1 January 1915
Generalstabshauptmann Weck and Scultetus came from Windhoek to Goanikontes with twenty-three men. At five that afternoon thirty-seven of us rode off towards Walvis Bay. There were three Baster soldiers riding with us as grooms, but they were troublesome. As I did not trust the rascals, we left them behind (at my suggestion). The Basters of Rehoboth had very recently declared solidarity with our enemies and rebelled against us. At ten o’clock at night, we grouped in front of the ‘Schwarzen Klippen’, behind the dunes, and since the English had not yet occupied the area, we stayed there overnight, with sentries posted on all sides.
2 January 1915
After discovering that there were still no enemy troops visible, we rode in loose battle formation towards the highest dune, taking it at a sharp gallop. Hauptmann Wecke, Scultetus and I climbed the steep sandbank and were rewarded with a wonderful view over the hustle and bustle in Walvis Bay, which lay ahead of us, about three hundred metres away. There were many steamers and a battle-cruiser in the harbour, a host of tents, magazines, horses, seven tugs continuously landing troops—and sentries everywhere. By 7am we had seen everything we wanted, and rode back to Nonidas, where we watered the horses, and back to camp by midday.
3 January 1915
The English cruiser went to Swakopmund overnight; after it had left, we rode into Swakopmund; Hauptmann Weck wanted to visit in order to inspect the damage caused by the bombardment to the bridge, power station and waterworks. We also laid mines. We came back to Rössing, arriving at about 7pm; and then after long discussions over a communal meal I had a wonderful rest: sleeping like a lord in the saloon car of a director of the railway, who was there by chance.
4 January 1915
I rode with my men back to Goanikontes at 7am. A company to man the forward posts was formed under the command of Hauptmann Scultetus using men from the 2nd Reserve Company and the coastal defence unit, with Hauptmann von Bennigsen coming to the Karibib district. At three o’clock that afternoon I rode with Scultetus to look for a suitable position to base the company, climbing over every mountain until we found a suitable place on the banks of the Swakop.
5 January 1915
At 8am the entire company came to Goanikontes. Immediately after watering the horses, I led them to the new camp.
6 January 1915
I went out with the Hauptmann, looking for a way through the cliffs which could give us an escape route from the new position in case of attack, a path which we could then make bigger.
7-12 January 1915
Extension and furnishing of the camp, fixing it up, splitting the company into squads, setting sentries, carrying out patrols. Reports from Rooibank that Australians were patrolling there.
12 January 1915
Scultetus, von Milkau and I rode with a column to Schwarzen Klippen, arriving at 10pm. While checking on the sentries overnight, I found two fast asleep; I immediately arrested them and sent them for trial in Windhoek.
13 January 1915
Left before daybreak to the great dune, stayed there observing until 8am and then back across to Goanikontes with all speed.
14 January 1915
News came early that the British were proceeding along the beach from Walvis Bay. Large numbers of troops came to Swakopmund, and Woker[66] detonated three mines; we laid them at the mouth of the Swakop River, and he set them off from inside an old piano packing-case buried in the dunes. Apparently the Tommies are in a bad way now. At the time, the small number of guards at the lighthouse captured nine splendid officers’ horses, complete with saddles, whose riders had probably separated themselves involuntarily. Woker (an officer of the Wörmann Line), who had been part of the coastal defence unit, detonated one mine after the other, very carefully and calmly. In the ensuing chaos he then climbed out of his packing-case, hid until nightfall in the bushes growing in the Swakop, and arrived at the eight kilometre point[67] at 2pm. He estimated the enemy’s losses from the mines at about fifty men.
Immediately after receiving the report, Scultetus rode with the second and third columns beyond the eight-kilometre line, and stayed there the following day. I was in the camp in a condition of high alert with the rest of the company. There were reports of seven hundred to eight hundred men in Swakopmund, a main camp built between the church and school, sentry posts put around the place up to four kilometres radius, and large wire structures erected.
