3.2 The outbreak of the sa war (1899 -1900)  (Page 2/2)

The General taps his riding whip against his riding breeches contemplatively. He knows that Danie Theron arrived in the lager from the Natal border the night before – Captain Danie Theron – and he is assumed to be a master scout… This would be an opportunity for the young Transvaler to show what he can do. General De Wet sends for him.

“I want to send a message by word of mouth, captain - to general Cronjé,” says the General. “It cannot be put down in writing, in case it falls into the hands of the English. Would you be prepared to carry it?”

“I'll go, General.” Danie Theron's answer is resolute.

“You know the danger involved, of course?”

“It's my job, General. I am a scout.”

The General unfolds his plan.

“Right, General.”

Danie Theron and two of his men ride towards the English lines to reconnoitre from a safe distance. He is the leader of the Cyclist's Dispatch Rider's Corps. When they can, the corps makes use of bicycles because they can travel faster by cycling along a good route than by travelling on horseback. The captain observes the English divisions until he has seen enough. Then he hands his bicycle to his men.

“Meet me here tomorrow night,” he says.

“We'll do so, captain. Go well!”

The two men ride off, and Danie Theron is left alone. He waits for darkness to fall. His plans are laid: He wants to get through while the evening is young. The English sentries might be less alert than during the quiet small hours of the night.

The sun sets. When it is deep dusk Danie Theron cautiously approaches the English campfires that glint like a many-eyed monster lying in wait around the trapped Boers.

When he is some hundreds of yards from the campfires he has to sink down into a crawl because the veld is bare and the enemy might see him etched against the lighter expanse of the sky. Thorny bushes tug at his clothes and his hands. Sharp stones cut into his knees. He is so close to the English sentries that he can see them walk up and down, with rifles to their shoulders; walking two by two towards one another, then making a right turn and walking back.

The scout shelters behind some scattered rocks to consider his next movements. He could rise and run when the two nearest sentries are furthest from one another, and hope that they miss if they shoot at him. But that might set the soldiers in the main camp further on his trail. Or he could rush at one of the sentries when he was halfway from his mate . . .

Soundlessly Danie Theron slithers over the dark ground until he is a foot from the path of the sentries. He waits motionlessly. The soldiers do their right turn and walk apart. The hidden scout watches every movement of the man who is walking straight at him. Five paces. Four. Three. Two. One. Like a shadow Danie Theron rises from the ground and raises his revolver threateningly. The Englishman halts in astonishment. “If you make a sound, you're a corpse,” Danie Theron whispers urgently in the sentries own tongue, because he is able to speak English like an Englishman. “Let me pass and you won't come to harm.”

The sentry hesitates and shifts his grip on his rifle. Danie Theron pushes the revolver into the man's belly. “Walk on as if nothing has happened,” he whispers once more. “I'm in a hurry.” It is clear to the sentry that he has to do with a man who will not hesitate to execute his threat. Without a word, he resumes his measured tread – slightly faster than before, because he has to make up for lost time, and it would be better to get as far as possible from this spot.

Danie Theron disappears into the darkness with long strides and then falls to his hands and knees again. He is past the first obstruction, but is not safe because the area is bristling with English soldiers, and another row of sentries is set up ten paces apart ahead of him. Danie Theron continues his crawl. Blood is seeping from cuts and grazes. His trousers have long since become tatters. Coarse sand and gravel penetrate his skin and remain stuck. Each movement means pain.

The moon rises and sets. The morning star wanes. A voice calls out “Werda?” and Danie Theron knows that he has arrived among the Boers. He has reached general Cronjé's lager.

FROM: P.W. Grobbelaar (e.a.) : Heldeverhale

Assessment