9

The hippodrome

BEHIND SWAKOPMUND, looking upriver towards Nonidas, where flamingos wade in nearby shallow brackish pools, the Swakop River emerges suddenly from a black fissure in the surrounding desert. There are no public roads directly following the river course, but there are access routes to the river itself: one into Goanikontes and another further up the Langer Heinrich Mountain, which incidentally also marks the start of the grasslands. To access these routes today, one has to traverse a restricted zone. The whole section of the river up to and a bit beyond the mountain forms part of the Namib-Naukluft National Park. All routes except the three tarred roads out of Walvis Bay and Swakopmund and the direct route to Goanikontes require a permit.

Leaving the coast and heading east is a tar road, the C28. It lies some distance to the south of but parallel to the Swakop River. After some twenty kilometres, the gravel road to Goanikontes branches off to the left. The contrast in terrain is stark. The flat white surface of the Namib literally disappears into a deep black void of twisted rock. The gravel road drops and winds its way through this lunar landscape before popping out at the riverbed and the lush green grass and palm-tree foliage of the Goanikontes oasis. There is a welcome sign in German, a single-room farmhouse with the date 1903 embossed on the gable, and a pre-war haupthaus (main house) under the trees. The site is now a popular tourist rest camp and features rondavels, a campsite, a picnic spot and a restaurant. Almost everything, from the brochures at the entrance to the receptionist behind the desk, is German.

The name ‘Goanikontes’, however, is not. Of Nama origin, it apparently means ‘place to remove your coat/kaross’. A kaross is a furry cloak sewn from animal skins by indigenous peoples throughout southern Africa. The name indicates that this was a place where pre-colonial desert nomads could linger under the cool shade and water their small herds of fat-tailed sheep. The oasis supplied possibly the best water along the Swakop between the coast and the grasslands. It was therefore logical for Botha to choose to muster his commandos here before advancing further.

When the South Africans arrived, they discovered that the retreating Germans had poisoned the well with sheep dip.¹ It was a minor inconvenience, however; they simply dug another alongside it.

A historical booklet written in German and called Das Swakoptal (The Swakop Valley) is sold at the reception desk at the Goanikontes rest camp. A series of anecdotes on the history of the river, it describes all the farms and waterholes from Salem, a farm just beyond the Langer Heinrich Mountain, to the mouth of the river at Swakopmund, and includes historical information on Husab, Goanikontes and Nonidas. The booklet quotes an ‘Englische soldat’ (South Africans in the 1914–15 campaign are mistakenly referred to as English soldiers), who poetically describes his impression of the Swakop River gorge:

Through this extraordinary territory meanders the dry course of the Swakop River, between gorges of such awe-inspiring character that the voice is instinctively hushed at the terrible grandeur, as if in fearful expectation of a sudden encounter with the ‘Old Gentleman’ himself, armed with horns and trident complete.²

It is an apt description. The sun-blackened gorge has a hellish eeriness about it. It must have been harrowing for those soldiers marching upriver in the blazing heat, expecting to get shot at or shelled from the crags beyond at any minute.

The booklet also contains an old photograph of a hand-painted sign nailed to a tree. It plainly states: ‘Riet Farm. No. 30 registered on the 6th March 1913’, with the name of the owner written illegibly beneath.³ It was here that the Schütztruppe set up a defensive position in 1915.

By the time Botha resumed his advance in mid-March, the German defensive positions extended along a fifty-kilometre arc from the Langer Heinrich on the south bank of the Swakop, in front of Riet on the riverbed itself, north across the Husab Mountains, and ending on the heights of Pforteberg, a hill above the original but disused Khan–Jakkalswater railway line at Pforte Station. Still not convinced that the main South African attack was moving directly up the Swakop, Franke’s overextended units protecting the line of defence were woefully under strength. Still, the geographic nature of their defence line was almost unassailable. Almost.

From Goanikontes, Botha determined to occupy Riet. The 1st Mounted Brigade of 1 200 rifles under Brigadier General Brits would launch a frontal attack on the German position at Riet,⁴ while the 2nd Mounted Brigade under Brigadier General Alberts took the German defenders at Pforteberg in the north. Intelligence suggested that the Germans were skilfully using the natural defensive features around Pforteberg to observe their enemy. The only line of attack for the 2nd Mounted Brigade involved crossing flat terrain devoid of vegetation and exposed to unrestricted machine-gun fire. A night approach would be essential to avoid detection.

