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Iron-Chef said:you win a cookie
How come he gets a cookie and I get a set of non-existant steak knives I managed to kill myself with?
Victory in Natal
It had been nearly two months since General De la Rey had first set eyes on the British settlement of Ladysmith. Two months ago it had been a bussling centre of commerce and the major city within the British Natal Province. Now however there was nothing left of the town but black smoking ruins. Despite multiple attempts by the British to relieve the siege, culminating in the crushing defeat at Colenso, the Boers had been consistantly triumphant. The Boer war was quickly beccoming both a disaster and an embarrasment for the British.
The siege had been perhaps one of the most brutal in modern history. Despite the relitivley small number of British troops still garrisoned in the town, the Boer command in Pretoria had made the decision not to risk a single death in a head on assult of the town. As such for 38 days the Boer artilery had pounded the town unceasingly day and night, resulting in the populous fleeing to the relitive saftey of the mine shafts. In addition the only souce of water for the town had been clogged with dead horses and pack animals killed in the Battle of Ladysmith, perposfuly placed there by the Boer commander General Louis Botha, to spread desiese and plague in the towns defenders, sapping the last of their will to fight.
Now as General De la Rey rode at the head of the collumn of only 50 Boer soldiers, nothing and noone could be seen, the only sign of movement a pile of leaves and dust swirling in the late afternoon wind, making its way from one street corner to the next.
"You lot, fan out and search all outlieing buildings left standing, this could be an ambush" De la Rey whispered, uncounciously whispering, the absolute silence broken only by the snort from the horses, something was troubling them.
De la Rey continued to ride through the town, every now and again they would come accross a sign that indeed the town had been inhabbited, an old cart, a childs discarded doll, an old dog slowly nosing through a pile of refuse.
Suddenly he raised a gloved hand, signaling the collumn to hault. Slowly he sniffed the hot evening breeze, his years of living on the veld having honed his senses to a razors edge. Yes, he knew where he would find the people of the town.
At the entrance to the mineshafts the smell grew stronger, men had to shout and strain to keep their horses from bolting. It was the smell of death. De la Rey dismounted and slowly walked into the long shaft, stopping only as it opened out to a small cave through which flowed a small stream. The battle-scarred General gaged, and quickly folded a handkerchief over his mouth and nose. Behind him many of the less harded soldiers were bent double, retching as the smell and sight within the cavern became too much.
"My God" whispered De la Rey, "My God, what have we done"
Around the stream lay not hundreds, but thousands of bloated, rotting bodies. He could only surmise that desperate for water they had drank from the polluted tributary, and typhoid, dissentry and a host of other desieses had done their work. Men, women, children, soldiers. All had the courage, or perhaps thaught De la Rey the British stupidity not to surrender and instead they had died here like animals.
He quickly turned and signaled to the soldiers to get out of the cave.
"Douse the bodies in kerosine and burn them then bring explosives and seal the cavern at once."
Ladysmith had been taken, but at what cost?
"God have mercy on our souls, and may history not judge us too harshly" murmerd De la Rey as he walked back into the red light of an African sunset.
Already men were lighting the fires.
British Colonial Office, London, England
Joseph Chamberlain, the British Colonial Secretary and thus one of the most powerful men in the world sat behind his oak pannelled desk inside the Colonial Office in central London. He eyed the assembly before him. Two Generals, an Admiral and an advisor to the Queen of England and Ireland, the Empress of India and owner of a host of other titles to long and wordy to rmember, Queen Victoria.
Chamberlain sighed heavily before picking up a newly opened telegram.
"Gentlemen, I have terrible news, as of 0800 hours yesterday our last tronghold in Natal, the port of Durban, has fell to Boer armies led by the Genrals Botha and De la Rey."
There was a low whispering as the men infront of him slowly absorbed the news. Durban had been defended by a force of only 3000 men and had been cut off from supply for more than two weeks after the Boers surrounded the city. The majority of troop transports from Plymouth to the Cape would still take another week to arrive, and already it was too late to save Natal.
"Gentlemen, this campaign is quickly becoming a dissaster for the British Army, both in sheer casualties and in standing among the nations of Europe, we are being made to look the fool by a mob of farmers weilding pitchforks!"
Chamberlain had nearly yelled the final sentence and was on his feet, fists clenched on the desk infront of him.
"On the contrary My Lord Secretary", countered one of the heavily moustached Generals, "The Boers are not only well supplied but well trained, indeed reports from our defeats indicate that the Boers are able to field not only modern artillery but also Maxim guns in large numbers, they must have an outside supplier!"
The Admiral nodded gravley, "Any host of European nations could be supplying the Boers, they have gained huge popularity not only in Holland but in Germany and France as well for what is seen as their struggle against British agression, not to mention that every European nation has something to gain from a British defeat!"
"The Queen would like to stress we cannot risk an all out war with the powers of Europe, even if it is concerning one of our richest colonies, at least untill the supplier is readily identified, laying blame now would only steele European resolve against us."
The room quickly dissolved into a din of shouted arguments, Chamberlain could only slowly massage his throbbing forehead and hope, nay pray that the British reenforcements landing in Cape Town would be enough to solve this "problem" with the Boers before the fire expanded into a conflagration that threatened to plunge all of Europe into war.
In the end maybe they wouldnt, more likley it would be a stalemate, Britian couldnt really make effective landings, both France and Germany had larger land armies than the Brits, however the cost in lives would be terrible and even the British would be keen to avoid such a senario.
The Boers may win their freedom, but will their struggle have left enough places standing?
