Isegoria

BF edges closer to success in his sixth dream of The Defence of Duffer’s Drift:

Once more was I fated to essay the task of defending Duffer’s Drift. This time I had 22 lessons under my belt to help me out, and in the oblivion of my dream I was spared that sense of monotony which by now may possibly have overtaken you, “gentle reader.”

After sending out the patrols, and placing a guard on Waschout Hill, as already described, and whilst the stores were being collected, I considered deeply what position I should take up, and walked up to the top of Waschout Hill to spy out the land. On the top I found a Kaffir kraal, which I saw would assist me much as concealment should I decide to hold this hill. This I was much inclined to do, but after a few minutes’ trial of the shape of the ground, with the help of some men walking about down below, and my eyes a little above ground level, I found that its convexity was such that, to see and fire on the drift and the approach on the south side, I should have to abandon the top of the hill, and so the friendly concealment of the Kaffir huts, and take up a position on the open hillside some way down. This was, of course, quite feasible, especially if I held a position at the top of the hill as well, near the huts on the east and southeast sides; but, as it would be impossible to really conceal ourselves on the bare hillside, it meant giving up all idea of surprising the enemy, which I wished to do. I must, therefore, find some other place which would lend itself to easy and good concealment, and also have the drift or its approaches under close rifle fire. But where to find such a place?

As I stood deep in thought, considering this knotty problem, an idea gently wormed itself into my mind, which I at once threw out again as being absurd and out of the question. This idea was to hold the riverbed and banks on each side of the drift! To give up all idea of command, and, instead of seeking the nearest high ground, which comes as natural to the student of tactics as rushing for a tree does to a squirrel, to take the lowest ground, even though it should be all among thick cover, instead of being nicely in the open.

No, it was absolutely revolutionary, and against every canon I had ever read or heard of; it was evidently the freak of a sorely tried and worried brain. I would have none of it, and I put it firmly from me. But the more I argued to myself the absurdity of it, the more this idea obtained possession of me. The more I said it was impossible, the more allurements were spread before me in its favour, until each of my conscientious objections was enmeshed and smothered in a network of specious reasons as to the advantages of the proposal.

I resisted, I struggled, but finally fell to temptation, dressed up in the plausible guise of reason. I would hold the riverbed. The advantages I thus hoped to obtain were:

1. Perfect concealment and cover from sight.
2. Trenches and protection against both rifle and gunfire practically ready made.
3. Communications under good cover.
4. The enemy would be out in the open veld except along the riverbank, where we, being in position first, would still have the advantage.
5. Plentiful water supply at hand.

True, there were a few dead animals near the drift, and the tainted air seemed to hang heavy over the riverbed, but the carcases could be quickly buried under the steep banks, and, after all, one could not expect every luxury.

As our clear field of fire, which in the north was only bounded by the range of our rifles, was on the south limited by Waschout Hill, a suitable position for the enemy to occupy, I decided to hold the top of it as well as the riverbed. All I could spare for this would be two NCOs and eight men, who would be able to defend the south side of the hill, the north being under our fire from the riverbank.

Having detailed this party, I gave my instructions for the work, which was soon started. In about a couple of hours the patrols returned with their prisoners, which were dealt with as before. For the post on Waschout Hill, the scheme was that the trenches should be concealed much in the same way as described in the last dream, but great care should be taken that no one in the post should be exposed to rifle fire from our main position in the river. I did not wish the fire of the main body to be in any degree hampered by a fear of hitting the men on Waschout Hill, especially at night. If we knew it was not possible to hit them, we could shoot freely all over the hill. This detachment was to have a double lot of water bottles, besides every available receptacle collected in the kraal, filled with water, in anticipation of a prolonged struggle.

