CHAPTER I.
From Kingston to Durban.
No
Volunteer Regiment in the country showed more enthusiasm than did the
East Surrey Battalions upon receiving the official invitation to form
a Service Company to co-operate with the Regulars in the South African
War. Our country needed our help, and we were only too proud to offer
it. Names were quickly handed in, and soon each of the four Volunteer
Battalions had enough men ready to compose their respective sections.
After a medical examination at the Regimental Depot, Colonel Phillips
finally appointed us members of the East Surrey Regiment.
January
22, 1900, saw the muster of the Company at Kingston, where they were quartered
for a brief training while being fitted with the necessary khaki for the
field. Not time was lost, and the men were fully occupied with route marches,
bayonet exercises, and acquiring knowledge and practice in all the evolutions
necessary to a soldier in active warfare.
The
weather was extremely cold, and the drill was interrupted on one or two
days by heavy falls of snow. This time, however, was not wasted, the officers
and non-commissioned officers taking advantage of it to instruct us in
military laws, scouting, &c.
At
length the Company was reported complete, and very shortly afterwards
we received orders to be ready to embark on the S.S. "Tintagel Castle"
on the 10th of March.
Dinners
were given in honour of the Company by the 3rd Volunteer Battalion East
Surrey Regt., and Lord Wandsworth, at which some complimentary speeches
were made, and the best wishes expressed four our success.
A
short furlough was granted to the men, which we all made the most of,
afterwards mustering on March 9. Friends were admitted to the barracks
during the day, and several stayed the night, none of us who were leaving
for the front thinking of turning in.
Early
on Saturday (March 10) we had a good square meal, and then fell in on
the parade ground about 4.30 a.m., 116 strong, under the command of Captain
Collyer and Lieutenants Longstaff and Brooks.
All
being reported correct, we shook hands with those who had gathered in
the barracks square, and forming fours, marched out of the depot. At the
gate we were met by a large crowd armed with torches, fireworks, and flags,
who cheered again and again, and quickly broke through our ranks to bid
a last farewell to those dear to them. The whole march to Kingston Station
was in fact one triumphal procession, and, considering the early hour,
the number of people who had collected brought clearly to our minds how
much those at Kingston appreciated what we were willing to do for our
country. There was no rowdyism, but on all sides, from friends and stranger
alike, to those in our ranks who belonged to Kingston, and equally to
those from other places, a sincere and hearty "God-speed, and a safe
return" was wished.
At
the station the enthusiasm was at its height, and the valiant efforts
of the band were almost drowned in the continuous cheering. The men had
hard work to reach the platform, but this was eventually accomplished
with the aid of the police. The baggage was quickly packed in the train,
and all aboard, we moved out of the station about 5 a.m. The band struck
up "God Save the Queen," the crowd cheered louder than ever,
and we began our journey for the distant battleground with the liveliest
impressions of a heavy send-off a soldier could wish for.
After
picking up the Middlesex Service Company at Hounslow, we had a quick run,
and arrived at Southampton about 8.30 a.m. During the journey down we
had, on previously received orders, carefully packed out equipment in
the valise and attached a label thereto, so that on arrival it could,
with such things as would not be required on the voyage, be stowed away.
A
line was formed, and rifles and bayonets, helmets, and valises with equipments,
and one of our two kit bags, were rapidly collected and stowed in their
respective storerooms. We were then marched on board with our sea kit-bags
and overcoats - the only things left in our possession - and we were told
off, in dozens, to the messes where we were to make ourselves at home
for the next three weeks.
This
done, we were free to go on the quay to have the last few words with those
who had come down to Southampton to see us off. Other companies arrived
in quick succession, and they were dealt with in the same orderly and
quiet manner. Shortly after 2 p.m. all had arrived, and every soldier
had to take his place at the mess table. The roll was called, we were
reported all present, and were then allowed on deck. Here we seized on
every available spot from deck to topmast, whence to get the best and
longest view of those on the quay.