J.J. Alberts was the capable commandant of the Wakkerstroom (later Standerton) Commando. He had served under Brits during the Boer War and was a delegate in the peace negotiations in 1902. Like Brits, Alberts had served with Botha against the rebels the previous year. There is little mention of him other than that he was a man of influence, a member of Parliament and much easier to work with than the obstreperous Brits.⁵

The attack was planned for the morning of 20 March. On 18 March, Botha, Brits and Alberts left Goanikontes. At Husab, Alberts split from the others to begin his night march, moving north at 6 p.m. on the 19th. Two hours later, Brits proceeded east up the river to Riet.

The German defensive position at Riet was divided in two. While one group held the riverbed and the Riet waterhole among the castellated rocks to Brits’ right, on the left another group was ensconced on the heights of the north flank of the Langer Heinrich. Both divisions had well-positioned machine-gun schanzes with which they could enfilade the South Africans as they approached over the open ground.

By 6 a.m. on 20 March, almost all of Brits’s brigade, including his reserves, were pinned down. Before the attack, he had sent 300 men of the Bloemhof Commando under Commandant Bezuidenhout on a flanking manoeuvre to the south to attack the enemy position on the Langer Heinrich, but they failed to find a way through the jumbled rock and were forced to return to Husab. Typical of the independent-minded commando leader, Bezuidenhout did so without first reporting his failure to Brits, who waited in vain for the remainder of the day, hoping that the Germans on the left would be suitably diverted for him to advance further.

Having swiftly gauged the dire situation, Botha had personally hurried to Brits’s assistance and supplemented the reserve with his own bodyguard. He also safeguarded Brits’s four unprotected artillery guns.⁶ Moore-Ritchie, standing guard at one of the guns, describes the scene at the front:

At dawn in those parts conditions are bearable enough; the sun has little strength; the night wind refreshes. From 6.30 till 10 o’clock the desert is endurable. Then comes the change. All along the front the stark yellow sand is taking on a different hue under the climbing sun rays. It turns almost to glaring whiteness all around … And on either flank, well screened, little knots of men are grouped round the guns – and ‘Hampang-ky-yao!’ they go in our ears, their report carrying ten miles back into the desert where our transport hears them in muffled thunder. And look up as you hear that screeching whistle. The enemy’s shells burst in the depression behind us on both flanks ‘Pa-ha-ha.’ They look like slabs of cotton wool against the brazen blue sky. And all afternoon the heat strikes up at you overpowering, like the breath of a wild animal. Then the wind rises, and the sand shifts in eddies. Veils and goggles are useless. They can’t keep out that spinning curtain of grit. The horses rattle the hard, dry bits in their mouths, trying to get some moisture.⁷

It was the Transvaal Horse Artillery’s battery that saved Brits’s engagement. Situated behind the lines, their fully operational guns shelled the German defences with devastating accuracy, destroying an ammunition supply wagon and keeping the Schütztruppe hunkered down behind rocks. Conversely, the German artillery was an uncharacteristic ‘wash-out’ according to Moore-Ritchie, continually overshooting and never once finding their range.⁸ A stalemate ensued, which was actually in the Germans’ favour, as it meant the South Africans would have to soon abandon their positions and retreat back to the waters of Goanikontes.

The attack would have been thoroughly checked had Botha committed his entire force to Riet, but by combining the frontal attack with another of his renowned sweeping night marches, the wily general managed to outmanoeuvre the Germans once again. While the South African and enemy forces took turns shelling one another in Riet, the 2nd Mounted Brigade under Alberts’ capable leadership took Pforteberg completely by surprise.

During the night march, Alberts had split his brigade into four columns: a right wing under Colonel Commandant Badenhorst was to move south of Pforteberg, a left wing under Colonel Commandant Collins was to ride north for sixty-plus kilometres to block a possible retreat and any reinforcements coming from Franke at Usakos, and two commandos – Ermelo B and Standerton B – were to peel off from the latter and attack the ridge at Pforteberg. Alberts, following Swart’s Scouts, would make for the nek or saddle that dipped between the Husab Mountains and Pforteberg.⁹

In the dim light of dawn on 20 March, the Standerton B and Ermelo B commandos approaching the ridge came under heavy artillery fire. To their right, Swart’s Scouts executed such a rapid advance that they completely surprised the Germans on the nek. Thanks to some quick thinking by Alberts, who immediately pushed forward two of his own commandos to reinforce the scouts and outflank the German artillery, they were able to exploit the position. The Germans responded with machine-gun fire from the heights, but, owing to the dust kicked up by the charging horsemen in the dawn light, they failed to hit their targets.

