Wednesday, 19 June 2013

Grandad Williamson on the march to Ladysmith



General Yule had taken over command of the British Forces on the spot and must have come to the conclusion that holding onto any position there was hopeless and he decided to try and get back to Ladysmith and join up with Sir George White’s force there.  In the late afternoon our company commander got orders to take a number of mule wagons into the Army Service Corps yard in Dundee, which was then in No Mans Land between us and the Boers, and load up provisions to feed the force during the four days and four nights march back.  There was to be no smoking and no noise.  We soldiers obeyed but the native drivers “Ya-hooed” at their animals.  The Boers must have heard them but they took no action.  Naturally we realised the position we were in and worked hard to get the stores loaded up.  When we had finished, our officer in command told us we had 20 minutes to spare and to look round and pick up anything we could carry, but nothing heavy.  We dived into the officers’ tents and I picked up a Krop razor (I still have the blade). 

Falling in again the wagons had already gone to catch up the main body – we acted as the rear guard that night and the next day to the retreating column.  Getting away from there was one bit of luck.  The next night we had another bit.  We came to a Nek dominated by steep hills quite close to the track and I for one breathed a little easier when we were through.  If we had been held up there all the odds would have been against us.  We had no great amount of food or ammunition to make a prolonged stand and were too far from Ladysmith for the force there to give us any help.

Good fortune held with us on the third day’s march.  Again we were on rear guard and we crossed a river that was ankle deep, then we took up a position on the further bank to allow the main body, which had been delayed by the steep banks of the river, to get some distance from us.  It started to rain as we crossed and when we left the position we had taken up, two hours later, that river was twenty feet deep, quite a good moat between us and the enemy.

Then we heard the guns at Elandslaagte and that gave us some comfort.  The Boers had sent a force down the railway, perhaps with the object of flanking us out of Ladysmith.  Sir George White’s forces turned out and gave this force a drubbing, capturing their artillery and paving the way for us to march in.

We still had a long way to go and on the last night’s march we were advanced guard.  We were going along in the pitch darkness, most of us half asleep, some fully asleep (a man’s rifle would come back and fall on the man behind him, then he would fall down fast asleep, his more alert comrades would pick the fallen one up, put his rifle in his hand and start him up again just like an automaton).  Well, as I was saying, we were on this track which had a donga on each side of it and a horse came galloping down the middle of us.  We dived or got knocked into the dongas from which we climbed muddied up.  Hearing voices on our left we fixed bayonets and charged.  Some sensible chap with us called out “Who are you?” 
 
“Natal Carbineers” came back the reply.  They had come out from Ladysmith to help us in if necessary.  It was a relief, that answer, for we had that 20,000 horsemen on our minds.

As day broke we could see Ladysmith and towards afternoon, dead tired and hungry, we marched in.

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