16-19 January 1915
The usual patrols and keeping watch.
20 January 1915
Scultetus, Venuleth and von Milkau and sixteen men went with me and my men to Felseneck. The three of them went on in the afternoon with their sixteen men eastward to Nonidas, and I followed with my men at seven o’clock that evening.
21 January 1915
At two o’clock in the morning we went a further three kilometres on, to a farmhouse and small hen-house on the banks of the Swakop that belonged to Fisker, the customs officer. The English used it during the day as a sentry post, and we wanted to have a go at playing an English sentry. Scultetus and von Milkau occupied the sniper’s house and the hen-house, and I went with my men to the other side of the Swakop behind a high dune, from where there was a good view. At six in the morning the English field guard, arrived on horseback: one officer and twenty men. They halted in the riverbed about one hundred metres below the house, and sent one man forward as advance guard. He rode up towards our position, looking around in every direction, and then dismounted and began climbing the narrow path from the river to the farmhouse.
The first shot from Scultetus was the signal to open fire, and the ensuing gunfire on the retreating guard from the occupants of the house brought down six men. At the first shot, I galloped across the riverbed, and when I arrived at the high wall in front of the house, the English scout tumbled helter-skelter down the path and collapsed to the ground in front of my horse. When I jumped down from my horse the soldier rose with his hands up. Surprised, I called out “Hallo! I thought you were killed!” whereupon he answered, horrified, “God damn it, you think I’m going to be killed for three shillings a day?”
We had captured four good horses and our first prisoner, whom I immediately sent back with two men to the agreed collection point, a few kilometers upriver. The rest of the guards had gone back to Swakopmund. Scultetus and I rode towards Swakopmund with my platoon laid out in an extended skirmish-line, until we were within range of the machine-guns mounted in the water-towers; then came the order ‘turn back’, and we rode away at a gentle trot.
Suddenly we saw two cavalry companies riding out of Swakopmund in close formation; Scultetus declared that it might be impertinent for our thirty men to attack two companies of cavalry (two hundred men). Next, he ordered “Towards the enemy, at the gallop!” This caused them to wheel around immediately, and they vanished into Swakopmund, leaving us laughing as we turned back again and rode to our rendezvous-point.
A squad from the company was waiting on guard for us at the eight-kilometre point. The camp there was on a raised hill, which offered a good view of Swakopmund, and was occupied every day by an officer and thirty men. Since the English withdrew all their sentries to Swakopmund when it got dark, our guard returned to the camp at the eight-kilometre point. In the camp I tried to interrogate the prisoner, who was very uncommunicative. However, by asking neutral questions I finally managed to get information out of him that there were over eight hundred tents in Walvis Bay, each of which was occupied by ten to fifteen men.
25 January 1915
The company depot was moved to Felseneck, about 8 kilometres from Goanikontes. On the 25th of January, at four o’clock, Scultetus and I rode with my men and von Milkau with the second column towards Swakopmund to see if and by how far the enemy had already advanced. We were back at Nonidas by 8pm, with the the rest of the company due to arrive back at eleven o’clock that evening.
26 January 1915
At 2am von Milkau and I rode with our columns to the five-kilom
etre point and occupied the cliffs there. Venuleth and Hundsdörfer occupied positions at kilometers seven and eight, it was a cold foggy night. At six in the morning an enemy patrol of five men under a sergeant came to my position from the Swakop. The sergeant rode forward, carefully gazing around in all directions, until he came too close to us and was shot off his horse. He was badly wounded and, as more enemy forces were coming upon us at the same time, I let him lie behind our cliffs out of the line of fire. von Milkau and I went forwards to some sandstone cliffs at the three-kilometre point with our men, but the enemy was approaching us from three sides and the cruiser lying at anchor was firing at us, so we had to go back to the eight-kilometre point with the other columns. The enemy tried to attack us here, but broke off the fight and went back to Swakopmund. That left our company with nothing to do, so they rode back to Felseneck, and I stayed behind at the eight-kilometre point to keep watch. We had to leave the wounded English sergeant, and since I assumed that his men would miss him and come to fetch him, I left him something to eat and a field-bottle of water, and put a handkerchief up as a white flag on the rocks. English patrols came up several times a day to the seven-kilometre point, but they did not come to collect their wounded. I therefore decided to take him back to the camp in the evening, and sent for a cart and a stretcher. However, our doctor, who came to examine the man, considered it impossible for him to survive the transport to Karibib; but only an immediate operation could save his life.