Badenhorst in the meantime swept in from the south-east at full gallop, forcing the artillery units firing on the Standerton B and Ermelo B commandos to take up new positions. In fact, they had to rotate their guns 180 degrees to do so, an action that allowed the two commandos to press home their attack. They were able to secure the northern section of Pforteberg, as well as the old railway line at Pforte Station.

The speed of the South African attack on Pforteberg was startling, a typical display of commando swiftness that arguably set the tone for the rest of the campaign. Within a short time the Germans faced an attack from all directions. But the dust from the hooves of hundreds of charging horses also played havoc with the South Africans. When the commandant of Standerton B, Piet Botha (no relation to the prime minister), gained a ridge, he thought that since the guns below were firing east and therefore in the opposite direction to his position, they must be his own. As the haze prevented him from seeing much beyond the ridge, he quickly descended to them to obtain a better picture of the battle. He only realised his mistake when he rode right in among the German artillerymen. He managed to avoid capture with some inventive fast-talking, aggressively demanding an interview with the German senior artillery officer, whom he told to surrender. Upon being formally refused, he was allowed to rejoin his men, and the fighting continued.

It did not continue for long. By 8:30 a.m., just a few hours after the guns had first roared into action, the Schütztruppe discovered they were completely surrounded with no option but to surrender. Nine officers and 200 other ranks, plus the artillery guns, fell into Alberts’ hands.¹⁰ A dozen each had been killed on either side, but it was a resounding victory for the South Africans, as it had the knock-on effect of forcing the Schütztruppe pinning down Brits and Botha to immediately abandon their positions because they were now in danger of being outflanked by Alberts. That night, all German units still operational in the area retreated north towards Franke and the main German body, who were still peering expectantly down the Karibib–Usakos–Swakopmund railway line for the main South African attack.

Thanks to remarkable high-speed manoeuvring, Alberts’ mounted commandos capture the bulk of the German troops holding the important Pforte–Riet line

Alberts’ men and horses were completely spent after the arduous night march and the high-speed dawn attack. Unbeknown to the Germans, there was no way the South Africans could have rescued Brits and Botha. Furthermore, had the German reserve units, which were based at the nearby farm of Modderfontein to the east of Pforteberg, come to their besieged countrymen’s aid, Alberts may have found himself in trouble. Luckily the reserves were distracted by the sudden appearance of Collins with the brigade’s left wing on the old railway line near Jakkalswater, some kilometres north-east of Pforte Station.

Collins had reached the railway line east of Pforte at 5 a.m. and advanced towards the station at Jakkalswater. By 6:30 he had occupied Jakkalswater, but had drawn the attention of the German reserves, who attacked in full. As usual, the Schütztruppe trained their guns on the horses, killing so many that forty-three of Collins’s men were captured because they could not ride away with the others after their commandant called a retreat.¹¹

It was a minor victory for the German reserves – they had successfully secured the line of retreat for their men at Riet – but the diversion cost them the entire hold of their defences. For Collins, the action and subsequent withdrawal in the face of the reserve units could have been a lot worse. His commandos nearly came to further grief as they retired back along the line towards Pforte, when Badenhorst’s men mistook them for the enemy and consequently opened fire. Thankfully, the friendly fire ended timeously before any casualties were inflicted.

Thanks to the collective actions of the four columns of Alberts’ 2nd Mounted Brigade, Botha was able to occupy Riet and the supposed swathe of good grazing beyond. Unfortunately, the reports proved incorrect. Even though the Swakop River had been in flood for the first time in living memory the day Botha landed at Walvis Bay, there was only a semblance of grass left. The prime minister was forced to send his two exhausted brigades back to Swakopmund for some much-needed rest, leaving an infantry garrison of 600 men and a mounted commando under Colonel Wylie to hold the line and conduct further reconnaissance. Once again, Botha would have to wait for supplies, fresh horses and mules; and once again it was another frustrating five-week delay before he could take to the field to make good his gains.

It was Alberts’ high-speed cavalry action at Pforteberg that led to Franke’s ‘This is not a war; this is a hippodrome’ outburst, during which the German commander realised his error: that Botha was coming up the Swakop River, not the railway line.