundering of an enemy camp, which often yielded rich booty, cigarette smoke rose on all sides. The little signal recruits strode bravely forward, half-grown youths in Askari uniform for the most part, carrying all their worldly goods in a bundle on their heads. The Askari would call out their friendly, “Jambo Bwana Obao,” or “Jambo Bwana Generals” (“Good-day, Colonel”), or a little signalman would express his hope of coming some day to Uleia (Europe) and Berlin. “Then the Kaiser will say to me, ‘Good-day, my son,’ and I shall give him an exhibition of signalling. Then he will give me roast meat and present me to the Empress. The Empress will say, ‘Good-day, my child,’ and will give me cakes and show me the shop-windows.” During all their talk the Askari kept a sharp look-out, and no movement in the thick bush escaped their lynx eyes.
The head of the column investigated every trail, and from it gave the number and the distance of the enemy. Equally soldierly were the machine-gun bearers, mostly strapping Waniamwezi and Wazukuma. The companies and detachments were followed by bearers with the loads of supplies, baggage, camp-kit and stretcher cases. The loads, about 25 kg., were carried alternately on the head and shoulders. The endurance of these men is enormous. They became more and more attached to the troops. If ever the supplies were short and the hunting parties unsuccessful, they would say, “Haiswu’b (it doesn’t matter), we wait, get some another time.” Many marched barefoot and often got thorns in their feet. Often one would promptly take his knife and calmly cut out a piece of flesh from the wounded foot. Then he would start off again. The bearers were followed by the women and the Bibi. Many Askari had their wives and children with them in the field, and many children were born during the march. Each woman carried her own Mali (property), as well as that of her lord, on her head. Often they carried on their backs a small child, his woolly head peeping out of the cloth in which he was wound. The women were kept in order and protected by a European or a trustworthy old non-commissioned officer, assisted by a few Askari. They all liked gay colours, and after an important capture, the whole convoy stretching several miles would look like a carnival procession.
Even during the march the obtaining of supplies had to be attended to. Hunting patrols marched ahead of the column or on the flanks in the bush. Often they would remain behind near the old camping sites, where game or traces of game had been observed. Other patrols followed human tracks leading to settlements to requisition supplies. On arriving at the camping-ground, four Askari and my boy Serubiti would cut down branches and erect a frame for the tent sections or for a grass-hut. Sometimes a raised bivouac of branches was arranged and covered with grass. Soon afterwards the bearded Baba, my cook, would arrive and give careful directions for the arrangement of the kitchen. The bearers would come and fetch water, cut grass and firewood with their bush knives. The hunting patrols brought in what they had shot, and soon the smell of cooking rose from the camp-fires on all sides. Meanwhile, parties of bearers had been threshing in the villages, and brought back corn. In the Kinos (thick wooden vessels) the corn was crushed by beating it with thick clubs, the dull thuds sounding far into the bush. Messages, reconnaissance reports, and captured dispatches were brought in; a box in a shady spot served as a desk. During the longer halts a table was built of branches. The evening meal was eaten in company with friends round the camp fire, the boys bringing cases to sit on. The more lordly had deck-chairs. Then to bed under the mosquito-nets, and in the early morning once more into the unknown. Should we find supplies, and could we make what we had last out until we did? These uncertainties cropped up every day afresh, and haunted us week after week and month after month. The eternal marching was, as will be understood, no mere pleasure. At—— I heard some remarks about myself, such as: “Still further? The fellow must come from a family of country postmen!”
When we reached the confluence of the Chiulezi, difficulties of supplies had become so serious, and the district hitherto regarded as fertile had so greatly altered, that I dropped my original intention of keeping the force together. For the moment it seemed impossible, from the tactical point of view also. From the English, who were probably following us, we need not expect any strong pressure, owing to the daily lengthening of their line of communication and the consequent difficulty of bringing up supplies.
A written message from the British Commander-in-Chief, General van Deventer, in which he summoned me to surrender, was brought under protection of the white flag, and strengthened me in my belief that our escape had taken him by surprise, and that our invasion of Portuguese territory had put him at a loss. Neither he nor General Smuts had ever thought of sending a summons to surrender when the situation was favourable to the English. Why should they do so in a situation like the present, or that of September, 1916, at Kissaki, which was undoubtedly favourable to us? Only because they were at their wits’ end. That was indeed not difficult to see through. The time before the setting in of the rainy season, at the end of December, was too short to prepare for a fresh operation, and after the rains had begun the enemy transport of supplies, which depended largely on motors, would be faced with new difficulties.
We had, therefore, plenty of time, and could divide ourselves into several columns without hesitation. We had nothing to fear from temporary loss of touch one with the other. Accordingly General Wahle’s detachment was separated from the rest, and marched through the Mkula mountains, while I marched further up the Ludjenda.