The general idea for the main defensive position was to hold both sides of the river, improving the existing steep banks and ravines into rifle-pits to contain from one to four men. These could, with very little work, be made to give cover from all sides. As such a large amount of the work was already done for us, we were enabled to dig many more of these pits than the exact number required for our party. Pathways leading between these were to be cut into the bank, so that we should be able to shift about from one position to another. Besides the advantage this would give us in the way of moving about, according as we wished to fire, it also meant that we should probably be able to mislead the enemy as to our numbers-which, by such shifting tactics might, for a time at least, be much exaggerated. The pits for fire to the north and south were nearly all so placed as to allow the occupants to fire at ground level over the veld. They were placed well among the bushes, only just sufficient scrub being cut away to allow a man to see all round, without exposing the position of his trench. On each side of the river, just by the drift, were some “spoil” heaps of earth, excavated from the road ramp. These stood some five or six feet above the general level, and were as rough as the banks in outline. These heaps were large enough to allow a few pits being made on them, which had the extra advantage of height. In some of the pits, to give head-cover, loopholes of sandbags were made, though in most cases this was not needed, owing to the concealment of the bushes. I found it as necessary to examine personally every loophole, and correct the numerous mistakes made in their construction. Some had the new clean sandbags exposed to full view, thus serving as mere whited sepulchres to their occupants, others were equally conspicuous from their absurd cock-shy appearance, others were not bulletproof, whilst others again would only allow of shooting in one direction, or into the ground at a few meters range, or up into the blue sky. As I corrected all these faults I thought that loopholes not made under supervision might prove rather a snare.

The result was, in the way of concealment, splendid. From these pits with our heads at ground level we could see quite clearly out on to the veld beyond, either from under the thicker part of the bushes or even through those which were close to our eyes. From the open, on the other hand, we were quite invisible, even from 300 meters distance, and would have been more so had we had the whiskers of the “brethren.” It was quite evident to me that these same whiskers were a wise precaution of nature for this very purpose, and part of her universal scheme of protective mimicry.

The numerous small dongas and rifts lent themselves readily to flanking fire, and in many places the vertical banks required no cutting in order to give ideal protection against even artillery. In others, the sides of the crooked waterways had to be merely scooped out a little, or a shelf cut to stand upon.

In one of these deeper ravines two tents, which, being below ground level, were quite invisible, were pitched for the women and children, and small caves cut for them in case of a bombardment, The position extended for a length of some 150 meters on each side of the drift along both banks of the river, and at its extremities, where an attack was most to be feared, pits were dug down the riverbanks and across the dry riverbed. These also were concealed as well as possible. The flanks or ends were, of course, our greatest danger, for it was from here we might expect to be rushed, and not from the open veld. I was undecided for some time as to whether to clear a “field of fire” along the river-banks or not, as I had no wish to give away our presence by any suspicious nudity of the banks at each end of our position. I finally decided, in order to prevent this, to clear the scrub for as great a range as possible from the ends of the position, everywhere below the ground level, and also on the level ground, except for a good fringe just on the edges of the banks. This fringe I thought would be sufficient to hide the clearance to any one not very close. I now blessed the man who had left us some cutting tools. Whilst all this was being carried out, I paced out some ranges to the north and south, and these we marked by a few empty tins placed on ant-heaps, etc.

At dusk, when we had nearly all the pits finished and some of the clearance done, tents and gear were hidden, ammunition and rations distributed to all, and orders in case of an attack given out. As I could not be everywhere, I had to rely, on the outlying groups of men fully understanding my aims beforehand, and acting on their “own.” To prevent our chance of a close-range volley into the enemy being spoilt by some over-zealous or jumpy man opening fire at long range, I gave orders that fire was to be held as long as possible, and that no man was to fire a shot until firing had already commenced elsewhere (which sounded rather Irish), or my whistle sounded. This was unless the enemy were so close to him that further silence was useless. Firing having once started, every man was to blaze away at any enemy within range as judged by our range marks. Finally we turned in to our pit for the night with some complacency, each eight men furnishing their own sentry.

