Forgiven

by Geoff Lawson - BooksGoSocial Historical Fiction

  republics was inevitable.

  257

  “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 anything. 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.”

  262

  “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

  263

  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

  Zeala
nd 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?”

  264

  “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