THE danger threatening the Kilima Njaro country appeared to me to be by itself a sufficient reason for rapidly moving the troops back to the vicinity of New Moshi after the decisive success of Tanga, which in any event could not be further exploited. The joy of the Northern settlers, who, it should be noted, had furnished the bulk of the Europeans who fought at Tanga, was indescribable. The first train, which carried the European Company, returned to New Moshi bedecked with flowers. I myself had still enough to do at Tanga, and did not follow the troops to New Moshi for several days, where Headquarters was reopened. Shortage of personnel prevented us from having separate people for each duty. Officers of Headquarters had sometimes in an emergency to act as riflemen or cyclists, the Intendant occasionally did duty as an orderly, the clerk went into action with a rifle and acted as orderly in battle. The work was greatly facilitated by the fact that the railway station, constructed on European lines, afforded us accommodation which, in spite of being rather small, enabled us to settle most matters affecting the Staff only by word of mouth. We had good telephone and telegraph installations, and were situated centrally as the telephone and road systems, which we had either made or perfected, and which led out in both directions towards Tanga, Taveta, East Kilima Njaro, West Kilima Njaro and Longido, as well as to Arusha. Sometimes the work would go on for a week at a time almost as in peace, although the volume of work to be dealt with was greater. But although hardly anybody at Headquarters was either trained or prepared for his functions, harmonious and successful co-operation was secured. It was based upon the best spirit, devotion to the cause, and the support of good comradeship.

I myself went by car—for we had made a motor-road right up to Longido Mountain—to the Engare-Nairobi (cold river), a small stream rising on the northern slopes of Kilima Njaro, and flowing between it and Longido through the prairie in a north-westerly direction. In this country a number of Boer families were settled on farms. Kraut’s detachment had moved their camp there, as their supplies, if they had remained on Longido Mountain, would have had to make a two-days’ march across the prairie, where they could not be protected, and were, therefore, too uncertain. I satisfied myself that there was at this time no opportunity for any enterprises north of Kilima Njaro, and returned to New Moshi. The distance from New Moshi, where we collected a large proportion of the supplies coming from Usambara and the country further south by rail to Taveta, is thirty miles. Although we had available only a few motors, namely, three cars and three lorries all told, they were in the circumstances a considerable help. The road being well made, the three-ton lorries could do the trip out and back in one day in dry weather. As carriers took at least four days for the same journey a calculation showed that one lorry could do the work of six hundred carriers, who required subsistence in addition. The principle, later maintained by the English, of replacing carriers and pack-animals by mechanical transport, is further supported by the fact that men and animals suffered severely from tropical diseases, whereas mosquitos are powerless against automobiles. We, however, could not derive full benefit from this advantage, since we had so few motors. Even in this period, which, as far as transport was concerned, was one of quiet and regularity, we had constantly to fall back upon carriers. To this day I remember the joy of the Intendant when a column of six hundred Wassukuma carriers arrived at New Moshi from about Muanza; they brought rice, which was urgently needed, from Lake Victoria, via Kondoa-Irangi to Kilima Njaro. If one remembers that this march required at least thirty days, that the carrier needs one kg. (two lbs.) of food a day, and that his maximum load is twenty-five kg. (fifty-five lbs.), it is clear that these marches have to be arranged with great care and directed through well populated and fertile districts if this method of transport is to be of any value. If, in spite of these disadvantages, carrier transport had to be resorted to on a large scale, it only shows up the supply-difficulties we had to contend with. The Intendant, Captain Feilke, was, however, a past master in handling the men and looking after them. The carriers felt that they were well cared for, and the word “Kommando,” which some of them took as a personal name, became quite common. I myself was able, by means of the motors, to carry out many reconnaissances and inspections of the troops. I could reach Taveta, to which place some of the troops from Tanga returned, in two hours from New Moshi; this would otherwise have taken four days; later on I drove in one day from New Moshi to the Engare-Nairobi, round the west side of the whole of Meru Mountain, and back to New Moshi, a journey which could hardly have been accomplished with carriers in less than ten days.

The success at Tanga called forth and revived the determination to resist all over the Colony.

At Morogoro, on the 26th November, the Inspector of Lines of Communication, Major-General Wahle, succeeded in obtaining the Governor’s consent to the defence of Dar-es-Salaam in case of attack. As luck would have it, this consent was given just in time. On the 28th, two men-of-war, a transport and a tug, appeared off Dar-es-Salaam, and demanded to inspect our ships lying in the harbour. Among others, there was the Tabora, of the German East African Line, which had been converted into a hospital-ship. As the English had on a previous occasion declared that they did not consider themselves bound by any agreement about Dar-es-Salaam, fresh negotiations would have been necessary every time we wanted to escape a threatened bombardment. Thus an endless screw was created. I now wired that the entry into the harbour of a pinnace, demanded by the English, was to be resisted by force of arms. Unfortunately, however, it had been conceded by the German civil authority, against my opinion, and the Senior Officer present at Dar-es-Salaam felt himself bound. The English, however, came in, not with the one pinnace which had been agreed to, but with several small vessels, and then proceeded to carry out demolitions on board the Tabora, and even took some of her crew prisoners. This made it only too evident, even to those who had hitherto been doubtful, how misplaced our previous compliance had been. Captain von Kornatzky was just in time to open effective machine-gun fire on the small English vessels as they passed out by the narrow English harbour entrance. Unfortunately, on this occasion, one of the German prisoners was also hit. The necessary defensive measures had simply not been adopted in time. This is a small example of the dangers and disadvantages that arise when, in time of war, the military commander is constantly interfered with in his decisions, and in the execution of operations which are in the nature of things inevitable.