BF’s fifth dream of The Defence of Duffer’s Drift doesn’t end well, either:

After we had done our breakfasts, and some three hours after dawn, the sentry in one of the huts reported a force to the north. We could do nothing but wait and hope; everything was ready, and every man knew what to do. No head was to be raised nor a rifle fired until I whistled from conning-tower; then every man would pop up and empty his magazine into any of the enemy in range. If we were shelled, the men in the huts could at once drop into the deep trenches and be safe. Standing in my conning-tower, from the loopholes of which I could see the drift, I thought over the possibilities before us. With great luck perhaps the Boer scouts would pass us on either side, and so allow us to lie low for the main body. With a view to seeing exactly how far I would let the latter come before opening fire, and to marking the exact spot when it would be best to give the word, I got down into the firing trenches facing the drift and the road south to see how matters appeared from the level of the rifles. To my intense horror, I found that from these trenches neither the drift nor the road on the near bank of the river, until it got a long way south of Waschout Hill, could be seen! The bulging convexity of the hill hid all this; it must be dead ground! It was. The very spot where I could best catch the enemy, where they must pass, was not under my fire! At most, the northern loopholes of the conning-tower and one other hut alone could give fire on the drift. How I cursed my stupidity! However, it was no-good. I could not now start digging fresh trenches further down the hill; it would betray our whole position at once. I determined to make the best of it, and if we were not discovered by the scouts. to open fire on the main body when they were just on the other side of the river bunched up on the bank, waiting for those in front. Here we could fire on them; but it would be at a much longer range than I had intended. It was really a stroke of luck that I had discovered this serious fault, for otherwise we might have let the bulk of the enemy cross the drift without discovering the little fact of the dead ground till too late. I reflected, also (though it was not much consolation), that I had erred in good company, for how often had I not seen a “brass-hat” ride along on horseback, and from that height, fix the exact position for trenches in which the rifles would be little above the ground. These trenches, however, had not been put to the test of actual use. My error was not going to escape the same way.

Meanwhile the enemy’s scouts had advanced in much the same way as detailed before, except that after coming past Incidentamba Farm, they had not halted suspiciously, but came on in small groups or clumps. They crossed the river in several places and examined the bushy banks most carefully, but finding no “khakis” there, they evidently expected none on the open veld beyond them, for they advanced anyway without care. Several of the clumps joined together, and came on chatting in one body of some 30 men. Would they examine the kraal, or would they pass on? My heart pounded. The little hill we were on would, unluckily, be certain to prove an attraction for them, because it was an excellent vantage ground whence to scan the horizon to the south, and to signal back to the main body to the north. The kraal was also a suitable place to off-saddle for a few minutes while the main body came up to the drift, and it meant possibly a fire, and therefore a cup of coffee, They rode up towards it laughing, chatting, and smoking quite unsuspectingly. We uttered no sound. Our Dutch and Kaffir guests uttered no sound either, for in their pits was a man with a rifle alongside them. At last they halted a moment some 250 meters away on the northeast, where the slope of the hill was more gradual and showed them all up. A few dismounted, the rest started again straight towards us. It was not magnificent, but it was war. I whistled.

About ten of them succeeded in galloping off, also some loose horses; five or six of them on the ground threw up their hands and came into the post. On the ground there remained a mass of kicking horses and dead or groaning men. The other parties of scouts to east and west had at once galloped back to the river where they dismounted under cover and began to pepper us. Anyway, we had done something.

As soon as our immediate enemy were disposed of, we opened fire on the main body some 1500 meters away, who had at once halted and opened out. To these we did a good deal of damage, causing great confusion, which was comforting to watch. The Boer in command of the main body must have gathered that the river-bed was clear, for he made a very bold move; he drove the whole of the waggons, etc., straight on as fast as possible over the odd 400 meters to the river and down the drift into the riverbed, where they were safe from our fire. Their losses must have been heavy over this short distance, for they had to abandon two of their waggons on the way to the river, This was done under cover of the fire from a large number of riflemen, who had at once galloped up to the river-bank, dismounted, and opened fire at us, and from two guns and a pom-pom, which had immediately been driven a short distance back and then outwards to the east and west. It was really the best thing he could have done, and if he had only known that we could not fire on the ground to the south of the drift, he might have come straight on with a rush.

We had so far scored; but now ensued a period of stalemate. We were being fired at from the riverbank on the north, and from ant-hills, etc., pretty well all round, and were also under the intermittent shellfire from the two guns. They made most excellent practice at the huts, which were soon knocked to bits, but not till they had well served their turn. Some of the new white sandbags from inside the huts were scattered out in full view of the enemy, and it was instructive to see what a splendid target they made, and how often they were hit. They must have drawn a lot of fire away from the actual trenches. Until the Boers discovered that they could advance south from the drift without being under rifle fire from our position, they were held up.