At
2.45 p.m. the last gangway was run ashore, the ropes were thrown off,
and the vessel moved slowly away amidst cheers that only a British assembly
can give.
An
enthusiastic cornet-player strikes up "Rule Britannia," in which
all on board join, losing for a moment the sorrows of parting in their
pride at being reckoned fit to fight for that Britannia for which so many
noble men had fought before. Then followed the National Anthem, getting
fainter as we left the land behind. A last wave of the cap to those who
are dear to us before they vanish from our sight - for how long none can
tell - and all the bonds that held us are broken, and we are off, with
thousands of miles to travel before we shall again set foot in dear old
England.
For
some time we remained on deck watching the coastline growing fainter and
fainter, until it vanished in the dusk of evening. Then we went below
to tea.
The
weather was superb. A cloudless sky, smooth sea, and a fair wind behind
us, which allowed us to set sail, no doubt thus increasing our speed.
Even the Bay, that terror to landsmen, smiled upon us, and afforded us
a comparatively smooth run across its usually troubled waters. The catering
for the troops was as good as could be wished for - and much better than
we expected. In fact, it was practically third class passengers' fare.
After the first day or two what little sickness there was disappeared,
and we all settled down to have as comfortable a time as possible. Musical
instruments had been brought on board by members of different companies,
and every evening an impromptu concert was organised. The days were spent
in sufficient exercise to keep men fit, and instruction in the duties
of a soldier in the field, and in the penalties for the various serious
offences. Every man had his hammock and two blankets for the night, the
hooks on which to sling them being fixed over the respective messes. These
were drawn from the hammock room by the mess orderlies between 6 and 7
p.m., and returned at reveille. The extensive washhouses and offices
were well looked after by the Engineer detachments on board.
All
meals were drawn by the orderlies at the cookhouse door, in tins provided
for that purpose. The tables were supplied with plates, glasses, &c.,
these, when not in use, being kept in a rack fitted up for that purpose.
The whole vessel was lighted with electricity, each mess having a powerful
lamp. The decks were regularly scrubbed by fatigue parties told off for
the duty, and everything was kept as bright and clean as a new pin.
Land
was sighted for the first time after leaving England, early on the morning
of the 15th March; the snow-capped peak of Teneriffe towering above the
bank of clouds that hung round its base; and shortly after noon we came
to anchor at Las Palmas. This was the first of foreign lands most of us
had ever seen, and we were proportionately interested in it. The town,
situated upon the slope of a hill, with the low, white houses plentifully
interspersed with palms and other trees, and here and there a dome or
spire rising above the common level, with the ships in the harbour, formed
an extremely beautiful picture. Behind the port rose a succession of flat-topped
hills, higher and higher towards the interior, until their summits were
lost in the clouds. Away to the right a sandy isthmus connected an almost
detached bank of foliage with the mainland, and along this a tramway was
laid.
Of
course our view of the town was taken from the deck of the vessel, as
no soldiers were allowed ashore. The wreck of the "Denton Grange"
was still grounded closer in to land, with one or two traction engines,
which ought to have been doing good service at the Cape, rusting on her
deck.
Immediately
on our arrival numerous bumboats surrounded the vessel, and a lively trade
commenced. Bananas, oranges, and cigars rapidly changed hands, and most
of us laid in a stock of fruit to last over the fortnight of salt water
that was to follow. The boys who dive for money in the parts also found
plenty of patrons.
