Busy searching to see what the relationship between Lords Ardagh and Kitchener was, the word Baragwanath caught my eye. Specifically, the sentence
It was a cold winter’s eve in June 1900 when engine driver RH Baragwanath and his fellow Cornishman, Richard Williams sat down to dinner at Moss’ Grill Room in Central Johannesburg
Was this the man behind the naming of the now Steve Biko Baragwanath Hospital in Soweto, South Africa? Back in the late 1980s I had friends training as doctors at the hospital, then only under the name Baragwanath, and visited it on occasion – what an experience when contrasted with the ‘white only’ hospitals in the main towns. Yet, it was sought after by foreign doctors who wanted to train in specific injuries which were well-known to be local to the hospital. And as Soweto itself holds special memories for me – I was warmly welcomed with a shaking of hands by Godfrey Moloi as a youngster still at school at one of his sporting events where I was part of the first aid team.
I just had to look this up – was RH Baragwanath the man behind the hospital’s name and if so, what had he done? Alas, it was another Baragwanath who gave his name to the medical centre: John Albert. In short, according to the hospital’s website, John Albert after trying various ways to make a living during the gold rush in Johannesburg set up an inn, one day’s ox journey from Johannesburg, which became known as Baragwanath. Apparently Bara in Welsh means ‘bread’ and Gwanath means ‘wheat’. Eventually in 1940 when South Africa was needing more military hospitals for men serving in World War 2, it was decided to build on Corner House mining property close to where Baragwanath had been. And the rest, as they say is history – which you can read about on the hospital link above, including the Royal visit in 1947. Winnie Mandela was reputedly the first black social worker at the hospital in 1955.
So, who was RH Baragwanath who featured in Diana Rose Cammack’s The Rand at War, 1899-1902: The Witwatersrand and the Anglo-Boer War (University of California Press, 1990)? Well, he used to frequent Moss’s Grill Room in Johannesburg – there is a write-up in Henry Longman’s Progressive Johannesburg for some info of the time, although no photo of Moss’s by all accounts. He and his friend Williams were arrested with many foreigners in Johannesburg at the time, the name Baragwanath not recognised as British and were eventually deported, arriving back in Britain on the Braemer Castle in September 1900. They had been mistaken for ruffians, whom Milner and Mckenzie were clearing out of Johannesburg which had been occupied by the British forces in May.
And further digging shows there was a Baragwanath Airfield which closed down in the early 1980s. It was the home of the Johannesburg Light Plane Club.
And the relationship between Ardagh and Kitchener, nothing of note, other than that Ardagh offered advice on various areas Kitchener was also involved; not enough to feature in my forthcoming publication on K of K.
Carriers and labourers during the 1899-1902 war have not been recorded as readily as for the East Africa campaign:
90,440 (14.6%) in East Africa
In places where large numbers had died – Bloemfontein, for instance – the government took responsibility for the graves. To tend – even to find – where those killed in battle had been buried was more difficult, for ‘the number of small skirmishes … made the task of keeping each grave in order very hard, while the [frequent] necessity … of marching a few hours after men had been killed made even the marking of graves difficult’ (Lord Methuen, The Times, 14 October 1904)
I couldn’t help compare the two campaigns – descriptions in Thomas Packenham’s The Boer War being reminsicent of so many diary entries for East Africa. Methuen’s quote struck a cord too, leading to the conclusion that, if it was this difficult to keep track of so few dead in a relatively compact campaign such as that conducted in South Africa, the achievement in East Africa, where the fighting took place over a far greater area despite the territories being of similar size,* of those identifying and caring for the graves is quite remarkable. And it explains why we’re still finding names** of those who have not yet been officially recognised for their service on the African continent during 1914-1918.
* According to https://www.mylifeelsewhere.com Tanzania is approximately 947,300 sq km, while South Africa is approximately 1,219,090 sq km. Meanwhile, the population of Tanzania is ~54.0 million people (890,617 more people live in South Africa).