Would they discover it? As they had ridden all round us, by now, well out of range, they must know all about us and our isolation.

After dark, by which time we had one man killed and two wounded, the firing died away into a continuous but desultory rifle fire, with an occasional dropping shell from the guns. Under cover of dark, I tried to guard the drift and dead ground to the south of it, by making men stand up and fire at that level; but towards midnight I was forced to withdraw them into the trenches, after several casualties, as the enemy then apparently woke up and kept up a furious, rifle fire upon us for over an hour. During this time the guns went through some mysterious evolutions. At first we got it very hot from the north, where the guns had been all along, Then suddenly a gun was opened on us away from the southwest, and we were shelled for a short time from both sides. After a little while the shelling on the north ceased, and continued from the southwest only for 20 minutes. After this the guns ceased, and the rifle fire also gradually died away.

When day dawned not a living soul was to be seen; there were the dead men, horses, and the deserted waggons. I feared a trap, but gradually came to the conclusion the Boers had retired. After a little we discovered the riverbed was deserted as well, but the Boers had not retired. They had discovered the dead ground, and under the mutually supporting fire of their guns, which had kept us to our trenches, had all crossed the drift and trekked south!

True, we were not captured, and had very few losses, and had severely mauled the enemy, but they had crossed the drift. It must have evidently been of great importance to them to go on, or they would have attempted to capture us, as they were about 500 to our 50.

I had failed in my duty.

During the next few hours we buried the dead, tended the wounded, and took some well-earned rest, and I had ample leisure to consider my failure and the causes. The lessons I derived from the fight were:

20. Beware of convex hills and dead ground. Especially take care to have some place where the enemy must come under your fire. Choose the exact position of your firing trenches, with your eye at the level of the men who will eventually use them.
21. A hill may not, after all, though it has “command,” necessarily be the best place to hold.
22. A conspicuous “bluff” trench may cause the enemy to waste much ammunition, and draw fire away from the actual defences.

In addition to these lessons, another little matter on my mind was what my colonel would say at my failure.

Lying on my back, looking up at the sky, I was trying to get a few winks of sleep myself before we started to improve our defences against a possible further attack, but it was no use, sleep evaded me.

The clear blue vault of heaven was suddenly overcast by clouds which gradually assumed the frowning face of my colonel. “What? You mean to say, Mr. Forethought, the Boers have crossed?” But, luckily for me, before more could be said, the face began slowly to fade away like that of the Cheshire puss in “Alice in Wonderland,” leaving nothing but the awful frown across the sky. This too finally dissolved, and the whole scene changed. I had another dream.

BF begins his fifth dream of The Defence of Duffer’s Drift with even more lessons to keep in mind:

Again I faced the same task with a fresh mind and fresh hopes, all that remained with me of my former attempts being 19 lessons.

Having detailed the two patrols and the guard on Waschout Hill as already described, I spent some 20 minutes — whilst the stores, etc., were being arranged — in walking about to choose a position to hold in the light of my 19 lessons.

I came to the conclusion that it was not any good being near the top of a hill and yet not at the top. I would make my post on the top of Waschout Hill, where I could not be overlooked from any place within rifle range, and where I should, I believed, have “command.” I was not quite certain what “command” meant, but I knew it was important — It says so in the book, besides, in all the manoeuvres I had attended and tactical schemes I had seen, the “defence” always held a position on top of a hill or ridge. My duty was plain: Waschout Hill seemed the only place which did not contravene any of the 19 lessons I had learnt, and up it I walked. As I stood near one of the huts, I got an excellent view of the drift and its southern approach just over the bulge of the hill, and a clear view of the river further east and west. I thought at first I would demolish the few grass and matting huts which, with some empty kerosene tins and heaps of bones and debris, formed the Kaffir kraal; but on consideration I decided to play cunning, and that this same innocent-looking Kaffir kraal would materially assist me to hide my defences. I made out my plan of operations in detail, and we had soon conveyed all our stores up to the top of the hill, and started work.

Upon the return of the patrols with their prisoners, the Dutchmen and “boys” were told off to dig for themselves and their females. The Kaffirs of the kraal we had impressed to assist at once.

