Sources |
- [S109] South African Government, Cape Archives, 27 Jan 2003, MOOC 6/9/659 404.
- [S119] Stanton, Ellen, Stanton, Ellen, 27 Jan 2003, Bathurst #43.
BATHURST #43
Entry #15 Child: James COLLETT Parents: James and Rhoda Born: 7/15/1833 Baptized: 10/13/1833
- [S449] Collett, Joan, "A Time to Plant", 27 Feb 2003, p 36.
"In 1833, James, another son, was born, and baptised at Bathurst by Rev Richard Haddy in the new Wesleyan chapel opened the year before."
Description by James Butler in 1876:
"The house is built on a little spur facing due magnetic south and the sea, and some of the houses at Port Alfred can be seen from it. In front is a somewhat broken flat running into kloofs that fall into the Kowie (River) on the right.
One solitary, stunted tree at the back of the home, but the most striking object is the central and only chimney…Turning east and west is an outcropping strata of some hard stone which extends as far as we can see along the hill and is called Stony Ridge."
Seems like the farm on which he was born was in Port Alfred - maybe halfway to Bathurst town.
- [S172] Collett, Lynne, 12 Mar 2004, Memoirs of LHC Part 1, lynne.collett@postino.up.ac.za.
A FREESTATER REMEMBERS
In a response to a request from Mrs Joan Collett of Katkop, Fish River, who wrote on behalf of Professor Guy Butler who is doing research on James Collett and his Clan, I have agreed to put pen to paper and to submit for Professor Guy’s approval, some of the facts, cuttings and photographs of my Grandfather James, the second son of James Lydford Collett. All particulars of this quite amazing settler are already familiar to Guy, but more about this forebear later.
James was born on the 15/07/1833 and was the first to be buried in the Rynheath Cemetery near the Port Elizabeth - Graaff Reinet railway line about half way between the old homestead and the Rynheath spruit. .
Lydford records in his diary how he “left home (Graaff Reinet) to-day 18th January 1859 for the Kowie with sick son William. Wednesday 19th married to-day my son James to Mary Simpson of Grahamstown.†He goes on “Friday 28th drove the whole distance from Kowie to Grahamstown arriving at dusk. William’s health improved. Wed. April 4th 1860 married my son Joseph to Emily Sijmpson 5th daughter of Mr W Simpson of Grahamstown.â€
In his early days Grandfather James had something to do with a wool washing business in Uitenhague. He lived at Daggaboer for a while. He often accompanied his father on tour through the area he represented in the Assembly.
He inherited ₤12 000 when his father died in 1875, and bought the farm Rynheath near Graaff Reinet. Rynheath consisted of approximately 120,000 morgen and when the railway line was completed it took the train nearly an hour to travel through the farm. There is quite an interesting story concerning the building of this railway. Grandpa James was an impetuous, hot headed man and had several arguments with the Engineer planning the route. I remember my Grandmother telling me that because of this for spite they finally sited the railway line between the farmhouse and the cattle and goat kraal. However they did erect two heavy iron gates for wagons and livestock as well as kissing gates for pedestrians. Of course the gates were sometimes left open and I can remember a cow as well as poultry and goat kids being killed by the score. Finally, after much squabbling and litigation, Rynheath was made into a Halt, which meant that the Colletts were given the right to stop the train to allow passengers to get on or off the train. The leather mail bag was handed up to the guard while the train was on the move, and coming from Graaff Reinet this bag would be hurled out from the now fast moving train.
I can recollect a big swarm of locusts bringing the up train to an unscheduled halt and sand being used to prevent the engine wheels slipping. We kids assisted in this operation. One of the pranks we got up to was placing hair pins and nails on the line to be flattened.
Another fact I remember well was the thrill of seeing the first electric light on one of the carriages. It was so bright that it shone right through our kitchen, which faced the line and was only the width of a road from the railway fence.
It can be imagined what a nightmare the proximity of the railway line was to my parents who had to bring up five children and were responsible for the numerous servants not to mention the coloured children who came to the house every day from their kraals across the line. By the time my Father returned to Rynheath in 1902, Grandpa and Grannie had built a new home, and with Uncle Denham moved to Colleton about ¾ mile away, across the Sundays River. The two homesteads were connected by 80-100 yard long suspension bridge, which was just one more hazard for the children.
James and Mary, who was born on 27.3.1838 had eight children. Ernest Cecil was accidentally killed by a rolling rock on his Uncle William’s farm Legkraal near Fish River. John G Collett in his book “My Story†gives a full account of this tragedy. Ernest was buried on Grass ridge where the old people lived, on Christmas Day. My Father, Charles, who actually touched the rock, could never speak about this accident without tears coming into his eyes even years later when we went back to Rynheath.
My father, Charles Hedley, was born in the Hanover District and married Amy Minnie Williams who was born on the Pacific Island of Samoa on the 2nd September 1874 and came to Durban in 1875. More about this courageous woman later. They were married on the 27th March 1895 in the Congregational Church, Smith Street, Durban (the account of their 61st Anniversary says, the Aliwal Street Congregational Church).
He was educated at Graaff Reinet and a Mr Godlonton for whom he and his father James had the greatest respect, was the Principal. I recollect seeing a bundle of letters written by this gentleman. These letters were in the possession of Denham Collett who was named after Denham Godlonton. Denham’s widow Charlotte (née Fox) handed all her husband’s diaries and papers to Miss Elsie M. Donald of Graaff Reinet to be handed to Rhodes University in 1942. It was while Charles, ages 14, was at this school in about 1876 that he wrote out that beautiful copy of The Lord’s Prayer, which is attached. The original measuring 29†x 17†is in the possession of Hedley Collett (Aubrey his expedition to the Kalahari to collect ostriches (see Daily News Account 26.3.57 of 62nd Wedding Anniversary). He was an accountant at this Bank’s Branch in Bloemfontein when the Railway from the south was opened (see Natal Witness cutting 31.3.51). Brian Hedley has the chiming wall clock, still keeping accurate time, which Dad won at the big Sport Meeting held to celebrate the opening of the railway. See photo, which I have dated 24 May 1893 and clock, which Brian has.
While he was in Bloemfontein, Charles assisted with the laying down of the first cricket pitch at the Rambler’s Club in 1888 (see photo of 1882 cricket team and cuttings, The Friend 10.4.40 and 2.9.54). I remember him telling me that they were having difficulty in getting the pitch level when he brought along a leveling plank shod with a straight piece of hoop iron on one edge with a broom handle. In no time the pitch was level and the old Boer foreman, who was I suppose, in charge of the Club grounds, exclaimed aloud to the chairman and Committee members who had gathered to do their bit, as was customary, after 5 o’clock “Die Meester Collins (he always referred to Dad by this name) is slimmer as ‘n Boerâ€.
From Bloemfontein Dad was posted as Manager to Bethlehem and he had some hair raising stories to tell of his weekly or fortnightly journey on a Cape cart to the then branches at Kestell, Reitz, Senekal and even as far as Ficksburg, carrying thousands of Golden Sovereigns in a kist under the seat of the cart, more often than not across rivers in flood and without an escort, or agter ryer. He also had to visit a branch in Harrismith where his future brother-in-law Mr. A. Williams was manager but his romance with Amy Minnie started in Bethlehem when she came to visit her sister Mrs. Percy Goble. Percy became Mayor of Bethlehem, a post which he held for about 20 years. Charles was sent to the newly opened National Bank in Johannesburg for a short period. One day a Mr Sam Strapp came into the Bank at Bethlehem to arrange an over draft in order to buy a farm on the Little Caledon River, 29 miles from Bethlehem and 26 from Fouriesburg. Mr. Strapp told Dad he did not like the name of the farm and asked him to suggest another. Dad had just read a book about Dunblane in Scotland and suggested that he call it Dunblane, which Sam did. This is the farm my father bought from Sam Strapp’s estate 15 years later.
In1901 we went to see my Grandfather at Rynheath to discuss terms for taking over part of the farm and the old homestead. As the Railway line had not been opened as far as Bethlehem, we had to go to Durban where we caught a ship and I, who had just turned three, can remember very vividly waking up in the morning feeling sea sick and then embarrassing Mother by being sick in my porridge plate. Another vivid memory of this sea trip was being herded with 8 - 10 other children and women into a large basket affair and being hoisted off the deck and over onto the tug. Douglas, who was then a few months old, was actually thrown by one sailor to another across the gap between ship and tug. I also remember feeling much better as soon as we got on the fast moving tug which took us to the Port Elizabeth Jetty. I do not remember anything about our trip from there back to Bethlehem, but think it must have been by train to Bloemfontein, cart & horse to Ladybrand and horse wagon from there to Bethlehem (see three passes issued in 1900). Also see C.H.C’s application to become a British subject signed at Harrismith on 11th November 1901.
Early the following year Dad left the bank to go back farming at Rynheath. This move involved taking all the family, belongings and furniture, and as the railway had not yet been opened as far as Bethlehem the moving had to be done by ox wagon to Kroonstad. Two incidents concerning this undertaking come to mind. The wagons were assembled and being loaded at Percy Goble’s Auctioneering Office not far from the Bank. The whole town had come to see us and the Goble Family (except Uncle Percy) who was apparently going along to help my mother settle in, in her new home at old Rynheath. Brother Douglas had the most amazing fair to ginger curly hair which all the women folk greatly admired. On this occasion one elderly lady came up to Douglas who promptly sat down in the road and held onto his bonnet with both hands. The other incident was when one of the wagons got stuck in a drift crossing one of several streams, and the team of sixteen oxen from the one wagon had to be hitched in front of the team which had got stuck. There was a tremendous amount of shouting and cracking of whips but still the wagon would not move. Finally my cousin Eric Goble, who was a good bit older than I, decided to assist by pushing from the back and I of course followed his example. As we did so the wagon seemed to leap forward with the result that we both landed on our faces in the mud - we of course were firmly convinced that it was our efforts that got the wagon out. Mother used to recount another incident regarding this trek, which could have ended tragically. Apparently while we children were sleeping in the wagon, the adults were having supper under the wagon. A candle had been left burning inside and this was hanging above where Douglas was asleep. Mother fortunately heard him moaning and grousing and came to investigate and found that the candle fat from the spluttering candle had been falling onto the child’s face, who could only move his head from side to side and so was nearly suffocated by the warm candle fat.