Going through some old emails, I discovered a link to the London Beer Flood of 1814. Why this was in my email collection, I’m not sure, but it’s provided a good reason to blog on alcohol and World War 1, not least in Africa.
Many a soldier has used alcohol to build stamina before ‘going over the top’ and into battle – rum rations being a feature of diary accounts especially when they’re in short supply. Other evidence (German) (French) of the importance of alcohol, rum in particular, can be found at British Pathe. The tradition of rum rations was finally ended in 1970 – initially it had been beer which was used, but rum took over because it took up less space, was cheaper and didn’t go off as quickly (economics always seems to play a role, although health and safety seems to be the justifiable reason given – at least for its ending).
In contrast, the Americans were not permitted alcohol and one of the inspirations behind Britain’s Defence of the Realm Act (DORA) was to control alcohol intake which it was believed was negatively impacting on productivity. To make the point, the King declared the palace alcohol-free (teetotal) and Kitchener supported it.
In East Africa, rum was rationed according to rank and role (search rum). Driscoll who led the 25th Royal Fusiliers (Legion of Frontiersmen) was teetotal, however, it was reported that his troops at Bukoba went on the rampage getting drunk in the process. Dolbey talks of the whole campaign being virtually teetotal for transport reasons.
It wasn’t just alcohol which played a part in the war: tobacco too was important. It even featured in ration quotas, although female nurses received cigarettes instead as noted in the Pike report into medical conditions in German East Africa, which also reported the following:
LINDI 2 November to 6 November 1917 Inspected No 1 African Stationary Hospital, Officer Commanding – Lieut-Col McGillivray, Indian Medical Service. Not on the whole a good unit. The Admission and Discharge Books are badly kept, Pack Store dirty (especially rifles). African and Indian troops receiving no Red Cross comforts, cigarettes, etc, as Matron (Miss Belcher, Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service) states she has not enough to go round more (p44) than the Europeans. We think this a wrong attitude on her part. We wired for cigarettes to Red Cross to be sent direct to Officer Commanding for the African section.
Finally, I don’t know of a monument to alcohol during the First World War, but there is one for the 1899-1902 war in South Africa: specifically to the Whisky Train.
One of my interests is the influence of the individual on the course of events, so rather than accepting a statement such as ‘the War Office decided…’, I will try and find out who exactly at the War Office made the suggestion which was eventually accepted. The same goes for ‘x won the battle’ – x being the commander, but there were many little actions taking place during that battle which could have gone either way. X, too, quite often wasn’t even at the site of the battle, having issued instructions via telegraph or command order. The classic case here is that of Horace Smith-Dorrien in England drawing up the battle plan for the battle of Salaita, which was approved by the War Office, Wully Robertson, on 26 December 1915, having to be carried out by General Tighe in British East Africa, now responsible to Jan Smuts who was still on his way to the theatre.
So, I was rather intrigued to come across this article on the Victoria Cross and how decisions made on the battlefield changed the way it was managed. This article raises some other fascinating little snippets to consider:
It draws attention to Lord Roberts making poor decisions during the Second Anglo-Boer/South African War of 1899-1920. All to often it’s Lord Kitchener and the battle of Paardeberg which is used as the classic example of poor battlefield management.
The impact of family connections – Roberts lost his last son, Freddy, at the battle of Colenso shortly before he arrived to take over command from Buller. Both Lord Kitchener’s brothers joined the military – one, Walter, serving under him in South Africa and the other, Henry, being sent to East Africa during 1914/5 to assist with recruitment amongst other things. How did having family connections in high places in the army affect decisions regarding promotions, awards etc?
The fair play and detailed considerations of the War Office when it comes to changing precident. This connects with the previous point – Lord Roberts on arrival back in England sought to ensure that Schofield, who had also been killed at Colenso, was awarded the VC rather than the DSO which Buller had recommended him for.
