by Geoff Lawson
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“How is it you say? For the want of a nail the battle was
lost.”
“And the nail is Orange Free State?”
“Yes,” he said, lapsing into silence. So did I. This bit of
news inevitably meant that if de Wet wanted to stay one step
ahead of Roberts, we would be leaving here pretty soon.
Not long after, Heinrich decided I would be safer if I spent
the day lurking in the ambulance. The Boers were so angry that
some may want to vent their rage on me. It was uncommonly
warm in there but one must do what one must, given the
existing circumstances, so I made myself comfortable as much
as possible and resolved to wait it out. I had plenty of time to
dwell on the progress of the war and the implications for an
escape.
If there was a mad scramble to leave here, opportunities to
do so may present themselves. One thing that did bother me
though, was that Nina hadn’t shown up to claim her plate.
There could be many reasons for this, but I couldn’t stop
myself from worrying. I hoped she wasn’t in trouble because
of her association with me.
That night the Boers held another meeting and decided that
all non-combatants would leave the camp next morning.
British cavalry patrols were already circling in the locality and
in a few more days Roberts would be here in overwhelming
force. The last thing the Boers wanted was another Paardeberg,
so throughout the night the camp was a hive of activity as oxen
were limbered, mules harnessed and stores were packed.
Heinrich left to check on arrangements for his patients, so I
was kicking my heels in the ambulance when there came a
sudden knocking upon the door. Relieved, I swung the door
open, fully expecting to find Nina – instead, I found Johan
threatening me with his rifle. I had not seen Johan to speak to
since Riet River and was taken aback to see him now. He had
two saddled horses with him and seemed to be his usual
aggressive and overstated self.
“You will come with me now!” His voice carried more than
a hint of threat.
“Go with you? Where on earth to?”
“The commando is leaving and you must come with it.”
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“But what about Heinrich? He will surely wonder where I
am.”
“You will meet with him soon enough, but right now you
come with me.”
“But Heinrich hasn’t said anything about this.” I was
starting to become alarmed.
“Heinrich does not decide our affairs!” A dark look flashed
across his face. “We must make sure you do not run off and tell
your English friends what you know.”
“What do you mean?” I spread my arms in mock protest. “I
don’t speak Afrikaans; how would I know what you’d do?”
He eyeballed me and his face became perceptibly angrier.
“Anyway, would it make any difference if I did know?
Your commando is nothing but a pinprick. A fly compared to
an elephant. By now, Roberts has hundreds of guns and
thousands upon thousands of troops. There is nothing you can
do to him that will change anything. Whatever you do, where
ever you go, he will find out soon enough and come for you.”
I must have cut a nerve. Johan’s face went purple.
“Do not argue with me!” In a fit, he pulled off his hat and
threw it on the ground, then with eyes that glared with outrage
he waved the muzzle of his Mauser in my face. “I am not in
the mood for your nonsense, you devious, plundering,
despicable English lackey. You will get on this horse and leave
with me right now – understand that, you miserable shit, or I
will shoot you right here, regardless of the ambulance coat or
not!
Well, that upset me. I was not the least bit prepared for
that. My temper flaring, I pulled off my orderly coat and gave
him a look that made it plain he was about as welcome as
Satan at a gathering of the Apostles, then threw the coat
contemptuously on the ground at his feet. I followed that by
storming around inside the wagon, rummaging about for my
campaign hat and jacket, and took my damn time doing it,
opening cupboards I knew did not contain them, purposely
shifting and lifting things while gustily singing ‘Rule
Britannia,’ over and over. Then I’d close one door and open
another, all the while hoping Heinrich may turn up and put a
stop to this.
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Johan meanwhile, had picked up his hat and muttering
suitably uncomplimentary adjectives concerning my ancestry,
had climbed back on his horse; sitting as rigidly as dignity
would allow. The knuckles of his hands were showing white,
while he returned my withering glares upon each refrain of
Rule Britannia with equally glowering hostility. His eyes
stared up at the heavens when not boring holes in my head in a
vain attempt to block out my singing, no doubt fully aware of
what I was doing and why I was doing it, as indeed, I intended
he would be..
Eventually though, it was evident that stalling wasn’t going
to work any longer and would you know, there was still no
sign of Heinrich, so I slammed the ambulance doors and
stepped down. Johan handed me the reins of the other horse
and I reluctantly swung up into the saddle.