Charles and his family finally settled down in the old Rynheath home as James had by then built Colleton and with Denham moved across the way. Willie, Charles’ youngest brother had by then returned from University and was Dad’s assistant and lived with our family.
The Boer War had ended but Smuts and Denys Reitz were still on the run and had broken back into the Cape where they were scrounging for food and clothes as well as horses. They had heard that James had an outstanding Stallion and were determined to get it, but Grandpa had built a kraal in the middle of a clump of mimosa thorn bush some distance from the stables and had hidden the stallion and one other riding horse there. The Boers got hold of our Hottentot Groom and apparently hammered the daylights out of him but he refused to divulge the whereabouts of these horses. They then went to Willie whose room was in the large wagon house-stable block not far from the main house, and wanted to beat him up but ended up by taking all his clothes instead. As they were leaving Willie shouted “Hey - leave me something to put on in the morning†so they threw him an old pair of khaki trousers. The same night they invaded our home and I can well remember the row they made walking in their heavy boots and hearing my mother call out “Don’t go in there - that is only the children’s room.†We children were terrified and lay dead still in our beds. In the meantime Dad had grabbed a gun and gone outside, fired several shots in the air, and shouted “Hier kom did Khakiesâ€. With that, the Boers still in the house and pantry section, dashed up the long passage forgetting the steps leading up to the front rooms and outside door and fell over each other cursing. This incident left a lasting impression on my mind. (Denys Reits in his book “Commando†records their experiences round Graaff Reinet.)
As mentioned earlier, Rhyheath was an enormous farm even by the standards of those days. Besides boer goats, angora and ostriches, there were nearly a thousand Springbok on the place. I was not allowed to shoot but always joined the boys on horseback to drive the buck on to the guns. We had one or two big shoots every year (20-30 guns), which resulted in anything up to 100 buck shot on the opening season shootl. Each gun was entitled to take 2 buck and any more than this were put on the market or railed to friends all over the Union. I had a very fast Passmore mare but the buck got to know me and my mare and we could never cut off a herd once they were on the move back to the big open camp. Some years we constructed a netting bottle neck run onto which we used to drive the springbok. These netting kraals were hidden behind the thorn trees and opposite a crossing used by the buck. The live buck were sold to other farmers or parks for I think £5 a ram and £4 an ewe.
Of course ostriches were the main source of revenue and the Rynheath strain was one of the three or four most sought after and famous strains. I can recall the Evans strain and I think the Schoeman stud at Outshoorn. Rynheath was famous for the “Dark Hen†and all her progeny and it was thought that this bird was one of the bunch that Charles had rounded up in the Kalahari somewhere in the early 1880’s (see cutting from the Daily News 26/3/1957).
Charles and Denham attended the coronation of King Edward VII. James, as mentioned earlier, was apparently a law unto himself and being a Senator and friend of the great Cecil John Rhodes, was almost feared by most people. My Mother was made of sterner stuff and was one of the few people and only woman who would stand up to him and I have a hunch that he finally told his son to get out and take his wife with him. Even Granny Collett, usually the peacemaker, could not prevent the break up although he was very fond of us three boys, who took it in turns to spend a weekend or even a week with them every month. I used to love it except when the old man sent me to inspect a monkey trap cage or wild cat trap just after dark to see if anything had been caught. It was then that I told my first lie as I could not pluck up the courage to go so far from the house in the dark.
Finally, on 10 May 1910 - the year of Halley’s Comet, we had to catch the train at Rynheath Halt at 4 a.m. The Comet was at its brightest and best, and I can remember very vividly this phenomenal spectacle, which extended from mid heaven to the horizon.
I can not recall how we all got to our new farm Dunblane 30 miles from Bethlehem, Aubrey, Kathleen & Lilian were all born at Rynheath, Charles’ inheritance from Rynheath was 1000 Angora goats and 100 ostriches. These were railed, I think the latter to Bethlehem, while the goats were off loaded at Fouriesburg Rail. These were the first ostriches to be farmed in the Free State. See photo.
Fortunately Charles had had the experience in the moving of the birds but it must have been quite a feat trekking the goats the 28 miles to the farm. Dad always said the worst thing he ever did was bringing Angora Goats to that mountain farm. After a few years he realized the damage they were doing to the magnificent grassveld so by about 1918 he had sold them all and replaced them with merino sheep, shorthorn cattle and horses. We also had a huge Catalinial Donkey Jack and bred a number of huge mules. Wheat was the principal crop but transport costs to Bethlehem was the killer and Dad would tell us that he made more from one clip of feathers which he could take on his horse buggy, than 10 wagon loads of wheat. Of course the bottom fell out of the feather market during the war, but Dad was wise and able to hang on for two to three years and finally sold at a good profit. It had been our job as children to cart out all these feathers from the cellar and air them on the croquet lawn. We had a tennis court as well. Our neighbours, the Walkers of St Fort and Liddells of Clifton, used to ride over for croquet and tennis 2 or 3 times a month and every alternate month the Methodist parson from Bethlehem arrived in his horse trap to take the Service in our large dining room.
Before leaving Rynheath - there were no schools near the farm so we were taught by Governesses of whom we had at least three. One I remember well was a Miss Bent from near Graaf Reinet. We left Rynheath in 1910 as detailed before. At Dunblane we had first one Governess then as we boys became older we had to get a Governor, a Mr J G Green who had come out to this country as an invalid to teach the Biggs family at Brooklyn near Aberdeen. Uncle Jack, as we got to know him, married Dad’s eldest sister Alicia, and as he was from Nottingham he was a good cricketer and he was the one who taught us our early cricket at Dunblane.
Finally I was sent to Kingswood College in 1914, the year the war broke out, and here I was, for the whole of my two years, near the bottom of the class. My only consolation was that Eric King from Bedford and I took turns at being last or second to last. I finally left Kingswood without even obtaining my Junior Certificate. Although I never really excelled at sports I was Captain of the second Cricket and rugby Teams. I left Kingswood to go to Grootfontein Agricultural College, Middelburg, as I knew that I would not be allowed to join up from school. We were recruited by Col. Ewart Collett and I can remember well when 24 of us junior students jumped on the stage to sign up, after the farewell party to about 20 senior students who were off to German East Africa. Col. Collett looked at me as I got onto the stage and asked me my age. I promptly said 19, which was supposed to be the age of about three quarters of us who joined up that evening. Col. Collett looked at me and said, “How come are you saying 19 - I remember your father’s wedding and according to that you could not be more than 17, what is your correct age? I will not sign you up until you get permission from your father and motherâ€.
The next day he wired Dad and Mother at Dunblane and the message was sent from Bethlehem to the farm by pigeon (see copy of his telegram). I had a loft of pigeons, which kept us in touch with Mr and Mrs Goble who sent messages back by these pigeons. After two days the reply came back “Yes, you have our permission to join up but call in to say good byeâ€.
I arrived at Bethlehem one afternoon. Uncle Percy (Mr Goble) had borrowed a horse for me to ride out to the farm and I set off at about 4 o’clock. As it became dark I got tired and went to sleep in a donga not far from Noupoort Nek and woke up at about dawn to find my horse, which I had tied to my feet, had gone. I nearly panicked but ended up by carrying my saddle and bridle up to the store. Mr Sandler, who owned the store, lent me another horse on which it took me half an hours ride to reach Dunblane. He promised to send a search party to look for my missing horse. Dad and Mother finally agreed to my joining up and I reached Roberts Heights by the end of March where I was detailed to Hardigan’s horse, which was later to become known as the Ninth Horse or “Shiny Ninthâ€. We were in training for two months and finally on 22 May 1916 sailed from Durban on the Arandale Castle and landed at Kilindini, where we entrained for Voi.
I had been inoculated for Enteric and vaccinated. This affected my arm - it will carry the scars. On board ship my arm was still in a mess and because we had a lot of parades it was always being knocked and my first scrap was with someone who punched me on this arm and I saw red and retaliated, so a ring was formed and we had to fight it out on board ship.
From Voi we had to march to Mbuni where we, the 9th and 5th SAH, were all encamped. We had a big draft here - the 2nd Brigade under Colonel Brits consisting of 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th Horse, were in the same camp. One of our first jobs was to make a large kraal from thorn trees to keep our horses in. These we had to lead from Voi to Mbuni. I can remember being on horse Guard one night when there was a terrific commotion. All the horses jumped up and a lot of them broke through the thorn kraal and disappeared into the night. We could not make out what had disturbed the horses or why they had all awoken simultaneously. It turned out that a pride of lions had passed within a few hundred yards of the camp and the horse instinctively panicked. Those of us who had been in the kraal were nearly knocked over by the then stampeding horses.
About the end of May we saddled up on our first stage to the battlefront, and what a commotion there was. We had to put two blankets under the saddles, which were new, and then we had our two bandoliers plus a water bottle and a kit bag slung over our shoulders. This made it difficult to mount as the saddles kept on swinging under the horses’ stomachs and some of the horses got a fright and galloped off with the saddles dangling under them. Before our departure, one of our duties was to go out on wood fatigues, which ostensibly to shoot game for our rations. This area near lake Tavitha was swarming with every type of antelope one could imagine and one of the men I was with, I won’t mention his name, was a “townieâ€. He shot a zebra. These animals are very stupid and run around and then stop broadside on to you about 100 yards away, so they were an easy target. This fellow shot the one zebra and was about to shoot another. I remonstrated with him and told him that he had enough skin there to make twenty belts, why shoot another one. He told me that was his business was about to take aim when I grabbed his rifle, threw it to the ground, and we had a fight in the middle of nowhere with nobody to second us or stop us. I was in a terrible mess as my skin was very soft and he knocked blazes out of me. Anyway all turned out well as we were quite good friends in the end. Another interesting event which happened on our first night near Salata Hill, where the British were defeated by von Leto a few months before - we had been given quinine pills which we had to take. This night they handed us arsenic pills for our horses and as they were given to us the officer in charge of our troop, Mr A E Mills, warned all of us not to take these pills - they were for our horses, but in the excitement, four of our fellows swallowed the arsenic pills and what a commotion there was. We had to get the doctor from headquarters. The pills had been to reduce the incidence of horse sickness amongst the horses. When the doctor came he had to give the poor blighters who were by then nearly hysterical with fright, stomach washes and they were then sent back to the hospital on one of the ro. From there we went on to a place called Membe where we had our first encounter with von Leto’s troops. At Kondo Crangi we saw the hospital, which had been bombed by the German’s with the gun they had taken off the Konig and brought up the Ruaha River. The Konig was a German Battle Ship, scuttled up the river. As we left Kondo Crangi, General Smuts, who had just come up to take charge of the campaign, inspected us just outside. It was quite an inspiring march past as we rode along in columns of four under a large baobab tree which spanned the road. Oom Jannie took the salute as the first column of our mounted brigade rode out from the tunnel under the baobab.
