Spangenberg’s detachment, which was on ahead, had to be told as soon as possible, and I immediately set out on my bicycle after it, taking with me Haouter, a Landsturm soldier, as my sole companion. About half-way, Reissmann’s cyclist patrol of Spangenberg’s detachment met me and reported that Captain Spangenberg had arrived at the Chambezi. Although I had no doubts about the correctness of the English news, our position was very uncomfortable. We were in a district where there was little food, and were therefore compelled to move on from place to place. This circumstance had already compelled us to reconnoitre and secure for ourselves the crossings of the Chambezi. If hostilities were resumed we must be certain of a safe crossing. This was a burning question, as the rainy season, meaning a great rise of this river, was near at hand. We had already encountered heavy storms. I had, therefore, much to discuss with Captain Spangenberg and the English officer who would presumably be on the far bank of the river. In any case we must continue to devote our energies to buying or getting food. Full of that idea, I sent my companion back and cycled myself with Reissmann’s patrol to Spangenberg’s detachment.
We arrived about eight o’clock, when it was quite dark. Captain Spangenberg was away on a reconnaissance, but Assistant-Paymaster Dohmen and other Europeans looked after me well as soon as they learnt of my arrival. I was able to convince myself that the supply depot of Kasama really existed. I tasted jam and other good things which had been unknown to me hitherto.
When Captain Spangenberg came back he told me that he had already heard of the armistice through the English. After I had gone to bed in his tent, he brought me about midnight a telegram from General Deventer which had been brought in by the English. It had come from Salisbury. It stated that Germany had accepted the unconditional handing-over of all troops operating in East Africa. Deventer added that he demanded the immediate surrender of all our English prisoners of war, and that we should march to Abercorn. All our arms and ammunition were to be given up at Abercorn, but our Europeans were to be allowed to keep their weapons.
The full text of the telegram ran as follows:
“13. 11. 18. To Norforce. Karwunfor via Fife.
“Send following to Colonel von Lettow Vorbeck under white flag: War Office London telegraphs that clause seventeen of the armistice signed by the German Govt. provides for unconditional surrender of all German forces operating in East Africa within one month from Nov. 11th.
“My conditions are. First: hand over all allied prisoners in your hands, Europeans and natives to the nearest body of British troops forthwith. Second: that you bring your forces to Abercorn without delay, as Abercorn is the nearest place at which I can supply you with food. Third: that you hand over all arms and ammunition to my representative at Abercorn. I will, however, allow you and your officers and European ranks to retain their personal weapons for the present in consideration of the gallant fight you have made, provided that you bring your force to Abercorn without delay. Arrangements will be made at Abercorn to send all Germans to Morogoro and to repatriate German Askari. Kindly send an early answer, giving probable date of arrival at Abercorn and numbers of German officers and men, Askari and followers.”
This was news enough if it were confirmed, and showed the desperate situation of the Fatherland. Nothing else could account for the surrender of a force still maintaining itself proudly and victoriously in the field.
Without being in a position to examine the ground in detail, I had to tell myself that the conditions imposed upon us were inevitable, and must be loyally carried out. I met the British Commissioner, who had come from Kasama to the Chambezi rubber factory, at the river at eight o’clock on the morning of the 14th. There I handed to him a telegram to His Majesty, in which I reported what had happened and added that I would act accordingly. The Commissioner told me that the German fleet had revolted, and that a revolution had also broken out in Germany; further, if he was to accept a report which was official but had not yet been confirmed, the Kaiser had abdicated on November 10th. All this news seemed to me very improbable, and I did not believe it until it was confirmed on my way home months later.
All our troops, native as well as Europeans, had always held the conviction that Germany could not be beaten in this war, and were resolved to fight on to the last. Of course it was doubtful whether our resources would last out if the war lasted several years more, but we faced all possibilities tranquilly for at least another year. The men were well armed, equipped and fed, and the strategic situation at the moment was more favourable than it had been for a long time. The Askari, it is true, saw that our numbers were dwindling—we were still 155 Europeans, comprising 30 officers, medical officers and higher officials, 1,168 Askari, and about 3,000 other natives—but whenever I discussed this topic with one of my orderlies he always assured me: “I will always stick by you and fight on till I fall.” Many others spoke to the same effect, and I am convinced that it was not merely a case of empty words.