A Yeoman's Letters Part 14

Home.

England-Fontein April 22nd, 1901.

"We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' 'ome, Our s.h.i.+p is at the sh.o.r.e, An' you must pack your 'aversack, For we won't come back no more."

So from going up to Elandsfontein, which is by Johannesburg, it came to the above cheerful sentiment. And this is how it happened. An order came from somewhere to our doctor, who had of late so hardened his heart, to "invalid convalescents freely," and, to be brief, within a few days nearly every man at Maitland was marked for home, wore a smiling face, and drew warm clothes for the voyage.

The next burning questions were "What boat will it be and when does she sail?" Needless to say, these interrogatories were answered at least thrice a day, and were always wide of the mark. Still, we were booked for home, and could afford to wait cheerfully. Our hut (No. 1), inhabited by the thirty best men in the camp (any man of that hut will tell you this a.s.sertion is correct), thereupon blossomed forth as the publis.h.i.+ng and editorial offices of a camp newspaper known as the

"Latest Developments Gazette,"

with which is incorporated "The Cookhouse News."

In this journal s.h.i.+pping intelligence was a speciality, and topical cartoons a great feature. We claimed the largest circulation in the camp. The various articles, stop-press news, and cartoons, were stuck on the walls of the hut and afforded much entertainment. Of course, B.P. was very unpopular in Cape Town and with us, and had to be dealt with severely. (Note.-Not the Mafeking man or the "worth a guinea a box" lot, but the Bubonic Plague).

A few days before sailing I caught sight of a well-known name in the dread casualty list: "69th Co. I.Y., 16,424, Trooper R. Blake, (severely wounded, since dead). Hartebeestefontein." "Poor Blake!" He used to sing at our concerts on the boat coming out, at our bivouac fire when we indulged in an impromptu sing-song, and at Pretoria, when in the police, he often appeared at the various musical entertainments held in the town or hospitals. His mimicry of a growling or barking dog, big or small, was marvellous and notorious. I remember once how a fellow on one occasion, accustomed to Master Blake's games, on hearing a persistent yapping at his heels, at length said "Oh, shut up, young Blake!" and turned round to see a live terrier there. A verse in the last issue of our paper, expressed, in a humble way, every man's feelings on such matters.

We are leaving them behind us, 'Neath the veldt and by the town, The men who joined and fought with us, Who shared each up and down.

We are going home without them, But our thoughts will on them dwell, We shall often talk about them, Good comrades all, farewell!

The day before we left, the sketches and other matter were sold by auction, it having been previously decided to devote the proceeds of the sale to the last No. 1 Hut annual ball. By way of explanation, it must be noted that the hut had an annual ball once a week, "dancing strictly prohibited." To be explicit, the annual ball was a weekly dinner. The auction was a great success, a real auctioneer presiding, well over 10 being realised.

The farewell dinner was a grand affair and very convivial. To my surprise I was presented with a handsome silver cigarette case by the so-called staff of the "L.D. News" as a token of good will and their appreciation of my humble efforts to relieve the monotony of camp life.

The next day, Friday, March 29th, we embarked on the transport "Aurania," and, as the sun was setting, bade a sarcastic good-bye to Table Mountain.

As regards the voyage home, which was accomplished in three weeks, much might be said, but probably little of particular interest. A transport is not a very luxurious affair for the common soldier, though the accommodation for the officers amply atones for what may be lacking for the ninety-and-nine, as it were. But what on earth, or sea, did it matter, we were going home.

Good Friday was not a success, an officer committed suicide, a sergeant in the Royal Suss.e.x died of dysentery, the engines broke down, and we had no buns. At St. Vincent we stopped two-and-a-half days to coal, and flew the yellow flag at the fore, being in quarantine on account of the Bubonic outbreak at Cape Town. In the Bay of Biscay a Yeoman comrade died of enteric, and was buried two days from home. Friday, the 18th, on a lovely spring morning, the sea being as smooth as gla.s.s, we sighted the cliffs of England once again.

"England, my England."

Then we commenced pa.s.sing s.h.i.+pping; a man at the tiller of a Cornish fis.h.i.+ng boat waving his cap to us made it clear that we were getting back to our real ain folk once more. At eight in the evening we were lying off Netley Hospital, and taking in the proffered advice of a large board in a field by the waterside to eat Quaker Oats, and by twelve o'clock the following night I was home once again.

The treking, the fighting, the guards and pickets, the hospitals are done with now. My small part in the game has been played, and, with a slight and permissible alteration, the concluding lines of a favourite poem must end these simple records.

"But to-day I leave the Army, shall I curse its service then?

G.o.d be thanked, whate'er comes after, I have lived and toiled with men!"[]

BURFIELD & PENNELLS, PRINTERS, HASTINGS.

Footnote 1: Otherwise known as the "Hatherly Distillery," owned by a chameleon millionaire German-Jew, named Sammy Marks. Oh, that fine old Scotch whisky! The labels announcing this un-fact are, I understand, obtained from the Old Country and gummed on the bottles at Hatherly.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 2: That we played a small part in the extensive operations, culminating in what is known as the Battle of Diamond Hill, was only known to most of us four or five months later.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 3: From the first the mixture of cavalry and infantry terms used in connection with the I.Y. has been most amusing. As our officers from this date invariably referred to us in cavalry terms, the words "squadron," "troop," etc., will be used to the end of the volume.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 4: This fine squadron of Yeomanry, under Captain Hodge, had also joined Mahon, at Pretoria, on July 16th.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 5: The hundred-and-fifty rounds of ammunition which always have to be carried by Thomas Atkins.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 6: It was this Vlakfontein which was destined to become notorious in the later history of the war. On the 29th of last May (1901), the 7th Battalion I.Y. lost heavily in a desperate fight at this place. Of the many gallant officers and men killed, all the members of the Battalion, past and present, must specially deplore the death of Surgeon-Captain Welford, one of the kindest and most self-sacrificing of men. Also Captain Armstrong, who joined the Battalion from Strathcona's Horse, as lieutenant, in November last. Lieutenant Pullar, writing to me in reference to the above, recently remarked: "It is the same Vlakfontein where the poor 7th Battalion lost so heavily in May, and I fear there must be many other graves there now."[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 7: For his share in this gallant deed, Ingram was promoted by the C.-in-C. to Corporal. Several of the Devons and Fifes were subsequently mentioned in despatches. Sergeant Pullar was persuaded to accept a commission, as also were Sergeant-Majors Gordon and Cave. All three being excellent soldiers and popular with the men. A Yeoman told me lately, "It was simply splendid the cool way in which Colonel Browne and Sir Elliot Lees superintended the waggons being moved from camp."[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 8: The subsequent adventures of the battalion under General Cunningham and later Dixon and Benson I am, of course, unable to record.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 9: Since my return I have heard from "Scotty," as we used to call him. He wrote from his home in New Zealand, his right arm had been successfully amputated, and he was getting accustomed to its loss.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 10: An officer, for whom I have the highest esteem, whilst kindly conveying to me his very favourable opinion of these "Letters," regretted the inclusion of the following "grouse" in these words: "When I think of many cheery, dirty, ragged, half-starved youngsters I met out there, weighted into an unaccustomed responsibility for men's lives and the safety of their columns, and no more their own masters than you were, bravely trying to do a duty which many of them really loathed, I feel it is hard that a minority of 'rotters' should blacken the good name of the majority."[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 11: I met him again looking much better and in the best of spirits on the Aurania, being invalided home.[Back to Main Text]