CHAPTER XII

THE LAST WEEKS IN GERMAN TERRITORY

ON 24th October, the Governor of Chiwata, which had become the centre of the Administration, arrived at my camp east of Lukuledi for a conference. I firmly stated my opinion that, in spite of all difficulties of supply which must shortly arise in German East Africa, the war could and must be carried on. One possibility that offered was to base the operations on Portuguese territory. This could only be done by evacuating German East Africa and invading Portuguese East Africa.

The question of supplies was becoming very serious; we had in our stores only about 500,000 kg. of supplies. That would last us about six weeks. But it had been found that these figures were deceptive. The piled-up sacks had to a great extent lost weight and the grain had been eaten by insects. The new harvest could not be expected until March at the earliest. If the operations were to be continued it was necessary from this point of view alone to move south. I was still reckoning with the possibility that Captain Tafel’s force might arrive in the neighbourhood of Massassi and Chiwata, in which case I should hand over to him the supplies at Chiwata, while I crossed the Makonda hills in the direction of Lindi with part of the Chiwata force and attacked the enemy’s main line of communication on the Lukuledi river. In whichever way the situation might develop, the Chiwata district was, on account of its fertility, of the greatest importance to us. Chiwata was, however, not protected and was further threatened by the fact that enemy operations were taking place in the north against Mnacho, and enemy mounted forces had been seen on the Lukuledi-Lindi road in the neighbourhood of Ndanda. Also enemy aircraft were paying our camp at Chiwata increasing attention.

These were my reasons for withdrawing from Lukuledi at the end of October with the main part of my forces. It could not be foreseen whether another opportunity would offer of making another attack from Chiwata on one of the enemy columns that would be passing before long. For the next few weeks the enemy’s pressure was again directed against Wahle. Quite fresh troops were appearing there, among them the Cape Corps of South African half-castes. This corps had been stationed along the Central railway and had been brought up to reinforce General Beves’ troops, apparently via Dar-es-Salaam and Lindi. Fortunately General Beves had not waited for this reinforcement before his defeat at Mahiwa.

General Wahle was retiring step by step up the Lukuledi river. I was, unfortunately, not able to send him any support, but even had to draw on his forces to have troops in hand ready for a favourable opportunity for an attack and to protect the supplies. In the almost daily bush-fighting of General Wahle’s force heavy losses were apparently inflicted on the enemy, and he was held severely in check. There was, however, no defeat and no considerable capture of booty, and meanwhile our supplies were getting lower and lower. On 6th November, I rode from Chiwata to Nangoo, near Ndanda, where, close behind Wahle’s force, I found a suitable point of attack for the Chiwata troops. On 7th November I rode back from Nangoo to Chiwata, making a détour south across the Makonde hills. On the same day enemy troops were again reported at Lukuledi, and on 9th November an affair of patrols took place at Chigugu, just west of Chiwata.

At this critical time, when the heads of the enemy columns were nearing Chiwata, it was urgently necessary for us to throw all our strength against one of these columns as soon as possible before the others could intervene. The first essential to make this blow effective was to bring the whole strength of our all too weak forces to bear simultaneously. This depended chiefly on the supply of ammunition. Our whole supply had dwindled to about 400,000 rounds, a very scanty allowance for our 25,000 rifles and 50 machine guns in a serious engagement, after which it would only be possible to continue the struggle if ammunition were captured. For this the nature of the ground was unfavourable. In the thick bush there was a tendency for each individual to fire many rounds and make few hits, so that the supply of cartridges was quickly used up without producing the decisive results we needed. What made a satisfactory solution of the ammunition question still more impossible was that the cartridges were for the most part the smoky ’71 type, whereas only about one-third of the troops were armed with ’71 rifles; the other two-thirds had modern German, English or Portuguese rifles, and for these the supply of cartridges was very small. What there were were required for our most important weapon, the machine gun. It was a difficult position. There was nothing else for it but to make the attack with only those troops who were armed with the ’71 rifle and to hold in reserve the rest, who had only twenty rounds of ammunition suitable for their modern rifles, the rest being the smoky ’71 type. The two forces would then be interchanged so that the first, armed with the ’71 rifles, could hand them over to the relieving force, taking the modern weapons in exchange. This meant that at the best only one-third of the available strength could be in action at the same time and even then would have to be very sparing with their ammunition.