My arrangements were as follows: All round huts on the hilltop and close to them, we dug some ten short lengths of deep-firing trenches, curved in plan, and each long enough to hold five men, These trenches had extremely low parapets, really only serving as rifle rests, some of the excavated earth being heaped up behind the trenches to the height of a foot or so, the remainder being dealt with as described later. In most cases the parapets were provided with grooves to fire through at ground-level, the parapet on each side being high enough to just protect the head. As with the background the men’s heads were not really visible, it was unnecessary to provide proper loopholes, which would have necessitated also the use of new sandbags, which would be rather conspicuous and troublesome to conceal. When the men using these trenches were firing, their heads would be just above the level of the ground. Once these firing trenches were well under way, the communication trenches were started. These were to be narrow and deep, leading from one trench to the next, and also leading from each trench back to four of the huts, which were to be arranged as follows, to allow men to fire standing up without being seen. Round the inside of the walls of these huts part of the excavated earth, of which there was ample, would be built up with sandbags, pieces of anthill, stones, etc., to a height that a man can fire over, about four and a half feet, and to a thickness of some two and a half feet at the top, and loopholes, which would be quite invisible, cut through the hut sides above this parapet. There was room in each hut for three men to fire. In three of them I meant to place my best shots, to act as snipers, as they would have a more favourable position than the men in the trenches below, and the fourth was a conning-tower for myself. All the tents and stores were stacked inside one of the huts out of sight.

That evening, in spite of the hardness of the work, which caused much grousing among my men, we had got the firing trenches complete, but the others were not finished — they were only half the necessary depth. The earth walls inside the huts were also not quite completed. The Kaffirs and Dutch had deep pits, as before, in three of the huts. Ammunition and rations were distributed round the trenches the last thing before we turned in. I also had all water-bottles and every vessel that would hold water, such as empty tins, Kaffir gourds, and cooking-pots, filled and distributed in case of a long and protracted fight. Having issued orders as to the necessity for the greatest secrecy in not giving away our position should Boers turn up early next morning, I went to sleep with confidence. We had, anyhow, a very good position, and though our communications were not perfect quite, these we could soon improve if we had any time to ourselves the next morning.

Next morning broke; no enemy in sight. This was excellent, and before daylight we were hard at it, finishing the work still undone. By this time the men had fully entered into the spirit of the thing, and were quite keen on surprising Brother Boer if possible. While the digging was proceeding, the “dixies” were being boiled for the breakfasts inside four grass screens, some of which we found lying about, so as to show nothing but some very natural smoke above the camp I picked out one or two of my smartest NCOs, and instructed them to walk down the hill in different directions to the riverbank and try if they could see the heads of the men in the firing trenches against the sky. If so, the heaps of earth, tins, bones, grass, screens, etc., should be rearranged so as to give a background to every man’s head.

To review the place generally, I and my orderly walked off some half-mile to the north of the river. As we were going some distance, we doffed our helmets and wrapped ourselves in two beautiful orange and magenta striped blankets, borrowed from our Kaffir lady guests, in case any stray Boer should be lurking around, as he might be interested to see two “khakis” wandering about on the veld. It was awkward trying to walk with our rifles hidden under our blankets, and, moreover, every two minutes we had to look round to see if the sentry at the camp had signalled any enemy in sight, This was to be done by raising a pole on the highest hut. The result of our work was splendid. We saw a Kaffir kraal on a hill, and to us “it was nothing more.” There were the heaps of debris usually round a kraal, looking most natural, but no heads were visible, and no trenches. There was only one fault, and that was that a few thoughtless men began, as we looked, to spread their brown army blankets out in the sun on top of the huts and on the veld. To the veriest new chum these square blots, like squares of brown sticking-plaster all around the kraal, would have betokened something unusual. To remedy this before it was too late I hastened back.