After
a six hours' stay for coaling, the "Tintagel Castle" again weighed
anchor, and just as the lights of the town began to twinkle in the distance
we steamed away. The weather continued fine, though the heat became rather
trying to us novices. Cape Verde was visible for a short time on the eastern
horizon on Sunday, the 18th March. As we neared the tropics some of the
wonders of the flying fish, shoals of benitas, and a shark or two, as
well as that beautiful jellyfish known as the nautilus. A canvas salt-water
bath was rigged up by the crew for the benefit of the troops, and many
men were glad to take advantage of it morning and evening. Sports were
started, and between the intervals of drill frequent contests took place
between champions of rival companies, affording a great deal of amusement
to the onlookers. Our men held their own well in these trials. Orders
were issued that no socks or shoes were to be worn, and in consequence
a few of us suffered from blisters, though in the majority of cases this
practice hardened the feet for the coming trying marches. Those who wished
it were inoculated against enteric by the ship's doctor, Dr. W. McLean,
who was assisted by Dr. L. B. Betts. This caused some of the men to feel
a bit "seedy" for a few days, but all got through without serious
results. Awnings were now spread over the decks, and these afforded plentiful
protection from the sun.
On
the 21st March the equator was crossed. King Neptune, though rather chary
in his visits lately, was good enough to honour us with his presence,
and baptized a fair number. He arrived in the evening, but it was too
late to perform the ceremony that night, so it was put off to the following
afternoon. The sea ruler boarded us in good time, attended by his train
in various grotesque costumes, and took his seat before the bath, with
Britannia on his left. His myrmidons then seized everyone pointed out,
and hauled them before his throne, where they were lathered with paste,
and shaved with a two-foot razor. A plentiful supply of powder in the
shape of flour was then administered, after which the victim was ducked
three times in the bath. A certificate was then presented to him, showing
that he had been baptized a son of Neptune. Just at the end of the ceremony
someone discovered Kruger hid in the washhouse, and he was quickly hauled
forth and subjected to the ordeal, though he strongly resented the shaving
and water.
But
the voyage had its shadows as well as its sunlight. On Friday, 23rd, the
enjoyment was marred by the death of a private in the Somerset Volunteer
Company. He was buried early next morning by a clergyman who was a passenger
on board. Nearly all the men were present, although attendance was voluntary,
and the service was most impressive, as amongst all the concourse of rough-and-ready
men not a murmur interrupted the voice of the minister. The "last
post" sounded, the Union Jack was lifted, and the first amongst us
to lay down his life for his country found a resting-place in the deep.
But
a soldier has no time to think of past sorrows. The routine of life on
board quickly dimmed our recollections of this scene, and we were soon
as cheerful as ever.
On
Sunday, 25th, Captain Collyer read prayers in the morning, after which
we were free for the day. A strong headwind sprang up, which caused the
vessel to pitch and roll considerably. The ss. "Norman" was
sighted, and some signaling took place, but they had no fresh news to
tell us. The following five days were spent in the usual manner, the weather
being fine.
SS, "Tintagel Castle."
At
daybreak, on Saturday, the 31st of March, the long-looked-forward-to land
appeared. The decks were promptly crowded, and every man strained his
eyes on the yet far-distant coastline. As we drew nearer the rugged peaks
that overshadow the Cape Town became distinct, and towering prominently
in their midst the world-famed Table Mountain. By 9 a.m. we were at anchor
in the bay, and every available pair of field-glasses was intently scanning
the surroundings. The anchorage was crowded with transports, nearly every
vessel of any size bearing on its side, in large figures, the number denoting
that she belonged to this branch of the service. Some enthusiastic anglers
were to be seen leaning over their side patiently waiting for a simple-minded
fish to take their bait.
We
lay off in the bay until 11 a.m. next day, when a quay became vacant,
and we ran alongside. Five companies immediately disembarked, and the
luggage was landed. Grapes were to be had on the wharf at 6d. a helmet-full;
and this we took advantage of.
Cape
Town lies directly at the foot of Table Mountain, whose wall-like sides
rises almost perpendicularly over it to a great height. On the south side,
mountains of smaller size extend to the end of the Cape of Good Hope.
Away to the north and east the land is comparatively flat at the sea edge,
but some high mountain ranges can be seen further inland. The place is
built for some distance along the coast, and is of considerable extent.