From here on it was a case of hit and run and my troop with Major Hunt in charge did a forced march round the back of the mountain in an endeavour to cut off the German’s who were still in Mpapwa. For this Exercise Major Hunt was awarded the Military Cross. Our first real scrap came at Kadedi where the 11th S.A.I. came under shrapnel fire while crossing the open plain. We watched this from the hills overlooking Kadedi. Just outside Kilosa we awoke on morning to the sound of artillery fire. The Indian Mounted Battery, which was alongside us, received the brunt of the shelling and lost some men and mules as some of the mules stampeded. For the first time in my life I saw what frightened men will do. Some chaps took cover behind their saddles, while one trooper hid behind his Dixie with his backside sticking up in the air. It was just before this scrap that one of our men, who had wandered across the Indian line, touched or put his hand into a bag containing their meal. He was jumped on and nearly lynched, as they were very strict high cast Indians. In spite of an acute shortage of food this bag of meal was thrown away.
We took Kilosa (meaning the White Man’s Grave) on the railway, a few days later. By now the short rainy season had started and our men were going down with malaria and dysentery and our horses started dying like flies so we were reorganized for our trek over the Uluguru Mountains in an attempt to capture Kisaki. It was up in these mountains I first felt the hardship of a soldier. We had left our horses to do a two day stunt on foot with no coats and only two days “iron rationsâ€. It rained all the time for what turned out to be the four days we were in the mountains and it was bitterly cold. For warmth we laid down as close together as we could with rain trickling down our backs and the lice very active.
Our first Mounted Brigade was reorganized at the foot of the mountains and it was here my half section and I had to bid farewell to our two amazing horses. We both shed a tear, as they had saved our lives on several occasions when we had had to make a quick get away, as they were always together and answered to our call.
Kisaki should have been taken that week but there was some jealousy among the commanders as to who would take this strategic village on the north bank of the Ruaha River not far from Kidodi, which the three brigades, 1st and 2nd Mounted and an infantry Brigade attacked separately and each in turn got hell knocked out of it. We had got used to the fact that von Letto would pull out. This time he held firm and counter attacked and the South African causalities were heavy. My B Troop had a very lucky escape when we were advancing across an open cotton field and got to within a hundred yards or so of the forest when the enemy, who lay in rifle pits, opened up with rifle fire. We beat a hasty retreat with bullets crackling over our heads but we only suffered one casualty - Lofty van der Merwe, whose father was farm manager at Grootfontein. Sgt. Burke, I think it was, was ordered to remain with van der Merwe and the two were taken prisoner. When the Germans retired across the Ruaha we inspected the scene of the battle and came to the conclusion that the Askari had fired hundreds of rounds from prone position, without taking aim, because had they taken aim we would surely have lost half our troops. We finally dug in, in rifle pits all along the bank of the river. Our pits were approximately 3 - 4 yards apart with our native carriers enclosed in a thorn bush “bomaâ€. One man in every three had to keep watch so it is still a mystery how a lion could have crept between two men somewhere along the line and carry off one of our porters and jumped over one man - a man who was awake, while carrying the screaming porter. The rifle fire from both sides of the river was continuous until the enemy, except for the few snipers shooting from the taller trees, pulled out. One of the snipers got, I think, Lt. Holdane Murray from Graaff Reinet it was while assisting Murray that Bonnie Rose (one of our Grootfontein students) was wounded in the leg, which later had to be amputated. Bonny, like most of us, resumed his studies at Grootfontein after the War and he finally became Sheep and Wool Officer in spite of his artificial leg. He was a great chap for practical jokes and loved to frighten some of the female staff and girl students by leaving his leg protruding under their beds. By now we were all very low in spirits and most of us troopers had cut off our riding breeches as the leathers had shrunk after being boiled and our shirts were only kept on our backs by our red flannel sun protectors’. My boots were only held together by my spurs as we had not seen our kit bags since we left Mbuni in June. On our long march to Morogoro a Padre took compassion on me and gave me a clean shirt. When we finally got to Morogoro on the railway, a very sick tired and bedraggled bunch we were a far cry from the shiny 9th to which we were proud to belong.
All the while we were in the Kisaki area, we had no rations and lived for the most part on a bit of scrounged ‘vunga’ - a type of mixed mealie/kaffir corn meal, and whole stamped mealies and yards and yards of sugar cane.
We were camped outside Morogoro in a beautiful rubber plantation on the slopes of Uluguro Mountain, to the best of my recollection, for most of November 1916. By then Dar-es-Salam had been taken but most of the railway bridges, from this port up to Daduma, had been blown up. This meant that all our lines of communication up till then were the longest of any campaign in the world (over 700 miles by road) were still not shortened. It was there that we got our first reinforcements of horses and men and we had a busy time as our casualties had been very heavy from disease. At one time I was the only man of our troop who had not dropped out. This was due entirely to my amazing old half section ’Dad’ Wright, who was my mate at Grootfontein and who had served in the South West African Campaign. He looked after me like a father and would never allow me to drink water however thirsty we might be, insisting that we drink only the cold tea we had in our water bottles, which we replenished when we camped at night. I had seen many of our troopers drop down on their bellies to guzzle filthy water at water holes where, in some cases, dead animals lay.
We finally pulled out at dusk and I had to lead four remounts and ride one. This was one of the worst jobs I had in the army - especially getting out of the rubber plantation as it was almost impossible to control this string of led horses. In my anxiety, I forgot my rifle which I had leant against a rubber tree, and only discovered my plight when I finally reached the main road to Kilosa, I then had to tether the four led horses and find my way back to the spot where we had camped - this through the rubber plantation. It is still a mystery to me how I finally reached this place and found my rifle. It was midnight by the time I was back on the main road and collected my now tangled bunch of remounts. I had been most perturbed as of course it was a very serious crime to loose one’s rifle. I finally caught up with the column camped outside Kilosa, where all the troopers who had pulled out or fallen out due to illness, joined us again. I wept for joy when I found dear Dad Wright there. Before we got to Mahenge I had to shoot four of the five horses I had left Morogoro with. They were all ill with horse sickness and one can imagine my feelings especially as some of them were the most beautiful animals it had been my lot to see. On our trek south we forded several rivers swarming with crocks. Our camp outside Mahenge was a haven, situated in glorious open bush country, teeming with game - the only part of East Africa where I would like to have farmed.
We left Maheng
- [S172] Collett, Lynne, 12 Mar 2004, Memoirs Part 2, lynne.collett@postino.up.ac.za.
We left Mahenge on 24th of December and reached Mohanga Mission that evening. The next day was Christmas Day, which turned out to be just about the most grueling day of my life - up and down heavily wooded bamboo country, cutting our way through with our bayonets and pangas. I was posted to Machine Gun Company and when a mule got stuck or tired we had to carry the boxes of 303 ammunition and put them back on the packs. We slipped and slithered down steep slopes all that night and finally go to the main track from Mahenge to the South, at about Dawn. I happened to be on guard and just as it was getting light, heard the sound of champing bits coming up the hill, so woke the officer in charge of the machine gun. He alerted the guard and gave orders not to shoot but as the small advance party got up to us, some fool ordered their white officer to ‘hands up’, instead of which this party vanished into the gloom, after which all hell was let loose with shots from our lines and then shouting and pandemonium from the valley below us. As it got light we could see a large column of Germans around the Mahaga Mission about 1000 yards below us, all packing and saddling up. A figure whom we were sure was the great General von Vorbeck himself, being carried on a covered black stretcher “mechelaâ€. I had grown up on a springbok farm at Graaaf Reinet so could use a rifle and could have picked off the man on the stretcher, being carried by about 6 askaries, but we had orders not to shoot as Smuts wanted the General alive. We had seen signals to the North of us so Capt Southey knew that they were the British contingent - this was General Northey’s column, and he knew our Regiment was strung out along the ridge and that the 2nd Mounted Brigade should have been in contact behind us. We watched the Germans finally disappear over the ridge behind the Mission and expected to hear the firing and clatter of Machine Guns any moment but waited in vain all that day. The next day we heard that von Letto, together with the last of his troops had slipped between two of our columns and had disappeared into the Refugie Swamps. Years later it came to me as a great shock that I might have caused the death of this gallant and one of the Kaiser’s most illustrious Generals. As it turned out he was one of the last Germans to surrender, and became a great and respected friend of General Smuts.
On many occasions on our trek from Arusha to Mpapwa, all through that dry country, von Letto who was ahead of us, could have poisoned wells or food and held up our columns for months, but he did not do so.
This was virtually the end of the East Africa Campaign, except for a reorganized motorcycle regiment, which chased him through the jungle and swamps all the way to Portuguese Territory, where he finally surrendered some time after Armistice had been declared.
The South African Expedition was called off but my dear old half section volunteered for this exercise and I never saw him again as he died peacefully form the effects of the war on his farm near Bathurst. NB. I still have his sisters letters to me.
By now our horses had all died so we had a long march from Iringa across some
large rivers, one of which was the Great Ruaha which we crossed by Pont. To our dismay and anger it was here while waiting for the Pont that we found the wrappings of many of our comforts and parcels from home which had never reached us. As a reprisal we looted the big A.S.C. Supply Dump that night.
When we reached the railway at Dodoma we were in clover with good rations including condensed milk, tinned fruit etc. Our canteens were well equipped - we even had an open air cinema. A rugby match was arranged but before half time more than half the players were out on the sidelines as sick as dogs.
We left Dodoma in trucks and reached Dar-es-Salaam eventually. Here we were billeted in tents on the side of the harbour and we used to swim out to the two wrecks, which had been sunk by the Germans across the entrance to the Harbour. One of these was very near to our camp so we used to swim out there and dive off from it into the lovely warm water.