Our artillery ammunition had already been exhausted with the exception of a few rounds for the two mountain guns and some Portuguese ammunition. Our last field-howitzer, as well as the English gun captured at Mahiwa, had burst. The last two 10·5 cm. guns from the _Königsberg_ had been destroyed a few days before. On the day after a German mountain gun had been destroyed and sunk at Kitangari. We were thus left with one German and one Portuguese mountain gun. During the last few months the lack of artillery ammunition had been so serious that we had rarely more than three hundred rounds all told. That was about the allowance per engagement for one of the numerous English guns.

Under such circumstances an attack could only promise success if the situation was exceptionally favourable. This was never the case. The patrols were kept active, and the enemy harassed as much as possible, but otherwise there was nothing left but for General Wahle’s force and the 11th Field Company, which had been left at Mnacho to bring away the supplies, gradually to give way before the pressure of the enemy and retire to Chiwata. On 10th November the Ndanda mission, immediately in the rear of General Wahle, who was at Nangoo, was surprised by a strong enemy force and captured. The field-hospital quartered there, and part of our stores, fell into the enemy’s hands. Lieberman’s force, south of Ndanda, ensured the retreat of General Wahle’s force, which ascended to the Makonda plateau, by the road south-east of Nangoo, the road I had reconnoitred on 7th November, and, by crossing the plateau diagonally to Chiwata, escaped from the enemy’s trap. The 11th Company also found its way to Chiwata from Mnacho, so that, with the exception of Captain Tafel’s Detachment and some small bodies of troops further south, the whole force was concentrated at Chiwata. The gradual transport of our supplies from Chiwata east to Nambindinga had begun, and with that our march to Kitangari. Meanwhile I kept an anxious look-out for a vulnerable point in one of the enemy columns. On the 14th November I thought I had discovered one.

A strong enemy column, to which belonged the 10th South African Mounted Infantry, had passed close to our position while marching from Lukuledi via Massassi, and had attacked Mwiti, two hours’ march south of Chiwata. In this place, which until then had been only weakly held, Lieberman’s force (three companies) had arrived the day before. In spite of the shortage of ammunition there was, I thought, a chance that by unexpectedly throwing into the fight Koehl’s force from Chiwata, this enemy might be defeated separately. I was, however, very busy with the preparations for the withdrawal to Nambindinga and unfortunately let the opportunity at Mwiti pass without taking advantage of it.

There was nothing for it, then, but to retire gradually to Nambindinga.

Through the evacuation of Chiwata the European prisoners, as well as the Indians, who had been carried to the hospital, and the hospital itself, full for the most part of seriously wounded, fell into the enemy’s hands. The march to Nambindinga was carried out under continuous fighting between the 15th and 17th November. I wanted to make the enemy complete the concentric march of his columns, advancing north-west and south, so as to effect a junction; then, when the enemy’s masses were helplessly crowded on a narrow area, I could march where I liked. On November 17th I had to take a fateful decision at Nambindinga. The continual bush-fighting was threatening to consume all our ammunition. It would have been madness to go on with this fighting, which could not bring about a favourable decision. We had therefore to withdraw.

The supply question pointed the same way. Only by a drastic reduction of strength could we carry on with the stores in hand. Our supply area had been narrowed, fresh requisitioning had been interfered with by the enemy, and the produce of the land exhausted. The supply of quinine would last the Europeans a month longer. After the consumption of this the Europeans would certainly fall victims to malaria and its attendant evils; they would no longer be able to contend with the rigours of a tropical campaign. Only by reducing the number of Europeans to a minimum could enough quinine be ensured for each man to enable us to carry on the operations for months.