The objectivity involved in making award decisions – Ian Hamilton who was quite involved in the decision-making about the changes to the VC awards, had twice been nominated for one and on both occasions Buller had denied them.
So much, from one little article, although it didn’t hold the info I was hoping to be able to use… the search continues.
Captain Henry Peel Ritchie was the first member of the Royal Navy to receive a VC, for action in East Africa on 28 November 1914 at Dar es Salaam.
John Fitzhardinge Paul Butler (date of action 17 November and 27 December 1914) in West Africa. He later accompanied West African Frontier Force troops to East Africa.
The first military VC awarded in East Africa was a post-humous one – to Wilbur Dartnell who was killed (3 September 1915) having stayed behind despite being wounded to protect some of his men who had fallen. Background can be found here.
According to a list of VC winners on Wikipedia (not complete as only one WW1 East African listed), 8 VCs were awarded for actions in South Africa pre-1885, 3 in Rhodesia pre-1896, 6 Anglo-Boer War 1899-1901 – one of these is John David Francis Shaul who is buried in Boksburg, my hometown and who also served in Africa during World War 1; another is Alexander Young who, after serving in South West Africa, died on the Somme (the article incorrectly claims East Africa).
I’ve recently read two accounts of World War 1 in Africa – one a novel, Dust Clouds of War by John Wilcox and the other a memoir to be published in 2018. In both of these texts, the British Allied commander, South African Jaap (Jacob) van Deventer, has been referred to as Deventer. Both books are by British English authors who do not fully understand naming constructions.
I’m being a little harsh here – my dad had to correct me on the pronunciation of van Deventer’s name years ago. I used to call him “van de Venter” splitting his name in keeping with many other South African names: van der Merwe, van der Westhuizen etc. Put the “de” onto the “venter” and you have “Deventer” pronounced “dear-venter”. And I’ve been known to mis-pronounce other significant names too: Tighe (“Tie” for those wondering I used to call “Tigga”), Caligula (a little before my time, was pronounced “Ka-li-goo-la”) and of course Beit (should be “bite” rather than “bate”). These are easy mistakes for readers who haven’t hear the names pronounced.So, I suppose it is not surprising that authors apply what they know of one culture to another related one.
With German names, “von” is a title added to a name in much the same way “sir” is added to British names. It’s recognition and status. For the Afrikaans South African name, the “van” or “von” is part of the name translating to “of” or “from” and specifically being lower case “v” – van Deventer originates from the Dutch for someone from Deventer in Overijssel (Ancestry).
This means that when writing German names like von Lettow-Vorbeck the “von” can be safely dropped and we can talk about Lettow-Vorbeck, but we cannot do the same with van Deventer – it’s the equivalent of calling Smith, “ith”.
Another name Wilcox gets wrong in his account is Phillip Pretorius, Smuts’ lead scout. As many have done before, he incorrectly refers to Phillip as Piet. This is in the acknowledgements noting that Simon Fonthill’s escapades were based partly on Pretorius’ search for the Konigsberg. I’m also a little puzzled as to how men could have been involved in both the Boer War (11 Oct 1899 – 31 May 1902) and the Boxer Rebellion in China (2 Nov 1899 – 7 Sep 1901). There is a window between Sep 1901 and May 1902 but I’ve not come across anyone of note having moved between the theatres. (Please let me know if you know of anyone). Lettow-Vorbeck is often mistakenly said to have fought in both, but before he was posted to China, he was in the German War Office studying the actions of the Boer War to assist the German military.
Wilcox further makes the fundamental error of referring to the Smuts raiding into the Union of South Africa during the Boer War when he should be referring to Smuts’ raid into the Cape Colony. The Union of South Africa only came into being in 1910
Working through WO 132/21 on military intelligence from Delagoa Bay during the Anglo-Boer War, I came across the following figures of foreigners fighting for the Boers. The information, 19 July 1900, ‘was obtained from a well-informed foreigner recently arrived from Machadodorp; but judging by former information, it seems an overestimate.’