About the end of January 1917 we landed at Durban and were put into a Discharge Camp at Congella. Here we were all discharged, “temporarily unfit for further war serviceâ€, and given 31 days leave.
NEW CHAPTER - THE WAR IN FRANCE
I returned to Dunblane and helped on the farm but could not settle down so, after getting in touch with three of my old Grootfontein pals we enlisted in the South African Heavy Artillery in Cape Town on the 18th June 1917. We were camped in tents at the back of the Greenpoint Track where we had a very happy month training with most weekends free, and our party of now 6 were given the use of Mr Spreckley’s Cottage at Glencairn. He was the Manager of J.W. Jaeggers. On my to Cape Town I called at Kingswood to say goodbye to my two brothers, Douglas and Aubrey.
We finally embarked on the Edinburgh Castle about mid August and had an uneventful run to Sierra Leone - Freetown. From there we were in a large convoy, which kept well out in the Atlantic. Opposite the Bay of Biscay we struck terrible weather and most of the troops went down with sea sickness. I was so ill I could not move so lay up amongst the anchor chains for the rest of the voyage. We finally docked at Plymouth on the 2nd September my Mother’s birthday. Our camp was inside Port Staden on the hill overlooking Plymouth Sound. Here we again came under strict discipline under Sgt. Major Micky Rann as our instructor. I shall never forget Christmas Eve, which our section celebrated in an Hotel in Plymouth. It was the first occasion in my life that I had drunk beer - or for that matter any alcohol, and as a result ended up being horribly ill on the ferry going across to Turnchapel that night. Some of the blokes could not even make it up the hill to our camp at Fort Staden. Some including my half section Mac ended up in the Guardroom that night.
We were very glad when we got our disembarkation leave and Murray and I went to London and Aberdeen. When we got back from leave McDonald from Cookhouse, Murray from Graaf Reinet and Geoff Sackey who had been at Grootfontein with us, decided to join the Signallers - the ‘Death or Glory’ boys. We spent most of our time flag wagging out in the lovely Devon countryside using heliographs, and doing gas drill.
The big day came on the 1st March with England covered in snow, we embarked at Southampton in a small troop ship for le Havre, it was a rough crossing and most of our troops were sea sick again as we were battened down in the holds. We spent all night at Hafleur Camp in tents, 4 to a tent. Here we had intensive Gunnery and Signaling training. It was really a month of hell so our section was very pleased to get on a draft, which left for Rouen - sleeping forty in a truck. As the train pulled in at Bethune station, we came under our first heavy shell fire, and once again I saw what frightened men could do. One minute the platform was crowded with troops and civilians the next there were only a few of us “rookies†there - the rest had dived under the train or into the station or nearby homes. MacDonald, Murray and I were posted to 73rd battery under Major Brydon Dunhale. Geoff Sackey joined Uecky and Clarke in 71 under Reg Hawds.
While foraging through my box of old letters and photographs, I came across one of my old soldiers diaries. It gives a description of my first experience of coming under shellfire in the western front. It is dated Sunday 7th April 1918. Slept cold with only two blankets. Did nothing all morning so went for a walk all over the valley. We were shelled heavily last night with gas.
8th: Did nothing all morning; went for a fine walk and had a good evening.
Tuesday 9th: Did not sleep a wink due to heavy shelling all round but fell in at 8.30 and we rookies knew we were in for our initiation as we soon came under heavy shell fire as we passed through Gore Wood. By the time we got to our gun positions at 11 am there was a dense ground mist and visibility zero, and both batteries, ours at Apple and Acorn came under heavy artillery fire all afternoon and when a German plane swooped low over our guns we knew we had been spotted. I grabbed a rifle and fired several rounds and could hear the bullets hit the plane and saw the pilots hand as he banked away. Not long after all hell was let loose and Major Brydon was back and forth between the two positions calling his men to keep on firing, and by now the guns were firing at about 9° elevation. It was about this time our gallant Major was hit but he carried on. One of our guns got a direct hit and Charles Yeats from TY in Basotholand was wounded. The Portuguese holding the support lines in front of us broke and they came tearing past us shouting, “German, Germanâ€. One of our officers shouted, “One of you do a rugby tackle on one of the little buggers so I can find out what is happening in the front line.†It turned out this bunch were in the support trenches and their mates in the front trench had fought like tigers until most of them were wiped out and so we had no infantry in front of us until a regiment of Lancs arrived. These little chaps were truly amazing as all we heard as they filed past us was, “Strechers, Strechersâ€, when one was hit or killed and the gap would be filled. Six of our chaps were wounded. On two occasions we were ordered to remove our breechblocks as Brydon thought the Huns were on us.
Wednesday 10th: Had no sleep at all. Had to pull all our guns into a new position and carried shells and timber all day. Much quieter in the afternoon. Got all our guns firing from the new position. Major Brydon, who was in doctors hands at the billet, slipped away and came to direct operations. Carried on all night; we were all dead beat.
Thursday 11th: Had to unload 600 shells. Our guns fired all morning and Major Brydon, Lt. Charter and Lt. Rose-Innes were taking cover together when they got a direct hit from a 4.2 shell. My half section Macdonald went to hospital with a slight wound. Charter was killed and Rose-Innes wounded. It proved to be the last shell fired that day. We slept at the billets again and were shelled that night. Got orders to get ready to move. Had to load up all quarter-stores got news that fellows at battery got hell. Guns were pulled out and we shifted all stores to new posies at Neux le Mines and moved up munitions.
Saturday 13th: Had no sleep that night. Pulled all guns into posies and unloaded shells. Were relieved that night at 9.30 after firing all afternoon. Did a tremendous amount of damage. Our section on guard and had to offload 600 shells again. By now our shoulders were raw from carrying shells. We were relieved at 9.30. I had a good bath, went to see Uecky and Thornton at Labourse. Had a good nights rest and went up to guns at 9.30. Had a hard days firing, firing all night - very rotten night.
The 16th Tuesday: Stayed on at guns in order to get into Maud Murray’s shift. Never stopped firing all day and night. I was just about done-in. Had very little skof.
Wednesday 17th: Were relieved at 9.30 - all damn tired. Had skof at Murrays and went to see Ackie at 71 battery. Had to go up to guns on fatigue.
18th: Awakened at 4am as we were shelled. Our new ‘posi’ shelled to blazers and dumps set on fire. Fearful mess at our guns. Fired all day, off loaded 1200 shells.
Friday 19th: We made a big counter attack. Friday - finished fatigue in morning so got down to billets at 1 o’clock. Went for a glorious and much needed bath and a new rig-out. Mac returned from hospital.
Saturday 20th: Went to our guns at 9.30 and fixed up new gun positions; nearly finished dugouts; had an easy day but fired all night, gas. Some of our shells were gas and some were 106’s - high explosive. I was damn “moegâ€.
Sunday 21st: Had an easy day but then had to off load 2000 shells.
22nd: Had quite an easy day and shifted our guns and did a little firing all night. We made a push that night.
23rd: Had to load 800 shells and came home. Maud and I went foraging in Nuex le Mines but missed the boat. Had a fine late supper.
Wednesday 24th: Had an easy morning but fired all afternoon and night. Had a stint at midnight; nearly finished our dug-out where we had our little shelter.
25th: Did fatigue and came back early. It was fearfully hot all day, and had a slight thunder-storm. A new draft arrived from Harfluer but no Geoff (Murray’s half section). Got parcels, dried fruit etc. Fell in early; we did nothing all morning until after tea and then had a big stunt and fired practically all night again. Got letters from home.
Saturday: Unloaded our 400 shells and came home, home being our new dug-out. Maud and I went out for grub again but got nothing. Saw Akkie and Clarke at 71.
Sunday 28th: Had a very heavy day.
Monday 29th: Off loaded our 400 shells and came home early. A number of Scotties were killed next to us. Got a little extra bread. Maud and I had a fine bath.
Tuesday 30th: Had the easiest day since Apple, but fired 4 rounds ranging and had night in. Got up early. Fritz sent over a lot of gas towards the morning.
My diary ends here because I had to report sick on 4th May. It was due to a hernia I had, caused by carrying all those heavy shells. I had a very interesting trip down through some lovely country to the C.C.S. at Rouen where I waited until 8pm and then went by ambulance car to the C.C.S. I was in the 4th Canadian hospital for about a week near Eatapes.
It took us over a week to get to Rouen and then finally we got a train, (four of us old heavies) at Harfluer. The trucks we traveled in were very crowded.
I remember meeting and talking to some very nice French girls at the various stops. We finally got to Bethune to find some quarters ablaze and I had to walk about 10km to our new billets. We were very happy to get some mail from home. I spent the first night sleeping on a table. I was on light duty but had to help with the digging of the new gun-pits 900 yards from the front line. Came back very tired and walked 8km and was on exchange duty that night. We had to move the guns several times in mock retreats or move down the line to try to bamboozle the enemy. In between moves we played several cricket matches and went to a concert in Houchin. About this time Fritz started dropping pamphlets and I remember one I picked up said they had taken over 1000 prisoners. We virtually had to run the gauntlet between our billets and the guns. We lost several men and we heard that Clarke had been wounded. Jerry dropped a lot of gas shells all around us. We put up a heavy counter battery attack firing over 400 shells that night to enable the next draft to get back to billets. A very good thing was that we had reinforced our billet so we did not get too much gas inside. But one shell hit our dump of gas shells and we soon found out that our gas was worse than anything we had got and these cracked shells had to be moved. We wore leather wool lined jackets and sheepskin gloves. We had to be very cautious and dumped them in well, prepared holes in the ground and covered them up.
Now, about this time I was officially appointed as a telephonist, which meant that I got 5 shillings a day instead of the ordinary 3 shillings.
August 11th: Murray got a piece of H.E. through his knee and I got a piece across my back. We had to walk miles to a C.C.S. to be vaccinated and to my horror we were reported wounded on the casualty list. This meant sending cables to our parents to let them know we were quite OK.