BF’s fourth dream of The Defence of Duffer’s Drift yields many more lessons:

The advanced party of the enemy came on, scouting carefully and stalking the farm as they came. As they appeared quite unwarned, I was wondering if I should be able to surprise them, all innocent of our presence, with a close-range volley, and then magazine fire into their midst, when suddenly one man stopped and the others gathered round him. This was when they were some 1800 meters away, about on a level with the end of Incidentamba. They had evidently seen something and sniffed danger, for there was a short palaver and much pointing. A messenger then galloped back to the main body, which turned off behind Incidentamba with its waggons, etc. A small number, including a man on a white horse, rode off in a vague way to the west. The object of this move I could not quite see. They appeared to have a vehicle with them of some sort. The advanced party split up as already described. As all were still at long range, we could only wait.

Very shortly “boom” went a gun from the top of Incidentamba, and a shrapnel shell burst not far from us. A second and third followed, after which they soon picked up our range exactly, and the shell began to burst all about us; however, we were quite snug and happy in our nice deep trench, where we contentedly crouched. The waste of good and valuable shrapnel shell by the enemy was the cause of much amusement to the men, who were in great spirits, and, as one of them remarked, were “as cosy as cockroaches in a crack.” At the expenditure of many shells only two men were hit – in the legs.

After a time the guns ceased fire, and we at once manned the parapet and stood up to repel an attack, but we could see no Boers though the air began at once to whistle and hum with bullets. Nearly all these seemed to come from the riverbank in front, to the north and northeast, and kept the parapet one continual spurt of dust as they smacked into it. All we could do was to fire by sound at various likely bushes on the riverbank, and this we did with the greatest possible diligence, but no visible results.

In about a quarter of an hour, we had had five men shot through the head, the most exposed part. The mere raising of a head to fire seemed to be absolutely fatal, as it had on a former occasion when we were attempting to fire at close range over a parapet against the enemy concealed. I saw two poor fellows trying to build up a pitiful little kind of house of cards with stones and pieces of ant-hill through which to fire. This was as conspicuous as a chimney-pot on top of the parapet, and was at once shot to powder before they had even used it, but not before it had suggested to me the remedy for this state of affairs. Of course, we wanted in such a case “head cover” and “loopholes.” As usual, I was wise after the event, for we had no chance of making them then, even had we not been otherwise busy. Suddenly the noise of firing became much more intense, but with the smack of the bullets striking the earth all round quite close it was not easy to tell from which direction this fresh firing came. At the same time the men seemed to be dropping much oftener, and I was impressing them with the necessity of keeping up a brisker fire to the front, when I noticed a bullet hit our side of the parapet.

It then became clear, the enemy must evidently have got into the donga behind us (to which I had paid no attention, as it was to the rear), and were shooting us in the back as we stood up to our parapet.

This, I thought, must be what is called being “taken in reverse,” and it was.

By the time I had gathered what was happening, about a dozen more men had been bowled over. I then ordered the whole lot to take cover in the trench, and only to pop up to take a shot to the front or rear. But no more could be done by us towards the rear than to the front. The conditions were the same – no Boers to be seen. At this moment two of the guard from Waschout Hill started to run in to our trench, and a terrific fusillade was opened on to them, the bullets kicking up the dust all round them as they ran. One poor fellow was dropped, but the other managed to reach our trench and fall into it. He too was badly hit, but just had the strength to gasp out that except himself and the man who started with him, all the guard on Waschout Hill had been killed or wounded and that the Boers were gradually working their way up to the top. This was indeed cheering.

So hot was the fire now that no one could raise his head above ground without being shot, and by crouching down altogether and not attempting to aim, but merely firing our rifles over the edge of the trench, we remained for a short time without casualties. This respite, however, was short, for the men in the right half of the trench began to drop unaccountably whilst they were sitting well under cover, and not exposing themselves at all. I gradually discovered the cause of this. Some snipers must have reached the top of Waschout Hill, and were shooting straight down our right half trench. As the bullets snicked in thicker and thicker, it was plain the number of snipers was being increased.

This, I thought, must be being “enfiladed from a flank.” It was so.

Without any order, we had all instinctively vacated the right half of our trench and crowded into the left half, which by great good luck could not be enfiladed from any point on the south side of the river, nor indeed by rifle-fire from anywhere, as, owing to the ground, its prolongation on the right was up above ground for some 3000 meters away on the veld on the north bank.