And, after all, the subsequent bombardment of Dar-es-Salaam did no harm worth mentioning, for the damage done to a few houses can hardly be considered as serious.

During the time of comparatively sedentary warfare at New Moshi the material side of life was also pleasant. The Europeans, who mostly belonged to the settler community of the northern territories, provided most of their subsistence themselves; abundant supplies of rice, wheat-flour, bananas, pineapples, European fruit, coffee and potatoes, came in from the plantations. Sugar was provided by the numerous factories, and our principal supply of salt came from the Gottorp salt works, on the Central Railway, between Tabora and Lake Tanganyika. Many plantations devoted themselves entirely to supplying the troops, and, owing to the abundant labour available this change in production caused no difficulties. But the transport system had also to work at high pressure. The great road leading from Kimamba to Mombo and Korogwe, on the Northern Railway, was continuously improved, so as to carry the transport of the products from the area of the Tanganyika Railway and further South, to the North. On this line alone at least eight thousand carriers were continuously employed. It soon proved to be practical not to make the carriers do the whole distance of a hundred and ninety miles, but to distribute them on different stages. This made it possible to quarter them permanently and to look after their health. Experts in hygiene travelled up and down the road, and did what was humanly possible for the health of the carriers, especially against dysentery and typhoid. In this manner we established along this very frequented route permanent carrier-camps a day’s march apart, in which the men were accommodated at first in extemporized huts, which were later properly completed. Camp discipline was strictly regulated. In order to provide also for the many Europeans passing through, small houses with concrete floors were put up; and individuals were enabled to subsist on the supplies held on the line of communication, without having to burden themselves with provisions to last for a prolonged period, as is customary on journeys in Africa. The work on this line of supply was the object of constant attention. Both Europeans and natives had still to learn how to ensure the co-operation of such masses of men, and to understand the importance of order and discipline in the working of the transport for the health of all concerned.

At New Moshi Station both telephone and telegraph were working day and night. Where the whole organization had to be improvised friction was not altogether unavoidable. All the members of Headquarters were extraordinarily hard-worked. But we did have bright intervals during the strenuous work. The abundance of creature comforts enjoyed by the Europeans in the North was shared by us at Headquarters. We were literally spoilt by the number of gifts sent us by private individuals. If one of us travelled on the Northern Railway, on which in time of peace it was difficult to obtain a little food for love or money, he was now cared for by someone at almost every station. I remember when Lieut. Freiherr von Schroetter returned to New Moshi, very famished, after carrying out some very exhausting patrols in the country north of Erok Mountain. After having, according to normal ideas, been thoroughly well fed from seven o’clock till eleven, he shyly asked if he might have some supper. The next morning he started on fourteen days’ leave to his plantation in Usambara, in order to recuperate and attend to his business. After breakfast we gave him coffee, bread, butter and meat, to take with him in the train, and had warned the various railway stations to look after this completely famished patroller. So, after half an hour, the station guard at Kahe offered him another breakfast, at Lembeni the charming wife of the Station Commandant had baked him a cake, and at Lame he was looked after by the commander of the local Recruit Depot, Sergt.-Major Reinhardt. At Makanya the guard, Planter Baroy, who belonged to the country, brought him home-made chocolate and bullocks’ hearts—a fruit the size of a melon—at Buiko the hospitable traffic manager of the Northern Railway, Kuehlwein, who had so often entertained us in passing through, had prepared him a delicate meal. At Mombo, where the supplies from the Usambara Mountains were collected, and where we had established most of our workshops, our protÉgÉ was met by Warrant Officer Meyer, of the Navy, with a sustaining supper. But then we got a telegram: “Please do not order any more, I can’t eat any more.”

Although this continuous feeding shows a spirit of sympathetic chaff at the expense of the starving subaltern, it also proves, better than any theoretical dissertations, how intimately all classes of the population of the northern districts worked in with the troops, and how they tried to anticipate our every wish. This co-operation continued as long as the troops remained in the North.

Whenever duty gave us a chance we arranged for change and recuperation. On Sundays we often went out together near New Moshi for a cheery day’s shooting. Both carriers and Askari soon picked up their business as beaters, and drove the game towards us in exemplary order, with loud shouts of “Huyu, huyu:” “There he is.” For variety of game the country provided more than one would be likely to find anywhere in Europe: hare, various dwarf antelopes, guinea-fowl, several relatives of the partridge, duck, bush-buck, water-buck, lynx, several kinds of wild boar, small kudu, jackal and many other kinds of game abounded. Once, I remember, to my astonishment, a lion silently appeared fifteen paces in front of me. Unfortunately I had my gun in my hand, and before I could put up my rifle, which was on my knees, he had as silently disappeared. In the teeming Kilima Njaro country, and even more east of Taveta, our shooting expeditions provided a welcome increase to our meat supply. But in the main this depended on the cattle which the Masai brought us from the Kilima Njaro and Meru country, but which also came from far away near Lake Victoria.