Scultetus, therefore, decided to send the doctor and an Unteroffizer under a white flag of truce to Swakopmund. I followed their progress from my position, keeping them in my view for their protection. English officers received the pair at the three-kilometre point: the sergeant had not been missed. The English sent a field ambulance immediately and thanked us for our gallantry; they promised to do the same for us if a similar case arose. We returned to Felseneck.
27 January 1915
The Emperor’s birthday. At six o’clock in the morning, field service by the Roman Catholic priest Father Jacobs (whom we got thoroughly drunk at the celebration that night). In the afternoon, there was a company parade, a speech by Scultetus and three cheers for the Emperor.
30 January 1915
At four o’clock in the morning Scultetus, von Milkau and I rode with our squads to Nonidas.
31 January 1915
At four o’clock in the morning we rode to the beacon point at the six-kilometre point and took up positions to mount an ambush. By eight o’clock there was no sign of any enemy troops, so we rode back to the camp.
1 February 1915
At 2 o'clock in the morning my company was on guard again at the eight-kilometre point. Enemy scouts were repeatedly coming up to the seven-kilometre point. Before returning to the camp in the evening, I made it a rule to ride with two men along the railway as far as the three-kilometre point to find out enemy positions; and at the same time an Unteroffizer led a patrol along the higher ground on the opposite side, and rode back along the same route. Tonight the Unteroffizer made the mistake of crossing the railway line and riding back behind us. In the half-dark, we had to assume that we were being pursued by a hostile patrol. We galloped behind a small hill, and although my men were about to fire, I felt uncertain and stopped them in time, just before we shot over the hill at our own troops. The Unteroffizer got a pretty comprehensive chewing-out, and ended up looking like a complete idiot.
2 February 1915
Our camp was moved to the other side of the Swakop river.
3 February 1915
My squad’s turn to stand guard at the 8 kilometre point.
6 February 1915
The squad went back to Nonidas in the evening, arriving at nine o’ clock. Fed and watered, and rested until reveille at midnight.
7 February 1915
We set off at one in the morning. Venuleth’s company went to the four-kilometre point on the Otavi railway line and laid mines there. von Milkau’s company was supposed to be in position beyond the limestone cliffs at the Swakop at the four-kilometre point, but they came up on Venuleth’s company in the dark, and ended up being shot at. Scultetus, Hundsdörfer and I with our two companies rode across Larz’s farm[68], crossing the Ururas road, and taking up positions on the highest dune in the dune belt by the Swakop.
At four-thirty in the morning, we heard firing from Venuleth's company; we could hardly believe it, as we could not imagine that the enemy was behind us. The dunes approximately two hundred metres ahead of us were occupied by the English, about two companies strong. At five o’ clock in the morning we opened fire, and the English immediately responded with a volley of shots, and machine guns. The enemy reinforced and tried to bypass our left flank, so at six o’ clock we had to fall back. At the foot of the dunes we had to gallop at high speed across completely open, unprotected country, under fierce machine-gun fire from two companies of enemy troops, until we reached a small hill on the Lartz farm on the north side of the Swakop. We came under fire there too, and as the enemy gained strength we were forced to abandon that position and go back to the eight-kilometre point. The enemy attacked us there too, but took some hits and finally pulled back to Swakopmund. At nine o’clock I went back to keep watch from the eight-kilometre point; there was a huge commotion in Swakopmund.