Though we were huddled together quite helpless like rats in a trap, still it was in a small degree comforting to think that, short of charging, the enemy could do nothing. For that we fixed bayonets and grimly waited. If they did make an assault, we had bayonets, and they had not, and we could sell our lives very dearly in a rough-and-tumble.

Alas! I was again deceived. There was to be no chance of close quarters and cold steel, for suddenly we heard, far away out on the veld to the north, a sound as of someone beating a tin tray, and a covey of little shells whistled into the ground close by the trench; two of these burst on touching the ground. Right out of rifle-range, away on the open veld on the north, I saw a party of Boers, with a white horse and a vehicle. Then I knew. But how had they managed to hit off so well the right spot to go to enfilade our trench before they even knew where we were? Pom-pom pom-pom-pom again, and the little steel devils ploughed their way into the middle of us in our shell-trap, mangling seven men. I at once diagnosed the position with great professional acumen; we were now enfiladed from both flanks, but the knowledge was acquired too late to help us, for —

“We lay bare as the paunch of the purser’s sow,
To the hail of the Nordenfeldt.”

This was the last straw; there was nothing left but surrender or entire annihilation at long range. I surrendered. Boers, as usual, sprang up from all round. We had fought for three hours, and had 25 killed and 17 wounded. Of these, seven only had been hit by the shrapnel and rifle-fire from the front. All the rest had been killed or hit from the flanks, where there should be few enemies, or the rear, where there should be none! This fact convinced me that my preconceived notions as to the front, and its danger relative to the other points of the compass, needed considerable modification. All my cherished ideas were being ruthlessly swept away, and I was plunged into a sea of doubt, groping for something certain or fixed to lay hold of. Could Longfellow, when he wrote that immortal line, “Things are not what they seem,” ever have been in my position?

The survivors were naturally a little disheartened at their total discomfiture, when all had started so well with them in their “crack.” This expressed itself in different ways. As one man said to a corporal, who was plugging a hole in his ear with a bit of rag –

“Something sickening, I call it, this enfilading racket; you never know which way it will take yer. I’m fairly fed up.” To which the gloomy reply, “Enfiladed? Of course we’ve been enfiladed. This ‘ere trench should have been wiggled about a bit, and then there would not have been quite so much of it. Yes, wiggled about — that’s what it should have been.” To which chipped in a third, “Yes, and something to keep the blighters from shooting us in the back wouldn’t ‘ave done us much ‘arm, anyway.”

There were evidently more things in earth than I had hitherto dreamt of in my philosophy!

As we trekked away to the north under a detached guard of Boers, many little points such as the above sank into my soul, but I could not for some time solve the mystery of why we had not succeeded in surprising the enemy. There were no men, women, children, or Kaffirs who, knowing of our arrival, could have warned them. How did they spot our presence so soon, as they evidently must have done when they stopped and consulted in the morning? It was not until passing Incidentamba, as I casually happened to look round and survey the scene of the fight from the enemy’s point of view, that I discovered the simple answer to the riddle. There on the smooth yellow slope of the veld just south of the drift was a brownish-red streak, as conspicuous as the Long Man of Wilmington on the dear old Sussex downs, which positively shrieked aloud, “HO Hi! Hi! – this way for the British defence.” I then grimly smiled to think of myself sitting like a “slick Alick” in that poster of a trench and expecting to surprise anybody!

Besides having been enfiladed and also taken in reverse, we had again found ourselves at a disadvantage as compared with the concealed enemy shooting at close range, from having to show up at a fixed place in order to fire.

Eventually I collected the following lessons:

11. For a small isolated post and an active enemy, there are no flanks, no rear, or, to put it otherwise, it is front all round.
12. Beware of being taken in reverse; take care, when placing and making your defences, that when you are engaged in shooting the enemy to the front of your trench, his pal cannot sneak up and shoot you in the back.
13. Beware of being enfiladed. It is nasty from one flank-far worse from both flanks. Remember, also, that though you may arrange matters so that you cannot be enfiladed by rifle fire, yet you may be open to it from long range, by means of gun or pom-porn fire. There are few straight trenches that cannot be enfiladed from somewhere, if the enemy can only get there. You can sometimes avoid being enfiladed by so placing your trench that no one can get into prolongation of it to fire down it, or you can “wiggle” it about in many ways, so that it is not straight, or make “traverses” across it, or dig separate trenches for every two or three men.
14. Do not have your trench near rising ground over which you cannot see, and which you cannot hold.
15. Do not huddle all your men together in a small trench like sheep in a pen. Give them air.
16. As once before — cover from sight is of often worth more than cover from bullets. For close shooting from a non-concealed trench, head cover with loopholes is an advantage. This should be bulletproof and not be conspicuously on the top of the parapet, so as to draw fire, or it will be far more dangerous than having none.
17. To surprise the enemy is a great advantage.
18. If you wish to obtain this advantage, conceal your position. Though for promotion it may be sound to advertise your position, for defence it is not.
19. To test the concealment or otherwise of your position, look at it from the enemy’s point of view.

BF enters his fourth dream of The Defence of Duffer’s Drift with a few more lessons learned:

Again did I find myself facing the same problem, this time with ten lessons to guide me. I started off by sending our patrols as described in my last dream, but their orders were slightly different. All human beings were to be brought into our post, and any animals which could be of use to the enemy were to be shot, as we had no place for them.

For my defensive post I chose the position already described in my last dream, which seemed very suitable, for the reasons already given. We consequently dug a trench similar in plan to that already described, but, as I feared the possibility of guns being used against us, it was of a very different section. In plan it faced north generally, and was slightly broken forward to the front, each half being quite straight. In section it was about three feet six inches deep, With a parapet about twelve inches high in front of it; we made the trench as narrow as possible at the top compatible with free movement. Each man hollowed out the under part of the trench to suit himself, and made his own portion of the parapet to suit his height. The parapet was about two feet six inches thick at the top and quite steep inside, being built up of pieces of broken ant-hill, which were nearly as hard as stone.

The patrols returned shortly with their bag of a few men, women and children. The women indulged in much useless abuse, and refused to obey orders, taking the matter less philosophically than their mankind. Here was evidently an opportunity of making use of the short training I had once had as an A.D.C. I tried it. I treated the ladies with tons of “tact” in my suavest manner, and repeated the only Dutch words of comfort I knew “Wacht een beetje” — “Al zal rech kom” — but to no purpose. They had not been brought up to appreciate tact in fact, they were not taking any. I turned regretfully round to the colour-sergeant, winked solemnly and officially, and seeing an answering but respectful quiver in his left eyelid, said “Colour-sergeant.”

“Sir?”

“Which do you think is the best way of setting alight to a farm?”

“Well, sir, some prefer the large bedstead and straw, but I think the ‘armonium and a little kerosene in one corner is as neat as anything.”

There was no need for more. The ladies quite understood this sort of tact; the trouble was over. The Dutchmen and Kaffirs were at once started digging shelters for themselves and the women and children. The latter were placed together, and were put into a small ravine not far from the trench, as it was necessary to place them in a really deep trench, firstly to keep them safe, and secondly to prevent their waving or signaling to the enemy. The existence of this ravine, therefore, saved much digging, as it only required some hollowing out at the bottom and a little excavation to suit admirably.

All dug with a will, and by night the shelters for the women and children, men prisoners, and the firing trench, were nearly done. All arrangements for the guards and sentries were the same as those described in the last dream, and after seeing everything was all correct and the ladies provided with tents to crawl under (they had their own blankets), I went to sleep with a feeling of well-earned security.

At daybreak next morning, as there were no signs of any enemy, we continued to improve our trench, altering the depth and alignment where necessary, each man suiting the size of the trench to his own legs. In the end the trench looked quite neat — “almost as nice as mother makes it” — with the fresh red earth contrasting with the yellow of the veld. As one of my reservists remarked, it only wanted an edging of oyster shells or gingerbeer bottles to be like his little broccoli patch at home. Upon these important details and breakfast a good two hours had been spent, when a force was reported to the north in the same position as described in the previous dream. It advanced in the same manner, except, of course, the advanced men were met by no one at the farm. When I saw this, I could not help patting myself on the back and smiling at the Dutch ladies in the pit, who only scowled at me in return, and (whisper) spat!