From the very first moment I met him he had been a
churlish, grumpy, verbally bullying pain in the butt, who
seemed to singularly enjoy making threats and waving the
muzzle of his rifle in my face; but now I’d had his bullshit
right up to here. I had no choice but to gag and swallow his
vexatious bile because he was the one with the rifle. However,
if I ever got the chance to make amends, I would make his life
as miserable as the bastard in me possibly could. I was a darn
good hater when I was provoked and if there really was a God,
then so damn help me I would get my revenge.
I was worried though and I don’t mind admitting it. I could
sense that something about this wasn’t quite right. I
instinctively knew that Heinrich had nothing to do with it and
my mind boggled at what the potential implications could be.
Wherever I was going it was not to a prison camp – I would
hardly warrant the escort of an entire commando for that, so
what else could there possibly be?
We heard rumours from time to time that some Boers had
murdered their prisoners. Personally, I had dismissed it as
nonsense, for that was not the action of a Christian people, but
nevertheless, a feeling of deep anxiety began to creep over me.
We joined the tail end of the commando just as it began to
move off and Johan introduced me to a couple of his friends. I
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divined that they were there to keep an eye on me while Johan
disappeared somewhere up ahead.
Other Boers looked at me strangely, obviously surprised to
see me back among them again, but if they were concerned
about it, then they declined to say a
nything. Johan’s two
friends were Ruan and Stefan and Ruan spoke English. I found
it rather curious that there seemed to be a lot of Boers that
could speak some form of English, so I asked him where he
had learnt it.
“I grow up in Cape Colony, which is British of course,
where half of all Afrikaners who live there speak English.
When war is declared I travel to Bloemfontein and join de
Wet.”
Both Ruan and Stefan were young. Ruan looked scarcely
sixteen and was naïve in manner, so I pumped him with
questions in a bid to learn something.
“Where are we going?”
“We patrol,” was all he would say, staring stoically ahead.
“So, if we patrol, then why am I here?”
“You upset Johan,” was the terse response.
“Upset Johan?”
“Yes. You too much friendly with Nina.”
Boy, was I surprised! That was the last thing I expected.
Had I been kidnapped to prevent Nina from seeing me? It was
a shock to realise that this was a possibility. I considered this
for a moment.
“Are Johan and Nina to marry?”
“Ah, no. Not that I know.”
I thought about that as well. “Is Johan Nina’s boyfriend
then?”
“Ah, Johan would like to be.”
What kind of answer was that? “So they know each other
then?”
“Oh yes, Johan loves Nina, but I cannot say if she
reciprocates.”
Well then, this is a fine mess I’m in. It appeared a jealous
admirer had kidnapped me in the mistaken belief that I was
somehow a competitor for Nina’s affections.
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We plodded on throughout the afternoon and I had all the
time in the world to dwell on things. The next big question that
needed answering was what did he plan to do with me? As yet
there was no indicating evidence one way or the other, so then
I had another thought; did de Wet know about this? Somehow,
I didn’t think he did. The rear of the column was a perfect
place to keep me out of sight of anyone who would know that I
was not supposed to be there.
That evening we were setting up camp when who should
come striding along but de Wet himself. Boy, did he ever look
surprised when he saw me! He came striding over to ask me
what I was doing there and I had to answer truthfully that I did
not know.
“Ask them,” I said, pointing to Ruan and Stefan. He turned
on Ruan and Stefan and spoke sharply in Afrikaans.
They squirmed and looked evasive, both acting like there
was a drawing pin stuck in their backsides, while Johan’s name
was mentioned over and over. De Wet then strode away,
looking less than amused. Ruan and Stefan glanced balefully at
one another; the look of chastisement on their faces said it all. I
wouldn’t like to be in Johan’s shoes when de Wet caught up
with him. Then, half an hour later Johan reappeared. His face
was red with embarrassment and he was not in a good mood.
This was my chance for some pay back. I eyeballed him.
“What am I doing here?” His embarrassment increased
immeasurably and he ignored me.
“Tell me what I am doing here.” I yelled this time, my
temper flaring. There was a pause.
“I could not leave you with Nina, so you must come too.”
“Well, this is wonderful. You must have realised that this
little escapade would get you into trouble, did you not?” Other
Boers were looking, no doubt wondering what the fuss was
about.
“Yes, but is worth it – I know you English and your
charming, civilized ways!”
“But I’m really no different to you.”
“But your manners and attentiveness will dazzle Nina and
that cannot be allowed. She is a peasant girl and her head will
be turned.”
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“Oh for goodness sake, we don’t even speak the same
language. You should know that at home I have my own pretty
girl, who loves me and wants me to marry her. I can’t wait to
leave here and make her my wife; so what then, would I do
with Nina?”