Many large and handsome buildings are visible, rising above the ordinary
level.
On
Monday, 2nd April, we bade "Good-bye" to the ss. "Tintagel
Castle," and landing for the first time on South African soil with
our baggage, marched to a distant wharf, and embarked on the Union Steamship
Company's liner "Goorkha," bound for Durban with about 700 men
on board, and at daybreak next morning sailed out of harbour. This vessel
is a fine twin screw steamer, with ample accommodation for passengers
and officers on the upper deck. The troops were quartered on the lower
deck, which had been well fitted up for our reception. In the "Tintagel
Castle" the East Surreys had been messed right forward; here we were
right aft. The food, though not so good as that previously supplied us,
was varied and plentiful, the arrangements for drawing the same as before.
Hence
to Durban we had interesting glimpses of the country in whose interest
we had come to fight. On Wednesday, 4th April, we cam to anchor at 6.30
a.m. off the town of Aliwal South, or Mossel Bay. The town is prettily
situated on a hillside in the western curve of the bay, and moving about
the roads we caught our first glimpse of the Cape wagon drawn by sixteen
oxen. The inhabitants sent an invitation to land, but time was too short
to allow us to accept their hospitality. We were the first troops who
had called there during the war, and I expect they wanted a closer inspection
of us. A few came on board, and before we left a welcome and generous
present of fruits, biscuits, and cake was sent aboard for us. At 3 p.m.
we weighed anchor and steamed off for Port Elizabeth. During the night
we ran into a fog, and for some hours were at a standstill, hardly able
to see twenty yards off. For a few minuets a large steamer was visible,
passing us very closely, but she quickly vanished. Shortly after 11 a.m.
the mist cleared off, and we found ourselves just off Algoa Bay. We ran
in and came to anchor at 11.30 a.m. on the 5th, amongst the dozen or so
of steamers already rising there.
Two
dirty niggers had come aboard at Cape Town for Port Elizabeth. So far
they had been clothed in the filthiest of rags, but as we came to, we
were surprised to discover them opening their bundles in an unoccupied
horsebox. Off went the rags, and on went clean underclothing, new flannel
trousers of a gaudy pattern, coat to match, and a smart felt hat. Then
the troops cheered. It was afterwards reported that one of these blacks
had three, and the other two, wives at this port.
We
discharged a quantity of cargo during the day into lighters, and at 9
p.m. again got under weigh, and arrived at East London at 9.30 the following
morning, coming to anchor in the roads. There is no harbour here for large
vessels, the only shelter being the small mouth of the river, protected
by breakwaters. The buildings lying on the east bank are very scattered,
and some of them of considerable size. To the east of the town a large
camp was pitched, and on the hills we could see some small bodies of cavalry
manoeuvring. We landed the Oxford Light Infantry Company here, a tug coming
alongside, and the men being lowered into it in a basket, four at a time.
The sea was very choppy, causing the tug to pitch heavily, and in consequence
there was little sickness. The Oxfords left the "Goorkha" amidst
much cheering on both sides.
We
lay here until 9 p.m., and then weighed anchor and sailed for the vessel's
final destination. We were close in to the shore, and had a good view
of the coast during the day, arriving at Durban at 6 p.m. on Sunday, the
8th of April, our voyage finished. Next morning a tug with a barge in
tow came off, and we all embarked thereon, and ran into port.
Durban
possesses no bay in which to shelter the large amount of shipping which
collects here. The river-mouth, though of considerable size, is far too
shallow for vessels of large tonnage, and all the traffic is done by barges.
Breakwaters have been erected to protect the lighter craft and form a
small harbour; and here our tug ran alongside, and landed us at 1.30 p.m.
We had no opportunity of seeing the town, no man being allowed to leave
the ranks; at 2.30 a train of cattle and goods trucks ran on to the quay,
and on this we embarked, and with a last glimpse at the sea turned our
faces northward to the front.
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