8 to 10 February 1915
Patrols, sentry duty and the usual camp duties.
11 February 1915
Watching again from the eight-kilometre point. In the evening on the way to the three-kilometre point I came under close fire; I was being nosey, and the enemy post was hidden. Close? Too close.
13 February 1915
At half-past three in the morning I rode out again with Scultetus and my company towards Walvis Bay. We arrived at the Schwarzen Klippen at nine o'clock. The position was apparently occupied by the enemy, as we could see fires nearby through the fog. We retreated a kilometre away; it was difficult to orient ourselves in the darkness because of the dense fog and rain, so we waited for daybreak. Everything was in readiness, we had sentries posted on all sides, and the horses just had their saddle-girths slackened.
14 February 1915
At four o’clock in the morning we saw Sergeant Adomeit,[69] who had been patrolling alongside us until we lost him in the night. He reported that the cliffs were not occupied. Straight away we rode over to the dunes, and observed from there until half-past eight, when we began riding back. We dismounted for five minutes every hour on the way back. We had to cross the Swakop just before Felseneck. The river was heavily swollen as a result of rain, and the water reached to our saddles. We got back into camp at two o'clock the next morning.
17 February 1915
My company on guard at the eight-kilometre point. Very hot. Air shimmering so much that there was little visibility. The sun was so fierce that I burned my whole face, nose and ears; my glands swelled up and I felt quite miserable for two days.
18 February 1915
Oberstleutnant Franke and his staff came for an inspection.
20 February 1915
Reconnaissance at the eight-kilometre point. We were kept busy the whole day, enemy troops in squadron formation riding up to about eight hundred metres away. A great deal of activity in Swakopmund, trains going up to the four kilometre point, troops massing in Swakopmund etc. On returning to the camp I reported my observations, and gave my opinion that any day now we would face a more significant attack.
The following day the watch officer brought identical reports, so on the morning of 23 February the entire company (112 men) marched to kilometre eleven of the Otavi Railway line.
24 February 1915
At 5.30 in the morning, we encountered large groups of enemy troops, at least eight hundred mounted riders, who had appeared to our rear and on the right flank. We galloped down to the Swakop and met Hundsdörfer, who reported that Nonidas was occupied and that there were more troops on the march. One company remained in position for the time being, and the rest returned to t
he camp to take possession of the high ground—the camp lay between parallel, fairly steep, rocky canyons.
Von Milkau’s troops occupied the heights at the northern exit, about two kilometres from the camp. I stayed with my squad awaiting further orders. While the enemy was fighting against von Milkau, I was ordered to bring reinforcements to him. I galloped up a ravine, and all of a sudden there in front of us was von Milkau’s company engaged with the enemy. In order to be able to see better, I stayed low and scaled a little rocky promontory with the horse; I could see small green flags waving, which were enemy troops, and we started to come under heavy fire from above.
Before my horse could slide down the steep rocks after my Vice-Feldwebel and the rest of my company, all the firing concentrated on me and my horse. I couldn’t go any further forward through the ravine, even exploiting every possible nook and cranny of cover between there and the camp, since the enemy had already pushed forward and was beginning to advance on the camp. After a short while my company reached von Milkau’s position without any losses.
In the camp itself, the reserve horses were immediately unloaded and driven together, carts and waggons prepared, ammunition loaded, provisions and paperwork piled up and doused with petrol. Six wounded men were left behind in the field hospital tent with a medical orderly and then everyone rode through the Swakop and up the other side of the river. I was riding together with two men along a path which continuously rose, running parallel to the camp. I climbed up with one trooper to where we could see down into the camp, which the British had already entered. On the other side of the ridge four British soldiers came up, seemingly as curious as I was. We shot them with ease, and then rode away in a cloud of dust until we rejoined the rest of the company.
The Autobiography of Eugen Mansfeld Page 11