About this time we got hell knocked into us and number 2 gun pit was blown to blazers. We strafed off and on, all afternoon up to 9pm. It was an amazing sight at night to see the continuous flashes of gunfire right along the line. It became quite a strain when I was on OP up behind the trenches we had to watch for the various coloured SOS lights. Our telephonist ranks had been badly depleted so this meant we were on exchange duty very often and for long hours. When our DB telephone wires were blown we had to do visual signaling. Some time later we were relieved and ordered to go 8 miles behind the line. Here we indulged in cricket and watched some good boxing, and also went to a concert. It was while we were resting behind the lines that we were entertained by the guards band one Sunday afternoon. It was a glorious sunny day when, all of a sudden, we saw a high velocity shell drop beyond us. The next one dropped short so we knew we had been spotted. I raced for cover and dived into a wheat land not knowing that it had been wired. The wire caught my breeches which tore very badly and I had 3 or 4 long deep scratches along my thigh. I managed to hide these wounds as I was dead off going back to the casualty station and being reported wounded again. A few days later we had inter sports meeting. All of the games were representative and I managed to come second in the 220 yards and won the shooting event. Met several of our pals from the other brigade. We also heard that the French had met with some success further down the line and for the first time, the news in the papers we managed to get hold of, seemed quite good. I remember we gave Colonel Blue a bit of a farewell. I got pulled up by the sensor about my letter home.
About this time the Prince of Wales made an inspection tour of our front and 18 of us from our battery were selected to be his bodyguard. We were with the Prince for 2 or 3 days and this had rather amazing results because when the Prince of Wales came to South Africa and opened the Royal Show in 1925, I fell in with a number of ex soldiers in front of the Maritzburg town hall. The Prince spoke to several of us and had passed me when he turned back and exclaimed ‘Where have I met you before?†I said I had been one of his bodyguards and he exclaimed, ‘Oh, now I remember you,†and he shook hands with me and wished me well. That afternoon I was one of the stewards in the produce section at the show and before he opened the show he made an inspection of all the exhibits. Again all of us judges and stewards fell in at the entrance to our shed. He passed me again, then turned back and said, ‘Oh, so we meet again!’ This shows what an amazing memory the Royal Family have for faces because in the meantime he must have seen thousands and spoken to thousands and thousands of people.
By the time we got back to our guns he had moved again. We were given new sleeping quarters. This meant laying miles of new cables to the new observation post. Five of us were in a very nice kaya and it was very comfortable and we fixed up our beds on wire netting bunks. The next few days we fired over 1000 rounds.
About this time I noticed a farmer plowing a land on a hillside facing German lines. I noticed he was ploughing in an extraordinary manner. One day he had a grey horse on the rear side and the next day the off side so reported the matter to our officer. He agreed with me that the ploughman was giving direction to the Hun balloons that were facing us about a mile away. We reported to head quarters and we heard afterwards that the French police arrested him for giving information to the enemy.
October 17th: Fritz still retiring. Spent morning at Carvan and looking around German dug-outs. Battery moved forward 10km and all very pretty and well cultivated country but landmines on road and some dug-outs had booby traps. On our march up to Mons in Varvel lines we passed a dead German with his hand over some barbed wire and a ring on his finger. This was too much for a passing Aussie who slipped out from the column and grabbed the ring. I heard a bang and heard afterwards that the live and the dead men were blown sky high. We had to make bridges or bypass the broken dozen or so, blown up by the now retreating Huns. Our ration lorries could not keep up and we were often without any grub. We finally got to Geneh on Friday 25th October and spent our first quiet day for weeks. We came under fire again on 5th November so Baker was ordered to go out and try to make contact with our forward observation post. Boyes, in spite of being off colour that day, went to our sergt. and asked him if he could not go up with his old half section saying â€Sergent, we have been together since East Africa and we have not been separated: can’t we do this last OP together? We want to die together.†That night their line went dead so Cecil Macdonald and I were ordered to follow their line as we did not know exactly where they had established their O.P. We followed our wires all through the villages and when we got to a house we saw, in horror, that our lines had disappeared into this blown up building, which was in ruins. Some civilians had got Baker’s and Boyes’ bodies and the strafing started again and kept up all that night. We all slept in the cellar. We were relieved at 10 next day and took our comrades bodies back to our H.Q., and Boyes and Baker were buried a few days later in Geneh cemetery. After Armistice I went back and took photographs of their graves and have very good photographs in my war album of theirs and Major Brydon’s gravestones. The next day we buried several more of our chaps in this cemetery.
We heard that Fritz had retreated again and, to celebrate the occasion, the old Madame where we were billeted gave us a wonderful supper. We even had a rugby match against the 71st battery whom we beat 12-0.
Next day, Sunday, we got news about an Armistice but we did not know exactly what it meant and we moved our positions to Lesdain. We had a glorious bath and did our washing, slept in the loft. At eleven that day wild rumors were flying around that an Armistice had been declared, but our hearts sank when some time that afternoon we heard artillery fire at some distance away. Some of us had hired bikes and we rode to Holldin. Tuesday afternoon when we returned from a long walk we heard that peace had really been declared. We just could not take it in and to me it was the most extraordinary feeling and was near tears one moment and then jumping for joy. We loaded the last of our ammunition. Akkie and R.W.T., (Mr Thornton) came over to explain it all to us later that evening.
Wednesday afternoon we all climbed into army trucks and spent a wild night celebrating in Lille, which was the capital of Northern France. I danced that night for the first time in my life and trampling on the poor waitresses feet whom we had grabbed after our meal. The Americans had already established a YMCA and we read English newspapers for the first time giving an account of Armistice. I have one of my letters written to my mother about this time, which explained our activities over this Armistice period. Most of our troops got blotto that night and I had a job getting some of my pals onto the lorry to go back to Lesdain, well after midnight.
We celebrated by playing more rugby and soccer matches against our S.O. brigade. Next day we moved our billets to Carvin and, as the weather was getting cold, we were glad to be issued with beds and blankets. They gave us route marches to keep us occupied and warm. Charles and Val Rubridge from Graaff Reinet visited us. We had fixed up a rugger field and had several matches, one against the 2nd lifeguards whom we beat 12-0. We attended lectures, one given by Lance Corporal and BCA (Battery Commander Asst), my old friend, R.W.T. He and Ernest Oppenheimer would not accept any rank and went through the war with one stripe each. Actually they had both been offered high positions in the war office in Great Britain, this was proved a few days later. An Australian brigade billeted not far away staged a strike and demanded to be sent home. Shortly after this we heard that they had gone home. This was too much for some of our gunners and some hard cases decided to have a show down. So we all fell in on our parade ground one morning but not one officer dared show up. The men were in an angry mood and demanded to see the O.C. Major T, who by now was most unpopular and dared not attend. Some men were getting quite out of hand and mutinous when Bombadier Thornton and Bombadier Oppenheimer stepped out to face the parade. R.W.T., in his usual quiet spoken voice and his usual smile calmly explained the position, how it was impossible to get transport and ships to move us all. Then Ernest Oppenheimer spoke and also explained the situation. It was like a damp squib to the parade. The result was the whole parade broke up and the men all returned to their quarters.
Our little group was billeted in a large double story apartment with owners occupying the ground floor. We attended lectures usually by Mr Thornton and we went to classes every morning. In the pm and afternoon we went on route marches or had physical jerks or played rugby. Of course, we signalers had to do exchange duty. A big brigade bridge drive was organized and Mac and I won a prize. My teeth, which had been bothering me for months, were extracted or stopped. I went for a walk whenever possible visiting our old “posis†and taking photos with my little V.P.K. (vest pocket Kodak) camera. As mentioned earlier, I have snaps of Hun pill boxes and blown up bridges and, of course, the graves of Major Brydon, D.S.O. etc. at N.E.U.X. les Mines. Also of Harry Baker and Leonard Boyes killed on 15th November, lay buried in Gneh cemetery. Also of Bombardier M.M. Brown and S. Terry killed at Les Dain on 7/11/18 in the American cemetery, and the grave of Capt. Albert Ball RAF showing all his medals from the V.C., D.S.O. and M.C., etc. etc. right down to the bottom of the cross; also the grave of an unknown soldier or, rather “’n unbekunde Engelsman.†This was a German artillery cemetery all beautifully kept. Unfortunately I was ill when I went on the South African war graves pilgrimage, visited the western front on 22nd June 1977, so could not find those cemeteries, but spent an hour at Vimy Ridge which was most interesting.
About mid December 1918 Mac and I had to assist carry 200 stretcher cases to the train on the way back to Blighty.
About this time I attended my first shorthand course given by Sergt. Groenevald. Somehow Mac and Bun Murray got on a Hansley Page sight seeing flight. Ralph and I and some other pals spent a very merry evening in Lille as he was going off to Blighty the next day and we were all feeling rather down.
Pocket money was very short all this time and some chaps stopped at nothing; as an example they sold the corrugated iron above the shed, housing our guns. Somebody had swiped a froggy’s bicycle and this was a really serious business and we all had to attend identification parades. We attended an identification parade the day before Christmas and I can remember all our bunch, except Maud and I, got very happy. Christmas Day we had a scrumptious dinner, officers and men all very merry. Next day we had our first fall of snow, so this made Christmas for us “rookiesâ€. After Christmas we attended lectures as usual. About New Year I went off on a mechanic course at Cysoing some 15 miles down the line. I also took French and shorthand. I got fixed up with a charming French family, Cormier Charles or Charles Cormier, as we would say. They could not talk English, and I learnt more French in those 3 weeks I boarded with them than the 9 months I had been in France. About mid January I ran back to Carvin all along the railway line, trotting along the sleepers - did the trip in record time. Found all my pals in billets and all had French damsels and I was introduced the first night to Mrs Gunner so-and-so and Mrs Bombadier so-and-so and Mamselle Cammy after Camerson.
We had a great ball about mid January, and what a party it was, as by now we had formed our own canteen and some of us who had a little cash took out debenture shares. We had a marvelous canteen manager named Nan-Carrow who was an amazing scrounger so we could sell Scotch whiskey at 5 francs a bottle, any brand. One franc in those days was worth about 10 pence.
By the time I went on leave in March with Murray and Macdonald we had each drawn our first dividends of half of what we had put into the canteen and left the original amount. A few months later when the Battery moved to Blighty we were payed nearly double what we had put in originally. This in spite of the fact that our Battery fellows got our booze at almost cost price.