There was strained silence. No answer seemed
forthcoming.
“And another thing – what did you plan to do with me?”
His face went redder. “I mean no harm. I would wait until
the right moment and release you to walk back to your English
friends, so I would be rid of you and have nothing to worry on
my conscience.”
He was sullen and wouldn’t meet my eyes. I stopped
harassing him. It suddenly occurred to me that his plan to get
rid of me could fit nicely with my plan to escape and rejoin my
column. Perhaps I should even be pleased with him. I looked
away. After a few minutes I looked him back in the eye and a
softer tone crept into my voice.
“Would you really have shot me if I refused to come?”
He gave a reluctant sigh. “No, of course I would not do
that, but I make you think I would.”
“Okay,” I replied, hesitating, running my hand through my
hair. I hated letting him off the hook, but all these revelations
had altered a few things.
“Let’s begin again then, shall we? Let’s let bygones be
bygones and make the best of this.” I held out my hand. His
features visibly softened. We shook hands.
“No hard feelings from me and good luck with Nina, she is
certainly worth fighting for.”
He gave a fleeting smile. “Thank you,” he mumbled, “you
are a good fellow – for an Englishman.”
That night I lay under my blanket and thought things over.
Johan’s little plan to get rid of me was completely mad and the
actions of someone who was desperate. Reluctantly, I
understood. Nina was charming and all that attention she
poured on Heinrich and me proved she had a good heart. The
very thought of Nina oozing over me must have driven him
mad. Then I thought about Rachel. I remembered the night she
arrived at the bunkroom in her nightdress and threw her arms
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around me. God, how I treasured that memory! I could
understand how Johan felt; there is no doubt that girls
immeasurably brighten our spartan masculine lives.
28th Feb. 1900: Next morning, Ruan and Stefan went off
somewhere and it was just Johan and me, squatting by the fire,
chatting and drinking coffee. He looked relaxed for a change
and I suppose there was no reason why he shouldn’t be; his
secret was out, so he didn’t need to pretend anymore. Along
the way he was going to get rid of me, by one means or
another, so he would be happy about that too.
He was friendly in a way I had not seen in him before; it
seemed I was no longer an enemy of the state, or the object of
his wrath. I was just another young turk like him. He noticed
the NZMR badges on my shoulders.
“What is this NZMR?”
“Oh. That’s short for New Zealand Mounted Rifles. New
Zealand is where I come from.”
; “New Zealand? What part of England or Europe is that?”
“New Zealand is not part of England. It’s not in Europe,
either.”
“So where is this New Zealand then?”
“It is halfway around the world. That way.” I pointed
eastwards. “A long, long way to the east across the great
Southern Ocean. You go past the Indian Ocean, past Australia
and it’s on the other side of the Tasman Sea.”
He seemed to digest that for a minute. He looked puzzled. I
don’t think he had heard of any of those oceans.
“Can you get there by land?”
“No. Unlike you, we are surrounded by water. It takes four
weeks in a ship with a stopover in Australia to re-provision.”
He looked surprised. “Four weeks to cross an ocean!
Sounds a long way to come to fight.”
“That’s the Empire for you. It goes all the way around the
globe, all for one and one for all. They say the sun never sets
on it and my being here is only a small part of that.”
He was silent for a minute. I could sense he had difficulty
comprehending the sheer scope of what I was talking about.
“And what is it like in this New Zealand?”
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“Different to here. Here it is savannah, with a hill here and
there. In New Zealand the hills are everywhere. In some places
it is mountainous and covered with impenetrable forest. All of
it is green and the soil is so rich and moist that almost anything
will grow.”
“Sounds like a paradise. Do you have animals to hunt like
gazelle and hartebok?”
“No, we don’t have lions either. Deer from England have
been released but there’s very few. Mostly, we hunt pigs and
there are thousands of them. In some places they are of plague
proportions and when sheep give birth they sneak up behind,
so they can eat the lambs as they are coming out. The only
defence is to shoot as many of the pests as possible.”
He digested that, then changed tack.
“You know about my girl, so tell me about yours.”
“Her name is Rachel; she is like Nina, except smaller. Her
eyes are like Nina’s but her hair is lighter. She has a grace and
beauty that beguiles me; like Nina, she is irresistible.”
“Ahh,” a grin spread across his face. “We know how to
pick good women, do we not?”
We laughed. We were just two young blokes with the same
outlook on life.
The commando was soon on the move. Sometimes we
travelled north and sometimes west, so I had no idea where we