At the same time we had to reduce our total strength. Our large force with little ammunition was of less value in the field than a smaller number of picked men with plenty of ammunition. It amounted to the reduction of our strength to about 2,000 rifles, including not more than 2,000 Europeans. All above this number had to be left behind. It could not be helped that among the several hundred Europeans and 600 Askari that we were compelled to leave behind in the hospital at Nambindinga, there were men who would have liked to go on fighting and were physically fit to do so. Unfortunately, it must be admitted that among those who were left behind at Nambindinga, even among the Europeans, there were many who were not unwilling to lay down their arms. It is, however, worthy of mention that not only the majority of the Europeans, but also many Askari, were bitterly disappointed at having to remain. We had repeatedly to refuse the request of a brave Askari that he might come and fight for us. But when, two days later, Lieutenant Grundmann, though severely wounded and scarcely able to walk, reported himself, saying that he could not, in spite of orders, bring himself to surrender, I have seldom been so pleased as at this breach of discipline. It may be mentioned here that in general the enemy, as far as I am in a position to judge, treated our prisoners with humanity, but it seems to me that he was anxious to convict us of cruelty to English prisoners, perhaps in order to justify reprisals, perhaps for other reasons. Lieutenant Cutsch had been left sick in Nandanda, and fell into the enemy’s hands. On the totally unfounded and unproved evidence of a negro that Lieutenant Cutsch had on one occasion, when commanding a patrol, burned to death a wounded Englishman, he was put in irons and sent by sea to Dar-es-Salaam, being imprisoned during the voyage just outside the ship’s roundhouse. At Dar-es-Salaam he was locked up for several weeks in the prison without a trial. When at last he was tried, it came out that the charge of senseless cruelty rested purely on the lying evidence of the negro. Again, General Deventer informed me that Captain Naumann, who had surrendered near Kilima Njaro, had been tried for murder. He, too, as I heard later, was kept imprisoned for a long time without a hearing, until his innocence was finally established. I find it all the more difficult to understand this mockery of justice, as the English prisoners were always humanely treated by us, and were often better cared for materially than our own people.[5]

These decisions placed the conduct of the war on an entirely different basis. Hitherto we had stored the supplies in dumps and for the most part had been able to satisfy our demands from these; the ammunition also had been maintained from stores. This system had laid us more open to attack and offered the enemy points of attack which we could not protect. But by the methods adopted hitherto it had been possible to keep the troops in the field at great strength, considering our position, and to employ a great part of them on a small area for a considerable period. It had further been possible to give a permanent character, at any rate to some of our hospitals, where sick and wounded could recuperate in peace, and in this way we could fill the gaps in our front with refreshed and experienced men. This system had made our operations dependent to a great extent on the situation of the supplies and reinforcements, and had hindered freedom of movement. The advantage, however, in our position of being able to employ strong troops and with them successfully to engage, and often defeat decisively, superior enemy forces was so great that I held to this system as long as it was at all possible.

It was now no longer possible, and the advantages I have mentioned had to be sacrificed under the pressure of necessity. It was certainly questionable whether the reduced force could be maintained without supply dumps, and without reinforcements the prospect of remaining, after twelve days in the plains, with five thousand hungry negroes and without supplies was not attractive. Should we succeed in satisfying those requirements of the force which could not be obtained on the spot, especially ammunition and arms, by means of capture from the enemy—for the only possibility of renewing our supplies lay in capturing the enemy’s—in sufficient quantities to make the continuation of the war possible? That was the all-important question. If we succeeded, however, in maintaining the force on the new territory the increased independence and mobility, used with determination against the less mobile enemy, would give us a local superiority in spite of the great numerical superiority of the enemy. In the unlimited territory at our disposal it would be possible to withdraw from unfavourable positions. The enemy would be compelled to keep an enormous amount of men and material continually on the move, and to exhaust his strength to a greater extent proportionately than ourselves. There was also the prospect of tying down strong enemy forces and protracting the operations indefinitely if—my forecast proved correct. This was at that time doubtful, but the risk had to be taken.

We did not stay long at Nambindinga; this place situated on the plateau had no water and the springs in the valley were within range of the enemy’s guns and machine guns. Under the protection of patrols, which held back the enemy at Nambindinga, Headquarters and the main part of the forces arrived at Kitangari on 18th November. The enemy did not follow, probably he could not. As had been foreseen, he had strained every nerve to strike the so long hoped-for knockout blow at Chiwata and had to re-form before undertaking further operations. At Kitangari the old experience was repeated of finding that the supplies stored there had been estimated much too highly. The supplies at all serviceable would, all told, only feed the force for about ten days; we could reckon on no appreciable addition to these stores from the region south of Kitangari. The question in which direction the march should be continued focussed itself in the main on the prospect of again finding the means of adequately feeding the force. There was no time to be lost.