The three of us had an amazing 10 days traveling all over England, and I visited my relations. Macdonald, who only had 10 days leave, had to return, so Murray and I stayed on. Murray got a 4 day extension but I had a week or so, as I did not want to stay alone in London, caught the same draft back to Calais. However, I decided to visit Paris before reporting to the Battery. I bought a rail ticket to Paris and got into a crowed couch with civilians and some Belgium soldiers. Before the ticket examiner came along about midnight, I put on a Belgium tunic and his cap and produced my ticket so all was well. Our train arrived in the Gar du Nordt about 6am. I’d been told the best way to get out of the station was to jump out of the train opposite to the platform. This was to avoid the red caps but I jumped right into the arms of a French policeman. I tried to explain that I had dropped something but he was wise to this trick and told me to report to the R.T.O. at the exit gate. The officer at the gate told me to wait, he would see me later. As I was trying to explain to him that I still had 3 or 4 days leave due to me but as a surge of passengers emerged, I slipped into the crowd and out into the street. I hailed a taxi and said, “Army and Navy Leave Club Place le la Concord†which was the only place I could think of in Paris. It really was a miserable drive as every car that hooted behind me I thought would be the army police after me. I walked into the Army/Navy League Club and, to my great joy, there, walking down the steps, were my half section, Murray and the two Rubidges from Graaff Reinet. It was amazing the difference being with pals. One just did not give a damn, and we spent four amazing days and nights in Paris going to see the Follies Bergere where there was a wrestling tournament.
What a night it had turned out to be when the main bought came on. A Yank versus a Froggie. The wrestlers really got stuck into each other and in no time it was a free for all; first on the stage and then amongst the public dining on the floor. Fists were flying everywhere and in no time all the glasses were broken and the chairs and tables smashed. Fortunately the four of us were seated towards the back of this huge hall so managed to slip out before everybody panicked. We spent most of the nights in Paris sightseeing including St Gervias Church which was hit by the first long range shell fired from about 70 miles away by a big ‘Bertha’. We also went over Notre Dame Cathedral and the Church of Sacre Coux on the hill overlooking Paris. One night we booked in on a ‘Paris by Night’ trip. Our courier was a chap called Uncle and I still have his card. We started off at some of the low joints where the girls were completely naked and did rather revolting tricks then on to slightly more selective places, then on to a peep show. We ended up at King Eddie’s ‘Paris Night ’ Club where the girls were lovely and wore thin veils. They sang and gave ‘Floor Shows’ as we would call them in Barbados. I was terribly embarrassed when some of the girls sat on my knee. I had never experienced anything like this. Here Uncle gave the nod for everyone who wanted to could leave the party.
When the two Murray’s official leave was up, Bun Murray and I decided to join them on the way back to the battery. They went to their battery and Bun and I reported to our office. Susie was on duty that afternoon. Susie asked Bun Murray where he had been as he only had a leave pass to Brussels. He must have guessed that he, Bun Murray, had been to Paris and not to Brussels so he, Murray, had to sleep in the guard room. My pass was actually a few days overdue but it had the London embarkation stamp on it and I said I had been held up in the Calais base, which could happen. I was ordered to report for duty the next morning. It was my job to
- [S172] Collett, Lynne, 12 Mar 2004, Part 3, lynne.collett@postino.up.ac.za.
When the two Murray’s official leave was up, Bun Murray and I decided to join them on the way back to the battery. They went to their battery and Bun and I reported to our office. Susie was on duty that afternoon. Susie asked Bun Murray where he had been as he only had a leave pass to Brussels. He must have guessed that he, Bun Murray, had been to Paris and not to Brussels so he, Murray, had to sleep in the guard room. My pass was actually a few days overdue but it had the London embarkation stamp on it and I said I had been held up in the Calais base, which could happen. I was ordered to report for duty the next morning. It was my job to bring Murray before the court. I ordered him to ‘cap off’ which was army regulation when a soldier came before the court. Bun was given two days C.B. - confined to barracks. It was my job to give him all the camp duties I could think of so, if he got slow, I used to prod him with my bayonette and sotto vox would remind him of his criminal offence. He could have killed me at the time.
A few days later I was on exchange duty and heard the Brigade Sergt Major ask Susie if any of our chaps wanted South of France leave. His reply was that all his men had had leave and were too broke to take any more leave. I waited a few days before going to the office and asked him if there was any leave going. He looked me up and down, and said ‘you have just returned from leave’. I pointed out that I was entitled to South of France leave. He told me to put in my application so, as my party in the Battery were all broke, and did not wish to take leave, I went over to 71 Battery and asked Akkie if he would join me. He jumped at it and so off we went to Paris again. Here we had to wire to our bank in London for money and that night our drafts for this, I think it was 1000 francs, came through but it was late to get the cash so we had to wait over until the Monday morning. As it turned out this was a wonderful stroke of luck because in the meantime the franc had its first devaluation so, instead of drawing R1000 we got R1500. The night before Akkie had a few hundred francs stolen from his room while we were in the bathroom. Of course, he could not do much about it but, with this windfall, we set off for Niece and booked in at an hotel there. A few days later we had arranged to link up with two Ozzies and go on a car trip to La Gras Perfumery in the French Alps. It was a magnificent trip and I still have snaps of this perfume town and the Pont de Loop Bridge.
While having lunch I found most of my money had gone. Now we settled down to work it all out. By putting things together we realized that I remembered that I had awakened up that morning to see a chap dropping and then picking up my tunic. We had to catch our taxi at 6am but I had time to challenge this chap who was never popular in the Battery and he said he had come to see if I was awake and he found my tunic on the floor but I did not think any more about the affair until it came to paying for our lunch at La Gras. We got back to our rooms quite late that night and, without telling Akkie, I slipped down the passage to find Favre’s room. He was asleep so I immediately jumped on top of him and, as his hands were under the blankets, it was possible for me to get my hands round his throat and I started throttling him as I was in a terrible rage, and hit him over the face with my fist. My skin is very tender and in no time there was blood flying everywhere, on the walls and on the blankets. When I saw the mess I panicked and the next thing somebody was pulling me off the man. It was Akkie who had come to the rescue. We accused him of all sorts of things - how he had cheated at bridge at the Battery and quite a number of things and the fact we had lost money in Paris when he came to our hotel. Of course, he denied this. However, we slipped back to our rooms and left early the next morning for Paris again and never saw or heard a word of him again.
A few nights before this incident I gave Akkie the slip and picked up a snappy mademoiselle on the road to Monte Carlo. She took me to her apartment which was a lovely house in the more selective quarters of Monte Carlo. It was a new experience for me but as we had constantly been warned about the dangers of V.D. I panicked and slipped out leaving a couple of hundred francs on her dressing table Akkie was waiting up for me when I got back to our hotel. He made me wash in strong Condys Crystals.
In Monte Carlo we met two delightful South African ladies who had retired to Monte Carlo. They showed us all the sights of the Riviera and arranged for us to visit the Casino but as no soldiers in uniform were allowed to place bets, we could only look on. Our two friends lived on the Casino and presented us with a little book in which every bet they had made at roulette was recorded. They said it was not luck but a study. They went to a Casino when the tables opened and only left when they closed down. They had a lovely home on the hillside overlooking the Casino and the glorious Monte Carlo Bay.
When we finally got back to Paris we heard that our South African Brigade had left for Blighty and we were told to report to a temporary base camp near Paris where we had to pass through some sort of delousing machine (see my letter home attached describing this experience) where our tunics and trousers were passed into a gas chamber and we had to go through a huge bathroom with about 20 men at a time. We were issued with a change of new under clothing and socks. Akkie and I were told to report to a de-mob camp near Brixhill-on-Sea. We were fortunate in having a lovely calm crossing, the best I had ever been on. We spent two or three days in London before attempting to find our base camp and only arrived in Hastings to be told to report to Perham Downs, the new demobilization camp for South African’s in Salisbury Plain near the small town of Luggershall. As we got to the camp the first draft of heavies was moving out and entraining for home. We did not mind, passes to London were easy to come by but we only got one rail ticket so we soon learned that if we got off the train at the stop just before Paddington and bought a ticket retained our free warrant and only our new tickets were taken away from us.
On our return to camp we got off at Endover the big junction, and bought a ticket to Luggershall. I think we made the trip to London 2 or 3 times in a month before we applied for leave to go to Ireland. We got our pink pass and return rail ticket from Luggershall to Cork. We had a comfortable night crossing the Irish sea from Fishguard to Rosslane and by train to Cork where we had to give up our ticket from Luggershall to Cork. Now we desperately wanted to see the lakes of Killarney and the Blarney Castle so we had to waggle our fares. This is fairly easy as none of the guards on the Irish trains knew exactly where Luggershall was and we spun the tale that it was in Northern England on the Scottish border. I had some very interesting photographs of us kissing the Blarney Stone and helping some fortunately South African nurses to do the same. We did this trip to Blarney Castle in a typical Irish Dog Cart (gig). We tried to go down to Limerick but there was a strike on down there so could only go up to Killarney where we spent two or three very happy days sight seeing all three lakes and getting to know some of the Irish lasses. Our uniform was very much like the British Tommy so we were not very favourably received as the old Boer War feeling was still running high in Ireland. After all, it was only a matter of a decade between the end of the Boer War and when we were in Ireland. Our technique was to follow a couple of lasses into a store or public place where we would talk to a shop keeper in a fairly loud voice telling him that we were South Africans. This was an open door to us right through Ireland if we told them we were South Africans as they thought a lot of the Boers and hated the British. One of the Irish superstitions came true as far as I was concerned because as we passed from the middle to the lower lake we passed under Fort Hope Bridge as it was said that if you washed out you would never suffer from toothache again. I had suffered a lot but from that day I never had toothache again.
We finally landed up in Dublin only to find a hotel strike was in full swing so we could not get accommodation anywhere. A lovely Dublin Bobby took compassion on us and invited us to stay in his house. He had an upstairs room which we accepted gladly and had a most interesting evening with this Irish couple and family. Next day we spent looking over the city and we were surprised to hear all about the Sackville riots of a few years previously and saw all the bullet marks on the walls etc.