Paul Kruger, President of the Transvaal Republic, stood hunched over a large map, his most trusted advisors, Generals and of course the foriegn Prussian military aids clustered around him.
In the space of only two months, the prospect for the survival of his nation and the sister Republic, the Oranje Free State had gone from doubtful to strong. On all fronts, although especialy in Natal, the British were being thrown back by the Boer armies. The British had made the age old mistake of underestimating their foes, expecting to come up against a poorly trained and equiped irregular force the English Generals soon found themselves pitted against a hardened core of well supplied veterans, and the meager numbers of British troops sent to crush Boer resistance had been swept aside in a hail of Maxim rounds and accurate artillery.
Kruger traced a line with a sun-scarred old finger down the left side of the map and into Cape Town, raising himself from his stoop to address the men before him.
"Gentlemen, I do not need to remind you that now our campaign enters the most vital of stages, we have bloodied the British, but even as we speak troop transports are unloading an estimated 40, 000 men in Cape Town, and these are numbers we cannot hope to match in the long run."
There was a slight murmuring and a collective nodding of heads before one of the Prussians, a colonel, stepped forward to gaze over the map.
"President Kruger, thus far we have counted on the element of suprise and the overconfidence of our adversary to win the day, and sadly both of these elements will no longer be able to be counted upon."
Kruger sighed wearily, he had seen his fair share of warefare over the years and over the passed months the strain of commanding a nation in a do or die struggle against a foe superior in every factor had begun to take their toll. For the first time in his life Kruger felt like an old man.
The Prussian glanced up at the rugged leader of the Boers, eyeing him with respect.
"In better news our cause has rallied support all over Europe, while the Dutch and of course Germany have been long time supporters of the Boer Republics, we have gained an unexpected and most welcome ally in the French."
Again the room buzzed with conversation before Kruger motioned for the Prussian to continue.
"It would seem the ideals of the revolution and republic remain strong in the common Frenchman, as does his distaste for the Englishman, thus popular support has been mounting with every British defeat."
"Can we count on any form of intervention from these "Allies" on our behalf?"
The Prussian shook his head
"I speak only on behalf of Germany when I say we will not risk war with the British Empire, a war which could see us ruined and broken, however the British will be less than enthused with the prospect of German, French and Dutch intervention, however theoretical this may be, and we may well be able to use this to our advantage"
General Louis Botha stood and slammed his worn leather gloved fist onto the table, scattering the carefully placed stacks of markers, signifying British and Boer troop concentrations, his face flushed with rage.
"The British are on the run, we must press our advantage NOW!"
Kruger's face remained impassive, his tone worn yet neutral
"General Botha, we have everything to lose, we cant risk being hasty at this time"
"And you must be forgetting President Kruger that we have everything to gain, this is not a time for indecision, we push forward, we fight and we win, there can be no alternative"
In the space of only two months, the prospect for the survival of his nation and the sister Republic, the Oranje Free State had gone from doubtful to strong. On all fronts, although especialy in Natal, the British were being thrown back by the Boer armies. The British had made the age old mistake of underestimating their foes, expecting to come up against a poorly trained and equiped irregular force the English Generals soon found themselves pitted against a hardened core of well supplied veterans, and the meager numbers of British troops sent to crush Boer resistance had been swept aside in a hail of Maxim rounds and accurate artillery.
Kruger traced a line with a sun-scarred old finger down the left side of the map and into Cape Town, raising himself from his stoop to address the men before him.
"Gentlemen, I do not need to remind you that now our campaign enters the most vital of stages, we have bloodied the British, but even as we speak troop transports are unloading an estimated 40, 000 men in Cape Town, and these are numbers we cannot hope to match in the long run."
There was a slight murmuring and a collective nodding of heads before one of the Prussians, a colonel, stepped forward to gaze over the map.
"President Kruger, thus far we have counted on the element of suprise and the overconfidence of our adversary to win the day, and sadly both of these elements will no longer be able to be counted upon."
Kruger sighed wearily, he had seen his fair share of warefare over the years and over the passed months the strain of commanding a nation in a do or die struggle against a foe superior in every factor had begun to take their toll. For the first time in his life Kruger felt like an old man.
The Prussian glanced up at the rugged leader of the Boers, eyeing him with respect.
"In better news our cause has rallied support all over Europe, while the Dutch and of course Germany have been long time supporters of the Boer Republics, we have gained an unexpected and most welcome ally in the French."
Again the room buzzed with conversation before Kruger motioned for the Prussian to continue.
"It would seem the ideals of the revolution and republic remain strong in the common Frenchman, as does his distaste for the Englishman, thus popular support has been mounting with every British defeat."
"Can we count on any form of intervention from these "Allies" on our behalf?"
The Prussian shook his head
"I speak only on behalf of Germany when I say we will not risk war with the British Empire, a war which could see us ruined and broken, however the British will be less than enthused with the prospect of German, French and Dutch intervention, however theoretical this may be, and we may well be able to use this to our advantage"
General Louis Botha stood and slammed his worn leather gloved fist onto the table, scattering the carefully placed stacks of markers, signifying British and Boer troop concentrations, his face flushed with rage.
"The British are on the run, we must press our advantage NOW!"
Kruger's face remained impassive, his tone worn yet neutral
"General Botha, we have everything to lose, we cant risk being hasty at this time"
"And you must be forgetting President Kruger that we have everything to gain, this is not a time for indecision, we push forward, we fight and we win, there can be no alternative"
A Clashing of Views, General Botha and President Kruger
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The old battle, caution or prudence, daring or foolhardiness.
btw you need to check your images.
btw you need to check your images.
maybe the british will take advantage of this indecision and capitalize on it...KUTGW