Germans and Hollanders – 5000
French – 2000
Russians – 1000
Scandinavians – 500
Italians – 600
Austrians – 600
Total – 9700
Diversity in war is nothing new and World War 1 in Africa was no different. In addition to the 177 micro-nations which participated in the East Africa campaign specifically there are references to Americans, Australians, Canadians, Scandinavians, Italians and Greeks. The numbers involved were not as great as those participating in 1900 but it reminds us that what might appear as a homogenous group invariably wasn’t.
Were these men mercenaries or professional soldiers? The definition of a mercenary is a person who is primarily concerned with making money at the expense of ethics, while a professional solider is hired to serve in a foreign army. Those who served in the Boer War and EA campaigns were professional soldiers although might not have received the training they needed to have.
Significantly, the Americans who served in the East African Forces and Legion of Frontiersmen did so at a time that the United States of America was neutral. The implications of this and the consequences at an international level do not appear to have been investigated. The Scandinavians generally were to be found in the Belgian Force Publique, many have been involved from before the outbreak of war. Many, however, were in the area enlisting to protect their territory or for the adventure. The numbers and extent of foreigners serving in the war in Africa is still to be fully determined.
In the centre of Cuba lies a town called Santa Clara. Here, the revolutionaries under the guidance of Che Guevara derailed a train carrying military equipment and soldiers. In memory of this event, a museum has been created using the train wagons captured on the day. Inside each closed wagon, a part of the story is told. Visiting this at 4pm, when we thought things would be cooler, proved how much we underestimated the heat.
A step inside the first wagon, was a step into pure airlessness and I couldn’t help my mind wondering to another train derailment – that by the Germans of the British line in Tsavo in 1915. And whilst writing this yet another sprung to mind – the derailment of the Whisky Train near Val during the Anglo-Boer War. The soldiers in all were in an unenviable position and stood no chance against those ambushing the train.
An intriguing feature in another Cuban wagon, one pock-marked with bullet shots, contained a section inside showing how the wagon was protected. A board was placed around the inside of the train and between that and the outer casing, sea sand was poured in. This created a protective layer which deflected the bullets as evidenced by the marks on the side of the wagon. It’s unlikely the trains in Tsavo had such protection but similarly, Batiste’s army hadn’t realised the value of having a wagon or two at the front of the train to provide a buffer for mines and to lure hidden gunmen into giving themselves away.
While there was much fraternising when the contents of the whisky train were offloaded, there was little in the Cuban scenario. Guerrilla fighting continued in the town as evidenced by the bullet holes in the walls across the road from the 1726 church. Apparently the rebels moved through the houses and scaled down walls from the second storeys in order to make it difficult for Batiste’s soldiers to hit them.
The final wagon was dedicated to the women who had served the revolution. Interestingly all the info was only available in Spanish – this was the case for all the wagons except the first overview one and those showing weapons and the bullet marks (is this what most English speaking visitors are interested in?).
One thing I found intriguing in all the places we’ve visited in Cuba is the absence of AK-47s – weapons of choice (used) by the Angolans and Umkomto uSizwe during the struggles in southern Africa. The rebels had very few weapons, hence the need to derail a supply train. But what was rather startling – with the Bay of Pigs incident was that the invading army (Batiste’s men) were using 1897 and 1903 US weapons: this in 1961 and it has generally been regarded that the 1870 black smoke rifles used in 1914/18 Africa were outdated! One almost got the impression that the Americans did not expect Batiste’s men to be successful and so set them up to fail with poor quality weapons. The absence of Russian weapons for use by the rebels suggests that this relationship only developed after Castro and the rebels were successful and by all accounts the derailing of the train in Santa Clara was the turning point which saw the rebels gather support and succeed.