Our next stop was Belfast. Here we were just as much at home as we had been anywhere and the Irish in the North really made a fuss of us when they realized we were not British but South Africans. On one trip when we had gone to the top of the hill overlooking the Irish Sea and the Isle of Man we got talking to a couple. They insisted on taking us back to Belfast in their car; they paid for our hotel bill and insisted we stay with them. I used to correspond with this family for years after we returned to South Africa. Now we felt we could not leave Ireland without seeing the Giants Causeway. We decided to make that lovely trip through this glorious country and saw them growing and working their flax lands. This was the only time we paid a rail fare as we could not bluff the Irish guards that Luggershall was to the north of Giants Causeway. It was here that we realized that we had not got much money left. We had been to the Curragh race meeting a few days before this where dear old Akkie got intrigued with a three card trickster and lost all the money I had made for us on the horses. I’d always been fond of thoroughbreds so knew them and we judged them solely on their condition and form. Next day we managed to jump a cargo ship sailing to Glasgow and got a sleeping place a way up in the very end of the boat below the anchor chain. It was a rough passage and by the time we reached the Clyde next morning, I was just about clapped. It was a Friday when we got to Glasgow but we had time to wire for money from our banks in London but this took a few days to reach us so all that weekend we spent on the Glasgow buses and trams going from the center of the city to the terminus or the end of every bus run. Mind you, the Scottish people we found were very generous and on this trip the passengers on the bus very seldom allowed us to pay even our penny, although we had our two or three pence which it cost in those days, in our hands.
While in Glasgow I visited the steelworks. Then the next day we went out to Harland and Woolfe ship building yards where we saw the plates which we had seen being rolled the day before at this Clyde Engineering works being hoisted into place. In those days Glasgow was a rather dirty and dismal place. So we soon beetled off to Edinburgh and had a delightful two or three days there. Our technique was to wait until the train was just about pulling out then rush onto the platform and produce our pass and free rail warrant. On this occasion I got onto the platform but Akkie, as usual, was chatting to some ladies at the entrance to the gate. The attendant at the gate examined his pass and said, ‘No fear, back you go. This is not your train; you will have to buy a ticket back to Luggershall.’ Well, we missed that train and had to get two tickets to the first place, I think it was Gretna Green or somewhere down the line in England. This we had to buy, of course. From there we had the usual technique and got onto the train and produced our Cork to Luggershall tickets and told them that Luggershall was in the midlands.
We finally got back to our base near Andover, and the whole rail fare right round through Ireland only costing us the matter of about a pound.
When we got back to base we found that nearly all the S.A.H.A. had been sent back home. And we were told to wait for a draft leaving about the beginning of June. We killed time by hiring bicycles and riding out to Stonehenge or to see Marlborough College. I was very keen to have a flight before returning home so we rode out to the big bomber aerodrome command outside Andover and hung about and eventually persuaded the pilot of a big Handey Page to take us on a night flight all over the South of England and over the English Channel. It was a bright, bright moonlit night an amazing sight to see the whole English Navy, returning from all corners of the globe and was tied up in Portsmouth harbour. On our return flight I noticed one of the engines, instead of being red hot was getting a dull grey and eventually the engine petered out. The pilot, co-pilot and a crew of about four, happened to be New Zealanders, so we knew we were in very good hands but we were getting a bit agitated as the plane was listing badly. Next thing they sent off a Ve y light and the whole plane seemed to be on fire, then another two bright lights, a signal of distress. The pilots knew there was an aerodrome in this vicinity. It was not a night flying drome so there were no lights on the landing strip. We seemed to come down at a terrific rate and next thing we felt crashes through the trees, then bump, bump onto the ground, where we hit a large incinerator. This stopped our run considerably and next thing the plane listed over as we had dropped into an old sunken road. I, like a rookie, thought this was a normal night landing exercise. The pilots all got out and I shouted to them, ‘Do we get out here?’ And a New Zealand officer was quite annoyed: ‘Not unless you’d like to sleep here all damn night’. By the time we got out there was an ambulance on the road not far away and we were all taken to what turned out to be a large Airforce Training Camp. It was quite an experience as all the flight men and engineers came crowding around us and it seemed as if we had dropped from the sky. They were all very inquisitive but treated us very well all the night. It turned out that in the moonlight the pilot had just missed the actual landing strip and we had gone into some of the sapling trees on the edge of the new forest. The commanding officer congratulated our New Zealand pilot and told us it was a miraculous landing in the circumstances and we were indeed very lucky to be alive. I have some very good snaps taken of our wrecked bomber. All during this flight we were standing in the bomb racks.
We had to get back to our base so hired a car to take us to Stowe, the big railway junction and then catch a train back to Andover. By now we were two days A.W.O.L. - absent without leave, but spun a good story and were let off but had to do guard duties for a few days.
We eventually got onto a draft sailing for South Africa about the beginning of June and we were very disappointed that we could not go to the derby as we had seen that a South African horse, entful voyage back home and arrived in Cape Town on 20 June and my discharge certificate was dated 23 June 1919, Maitland Dispersal Camp.
It was a rather overwhelming and awe inspiring reception I got when I arrived at Bethlehem and the Mayor, Mr Percy Goble (who happens to be my Uncle) and my family and most of the old friends of the family turned out to welcome me. I was so nervous I could not reply to the speeches of welcome. It was a wonderful relief to get back to Dunblane farm in the old Nash car. This trip took about 3 hours in those days. My first night at home was very uncomfortable as I had become unaccustomed to sleeping on a bed with a mattress, because for the last 3 weeks we had been sleeping on the bare decks as I could not stand a hammock. I had a few days rest at home and then I had to return to Grootfontein School of Agriculture to finish the course I had started before signing on in 1916.
Grootfontein Days
The government was actually very kind and gave me an allowance of £2.10.0 a month, which was quite good pocket money in those days. I found it very difficult to settle down and swot zoology, botany and veterinary science etc. etc. Douglas and I were still juniors but when the new term started in 1920, I was appointed president of the SRC for the whole of the college. Fortunately I had a wonderful secretary in Doppie van Ryneveldt who really did all the dirty work for our committee. It was one of the largest number of students they had ever had at Grootfontein as there were 32 of us seniors, another 32 juniors besides a special return soldiers course of 19, as well as 12 dairy students and a sheep and wool course of 14, so it was quite an ordeal being in charge of this mob, especially the returned soldiers, because included in this course there were several high ranking officers and men much older than the average run of agriculture students, so it must have been pretty galling for them to come under the discipline of a common or garden gunner and ex trooper, but they took it all in wonderful spirit and even agreed to being initiated, but here I had to draw the line and our principal, Mr. Thornton agreed. Only those dozen or so of us who were ex soldiers would perform the actual initiation and we did not subject them to the indignity of being crowned with the usual P.P. Actually there were a few tussles when they were ducked in the horse trough. Some of the juniors and sheep and wool students who were good rugby players put up a very touch resistance but my committee would not allow any tarring or very strong dip to be used. Grootfontein had an all time record number of students so we could field two excellent rugby teams.
Our zoology lecturer Mr. R. O. Vaal, was coach to the first team and our house master, Mr. Donkin was our 2nd team coach. The rivalry and sometimes jealousy was so great that Donkin gave a cup to be played for between the 1st and 2nd teams, which was a farce, really. However the 1st team only beat us by their kicking ability, as Johnny Writh put over 3 conversions for the tries they scored. We only got our 3 tries. The rules for this competition were changed so the cup had to be competed for between the different courses. Our 1st team won the Hepworth Cup and my second team pulled off the Piet Salach trophy when we beat Steynsburg in the final of the North Eastern Districts. At least 6 of our Grootfontein boys were selected to play for North Eastern Districts that year, much to the Middleburg clubs disgust. We also had a good cricket team and our tennis 8, which included the staff, was captained by Dr Turpin. I forgot to mention the fact that the four of us, Murray, Macdonald, Jeff Sacke and myself, who had started at the college in 1916 and joined the SAHA in 1917, made a pact that none of us would accept promotion of any sort as we did not wish to be separated. This pact was kept until the end so, when we came back to Grootfontein, Mr. Thornton arranged for us to be in the same gang on all practical work. The other members of my gang were Don Cameron, and Lilford who both went farming in Rhodesia after getting their diplomas. Douglas, my brother, Jock Schoeman and Ted King from Bedford, made up our party.
We were a very happy crowd. Probably I can say this was the best year of my life. Weekends, when we were not playing sport, two or three of us would ride out on our bicycles to different farms and Newdigate and I rode to Graaff Reinet and back one weekend over the Lootsberg Pass stopping at Kingall’s farm, Coloniesplaas, then on to Graaff Reinet and back on Monday. We both had 3 speed Raleigh bikes and did the 20 miles from the pass to the farm in an hour.
We were fortunate in having some very good lecturers and excellent practical instructors because, not being very bright at the best of times, I had to struggle to get back to swotting. However I would find that all work and no play would make Jack a very dull boy, so we arranged quite a few amusing pastimes. For one thing we had a fancy dress rugby match. Sammy Marks and Jeff Sacke were the principal movers for this show. Our sheep and wool officer, Sammy Nash, was one of the referees. The costumes were really excellent. However, the show piece for that one term was a “Mock Trial†which was organized by the students who dressed up one of the juniors in Miss Dell’s outfit (the only girl on the staff) and made a glamorous female. She palled up to one of the students who took her out several times, and finally led him to the mess quarters where some students were hiding, and promptly caught the pair. That night a court of enquiry was held in one of the main halls as a courtroom. The Judge and prosecutor were from the returned soldiers and defence council, one of our bright students. They really performed their parts very well as they had all been on court marshal in the army. It was quite a long drawn out case and the accused was finally convicted of bringing a female onto the premises. I shall never forget the look of anguish and disbelief when the lady was disrobed and the poor chap saw it was a hoax. He just could not believe that he had been courting a “fellowâ€. I had some very good photos of these two episodes.