I knew that in the area along the Rovuma the English and Portuguese had systematically destroyed our supplies. Our small dumps, requisitioning stations and supply columns had been attacked and the supplies destroyed. The natives had been influenced against us. The north and south banks of the middle Rovuma were only thinly populated; at Tunduru, further up the Rovuma, strong forces of both sides had been engaged and the supplies there were probably exhausted. I could get no reliable information about the Mafia plateau south of the lower Rovuma. Even if, as many reported, this had been a richly-cultivated district before the war it was very doubtful whether now, after strong Portuguese forces had been billeted there for years, there would be any food left. The most probable place for finding supplies seemed to me at that time to be the district where Major Stuemer’s operations had taken place: the corner between the Rovuma and the Ludjenda rivers and further south in the region of Nangware and Mwembe. Even this was doubtful, for here, too, war had interfered with the agriculture of the natives. Meanwhile, of the various improbabilities this last seemed to me the least improbable, and I decided to march at once up the Rovuma.

A determining factor in the choice of this direction was my wish to equip my force for a prolonged period of action by a large capture of ammunition and other war material. Previous observation and the reports of the natives led me to believe that somewhere near the Rovuma the enemy still possessed large stores. On 20th November we reached Nevale, where we were joined by the patrols which had secured our southern flank, and the reorganization of the force was finally carried through. At Nevale the last men unfit for marching were left behind, and on 21st November we marched south to the Rovuma with 300 Europeans, 1,700 Askari, and 3,000 bearers and other natives. Every man was loaded to his full capacity. In general, as the supplies were consumed, the bearers no longer required were left behind, so as to keep the number of consumers as low as possible. In many cases we had to refuse the urgent requests of our good old bearers to remain with us, a large number offering to carry on without pay, some even without either pay or rations; these were ready to provide their own rations from what we threw away and Pori fruit. The quartermaster at that time, Naval Lieutenant Besch, reorganized the supplies and transport service very efficiently. He deserves the chief credit for the force’s ability to carry on.

As was to be expected, only small detachments of the enemy were reported in the neighbourhood of the Rovuma. On 21st November we arrived at Mpili, on the bank of the river, and were about to pitch our camp when several shots passed close to a hunting party. On reconnoitring we found in front of us a large pond, on the opposite side of which horses were being watered. Behind rose a rocky mountain. Soon afterwards a native, apparently a spy, appeared, bringing a written message: “We are English cavalry, and we want to get into touch with Portuguese infantry regiments.” Whether this was a ruse could not be ascertained. It was clear that for the moment we had only to do with a small squadron of cavalry. By a sharp attack the enemy was soon routed and in the pursuit sustained several casualties: five European prisoners belonging to the 10th South African Mounted Infantry were, for reasons of supply, sent back to the enemy. The captured horses were welcome as chargers and as a possible addition to our rations.

The rest of the march up the Rovuma progressed very slowly. A great part of the force were unaccustomed to long route-marches. The columns straggled endlessly. The Askari women followed singly, several hundred yards apart. It was some time before they learned to keep to a regular marching order. Incidentally it became obvious that in some companies the Askari who had come with us had not been selected from the most suitable point of view. In the reorganization of the companies which had had to be carried out during the fighting, many good and reliable men had been left behind, and replaced by others, stronger perhaps, but less reliable. Many went into battle with their children on their shoulders; it would have been better to choose an equally reliable man who was not burdened by having to drag about a wife and family.

But it was too late now to alter anything.

Apparently we had quite got outside the enemy’s range of observation. The aircraft which usually followed our marches were absent and no bombs fell on our camps. Once an enemy supply column crossed the Rovuma right into our camp. It was a welcome capture. Of grain we found practically none in this district, but on the other hand, we shot plenty of game. Several buffaloes and quite a number of antelopes, particularly Wasserbok, fell to our guns. But we dared not delay; our shrinking supplies urged us continually forward. Fortunately I had with me a few Europeans who knew the country, and who, shortly before, had been working near the confluence of the Ludjenda and the Rovuma. In peace time a Portuguese station had been situated there, and even in war a more or less strong garrison had been reported there. It might be assumed that even now we should find some traces of the enemy. The few natives we came across even spoke of a stronger garrison, amounting to two thousand English or Portuguese. The natives’ figures could not, of course, be relied on, but they strengthened my belief that in the neighbourhood of Ngomano something might be done.