The living quarters for all of us students were the old wood and iron barracks which the government took over from the British regiments when Grootfontein was bought by the South African Government as an experimental station and demonstration farm. The stables etc. were nearly a mile away. Mr. Thornton was appointed the first principal. A few years later Mr. Thornton, Jack Bowher and Frank Smith, (one of the first South Africans to win a gold medal for the 100 yards at the Olympic Games in Helsinki) were sent to North Africa to collect Barberry Ostriches. It was an amazing expedition running down and catching these wild long legged birds in the desert somewhere in Nigeria. They finally bought back 20, I think it was, of these birds down through the swamps and forests. Mr. Thornton told us the way he did it was to tie two or three birds tandem between two bamboo poles and march them all the way down to the ships. An account of this undertaking was described in the “Farmer’s Weeklyâ€, years ago. I can’t remember how many of these ostriches finally arrived at Grootfontein but they were immediately put into the breeding camps to breed and some cocks were mated to two or three females and kept separately. Now Douglas’s and Jack Schoeman’s appetites for eggs of any sort were insatiable and they couldn’t resist the temptation of swiping a few eggs when they were on poultry duty. They used to scramble or make omelettes in their rooms under of Miller lamps, which we had in each room. They found that the ostriches running in the large camp were laying so they used to go out at night on their bicycles with a mude sack hung on the bar of their bikes and bring in half a dozen or so of these eggs. One ostrich egg was about the equivalent of 18 to 24 hens eggs. One day there was a tremendous commotion and we were all called out and paraded on an identification parade. It appears that some of the very valuable eggs from the Barberry camps had been stolen so they had to try to identify the culprits, however, it turned out that Douglas and Schoeman were not implicated in this racket, and what a relief it was for them when it turned out that these Barberry eggs had been swiped by some of the apprentices who worked on the farm.
Douglas and I were very relieved when we were handed our diplomas at the end of the year. The thing that gave me the greatest pleasure in my life was when I was handed the Award of Merit, which is a Gold Medal, and the decision to present this to me was made by not only the staff, but by all the students who were at the college that year.
Culmstock Farm
After a holiday at home, I returned to work for my old Captain, Charles Southey, and his father, Senator Charles Southey, at the famous Culmstock Farm. This was a wonderful experience for me. We had only bred ordinary old Boer riding horses at Rynheath and the Culmstock thoroughbred stud was known throughout the country and it was said that Senator Charles was one of the best breeders of racing stock and he had the instinct to pick a stallion which bred racers. It was while I was there that that wonderful sire Catrail died of what was thought to be colic at the time but it turned out afterwards that it was one of the neighbouring grooms who did it for spite. I can remember sitting up all night with that grand old sire. That year the Southeys sent, I think it was, seven yearlings to the yearling sale in Johannesburg and the Culmstock Stud averaged top price and sold Brown Ronald for a record price for those days, I think it was 650 guineas. The old Senator had to attend parliament quite often which meant old Mrs. Southey was alone so I had to sleep at the old homestead. Besides race horses, the Southeys also bred mules, and had one of the best Catelonion Jacks imported from South America. This animal was the bane of my life. We had to see that it did not get into the camps where the foals were. Donkey Jack would chase and kill a foal if not checked. Training these young mules was a most exhilarating and exciting job, I think one of the greatest pleasures a young man can have is to drive 4 mules in a cart and I had to do this twice a week when I took the cream to Southwell siding about 6 or 7 miles from the farm. It was very tempting to drive full out through the several drifts on the way back from the siding. The Southeys were very good and allowed me off for rugby most weekends. When I was selected to play for Middleburg town, our old rivals, as it happened, I got into the first team and had hardly ever played for the first Grootfontein team so when we beat the college and won the local cup, it was a great joy to me. Playing against Ramo Barry, Simonds and Charles Mundell my old rivals for the 1st team colours.
There had been no shooting or culling of springbok on Culmstock which was really an enormous farm even by the standards of those days so when we had our first shoot and 20 to 30 or so guns were invited from Middleberg and surrounding districts we would get a bag of well over 100 buck at the first shoot. Subsequent shoots were almost as good throughout the first season. The worst part of these shoots was the number of wounded buck, and it was my job to take a spider and with a few Hottentot riders, to round up and shoot the wounded springbok. The first day out I think I got 20 and had to leave them on ant heaps or over rocks for the cart to pick up. There was not much pleasure riding after these wounded buck and putting them out of their misery.
During the war a number of these wild ostriches had brought out chicks and it was quite an exciting job to catch these chicks before they got too big and it was then I found what amazing camouflage they would have and it meant very fast riding up to hens which you knew had chicks and catching them before they spread out because, as soon as a hen saw any body approaching, they would signal to the chicks by clicking their wings and the chicks would drop down and be perfectly still, until you almost trod on them. We carried them in bags slung across the saddle. These wild, half grown birds were a sore trial when it came to bringing in the ostriches for clipping or for quelling later on as, as soon as you got 40 or 100 birds near the house, something would scare them and these half grown birds would run away and nothing would stop them. I often had to try and shoot one of these flying birds when running past me at probably 60 mph. As a matter of fact, it proved almost impossible to bring them down as a bullet would go through their bodies and not really kill them at the time and we would find them a few days later. It really meant a hard days riding from sunup to sun set.
Charles’ wife who was Gielana Cloete, of the Alphen Cloete’s, had her first baby about this time and I was sent of in the old ford car, the T model, to get a doctor. This meant driving the 22 odd miles to town and those days it meant opening almost the same number of gates. This old ford was apt to creep forward when you did not stop the engine so, at each gate, I had to stop the car, jump out, open the gate, get back, crank the car and then drive through. It meant repeating this at all gates on a slope, the same operation, because it was a crime to leave any gate open on those Karroo farms. On the way, however, I took my wonderful fox terrier who would stand up between the light and bonnet of the car, and, when we saw a hare in front, I would slow down and he would jump off and catch the hare. I arrived at Middleberg with, I think it was about 20 hares, and put them on the market which paid for my petrol that night. When I got back to the farm with the doctor just in time as Mrs. Southey had a lovely daughter.
As it happened, I was very keen on chess, but the only player around about was Mr. Sandy from Bredar of Temple Farm a neighbour of ours along our Eastern Boundary. He, like Varkenskop, was out of bounds to me as there was still this old feud between these three families, so I would have to do my visit secretly and ride the two miles to the boundary, tie my horse, and slip through the fence. We would meet in his loft and have some wonderful games up there without anybody finding out. The ride back was always a bit of a problem, so, if anybody saw me coming home, I would have to tell a bit of a white lie and say I had been out spring-hare hunting.
The Oscar Southey’s at Varkenskop were our near neighbours but, here again, I had to make very secretive visits. Incidentally, they had a charming daughter, which meant it was well worth the risk of being found out. Eleanor Slater married Kelly Paterson who had bought Temple Farm and was breeding Guernseys.
I was a frequent visitor to the Lovemores up at the source of the Thebus river. They had some good shoots, and plenty of guineafowl on the farm. When I bought my first 4 pedigree and 4 grade Red Poll cows and a bull from the Quins at Bishop’s Glen near Bloemfontein, I arranged with Mr. Lovemore to run my cattle with them until I decided where I was going to farm. It was here that my first pedigree calf was born but the mother had calved in the veld and for two weeks we could not find the calf until, one weekend, I asked them to keep the cow in the kraal and I was up early and let the cow out and followed it very secretly because she was very cunning about this calf. However, with luck, I found the calf in a clump of thorn trees and took it home. This calf turned out to be the making of our future Red Poll herd and I called her “Betty†after one of the Lovemore girls.
Charles Southey was a wonderful boss and we got on very well and he increased my war grant from £5 to £10 a month. I was actually quite sad when I got a telegram from my Dad in Maritzburg. He and Douglas had bought a farm out near Umzimkulu called, ‘Hancock Grange’ and I must return as soon as my notice to leave had expired. Douglas, in the meantime, had been working for a Mr. Harvey Greenacre near Mooiriver. Mr. Greenacre let Douglas off and he and Dad went down to see the farm at the end of June and decided to buy it. They paid to the Cape ran right through the farm. A narrow gauge railway from Ixopo to Umzimkulu ended at Madonela station on the farm. This proved to be a great asset when it came to loading 1000 or so bags of mealies and sending off our cream etc. I arrived about October so it was a wild scramble to buy oxen and implements to enable us to get our first crop of mealies planted. The lands had not been worked for a year or so and some of the black lands along the river had bur weed that was much taller than I was and the ground was covered with the bur seed. It actu
- [S172] Collett, Lynne, 12 Mar 2004, Part 4, lynne.collett@postino.up.ac.za.
It actually took us several years to get rid of the infestation of this bur weed.
When the natives on the farm and surroundings told us that this farm had never been inherited by a son we actually scoffed at the idea but how right this old superstition proved to be, as while we were still in partnership, Douglas had three daughters and I had two. It was only after we had decided to break the partnership that I had my son, Brian Hedley. In the meantime my 9 Red Poll arrived from Bloemfontein and this was the nucleus of our future pedigree herd of Red Poll cattle. However, we managed to buy about 30 very high class dairy shorthorn cows from up country and this started our dairy herd. Douglas took over all the dairy work including the slaughter cattle, and I was in charge of all the agriculture on the farm. We got on very well together and very soon “The Grange†was entering produce and cattle at the Ixopo and Royal Shows and it was a proud day when we were awarded the prize for the most outstanding farm in the Natal Midlands section and I think the first farmers tour from the Eastern Cape visited “’The Grangeâ€. We were also delighted when Betty, the heffer, born at the Lovemores won the milking competition at the Ixopo Show against some of the best dairy shorthorns, Ayreshires, and Devons, and the calf from this cow won the prize for the best two tooth bullock beating General Arnott’s shorthorns and Harper’s Aberdeen Angus.
The outbreak of East Coast fever in East Griqualand about the middle of 1920 set us back a lot and we nearly lost the entire span of oxen when they dashed into the Umzimkulu which was in full flood. This happened after we outspanned them on a very hot day. In trying to stop them crossing the river, I nearly drowned and only saved myself by hanging onto willow tree branches. The closure of the border also meant that we could not send our wagons through to the location to sell mealies there at £1 a bag when we were only getting about 10/- at home or on rail at Madonela. We could not get yellowwood beams from John Nimuck who had pst saws in the Ingele forest. We had just started building a very large mealie shed to hold 2000 bags on the cob and extending our long front verandah. When completed this verandah could take over 50 dancing couples. “The Grange†being the nearest farm to the Umzimkulu village, meant that whenever there was anything special on, nearly all the farmers from the surrounding farms used to come to us for dinner that night. We had an amazing cook, Mesol, who could prepare ……..
Carry on from here on new number 5 in recorder.
- [S449] Collett, Joan, "A Time to Plant", 11 Apr 2003, p129.
On Jan 18, 1959, James wrote: Left home today for the Kowie with my sick son, William. While they were travelling down, James junior was married in Grahamstown Commemmoration Chapel, Grahamstown, to Mary Simpson by the Rev (William) Impey.
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