NationStates Jolt Archive

The year is 1900 A.D. In southern Africa, the second Anglo-Boer War is entering it's second year. Despite many early successes against the British, the Afrikaner republics of Transvaal (also called the Zuid Afrikannsche Republiek, or South African Republic) and Orange Free State are beginning to feel the wieght of superior British numbers and resources. Johannesburg, gold capital of the world, and Pretoria, capital of the ZAR, are on the verge of collapse, as is the capital of the Orange Free State, Bloemfontein. They are held together by a few brilliant leaders, such as Louis Botha, Christian Wet, and J.C. Smuts in the military, and the iron-willed Transvaal president Paul Kruger. The Seige of Ladysmith has been lifted, and there are rumors of Boer women and children being rounded up and put into camps by the British...

Pretoria, ZAR
There was a crash as the mug was hurled against the wall. A brown stain marked where the coffee landed.

"Damn it," shouted Paul Kruger, president of the Transvaal. "Our damned generals were too cautious at Ladysmith. Now the Uitlanders [foreigners] are almost at the Witwatersrand. Tell me Louis, what do we have?"

Louis Botha, one of Kruger's top generals, sighed. "Not much, I am afraid. I have a total of some three thousand men and horse to defend the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, and Pretoria. Perhaps I can get a few more from the Free State, but I think they are as concerned about Bloemfontein as we are about our troubles. I doubt we will get much in the way of aid."

Kruger swore again. "Where is Smuts?"

"He's with a komanndo, near the Natal border. Investigating the rumors," Botha responded.

The expression on Kruger's face changed. Anger flowed into disgust. "Do you think they are true?"

"I pray to God that they are not. But the Uitlanders were desparate, for a while. Now...not so much, I fear. If we only had help, maybe it would be different."

A look of deep thought consumed Kruger's face for a moment. "Brilliant, my friend."

Botha raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"Help. I will go to Europe, and plea for aid in our cause. It is just, no? We are simply defending our homes and our property against the imperialists." He laughed. "Maybe even the Americans will pay attention." That got a chuckled from Botha as well. Despite having a powerful industrial base, the Americans were too inward-looking to ever become anything. Once, they had been like the Boers, carving a home for themselves amidst hostile natives on an unexplored and wild continent. Now, now they were languishing in their own complacent inaction.

Kruger spoke again. "I will leave you in charge of the war while I am gone, my friend. Good luck and Godspeed." Botha saluted, and left.

A railway, Natal
The small raiding team called a komanndo crested the ridge overlooking the railline. They had left their horses at the base of the ridge, so as to be able to crawl undetected. The sun was to their backs, so someone looking at the top of the ridge would not be able to make out their bodies. There fifteen men in this komanndo. One of them, General Jan Christian Smuts, peered through a pair of binoculars at the rail below.

"It looks like some sort of camp. Something's not right, though. It looks almost like it's meant to keep people in, rather than out." Confused, he handed the binoculars to his second in command, a large man by the name of Jelle van der Meer.

"I can't imagine what they're trying to keep in...my God," van der Meer muttered.

"What is it?"

"I see prisoners...but they aren't soldiers or fighting men. Christ, it's women and children in there!"

Smuts was dumbfounded. At least three of the men with him crossed themselves. "Why...what kind of barbarian would imprison women and young ones in such a manner?"

Jelle shook his head in disbelief. "I...I don't know, sir."

Smuts felt a fiery rage building inside of him. "These bastards will pay. Tell Frederik to ride to the nearest force of soldiers. We will need help freeing these people." Jelle nodded, and started to head down the ridge. Then he stopped.

"Sir, what if...what if there are more of these camps?"

"I would imagine that there are...so we will have to take them all, my friend." Jelle, seeming satisfied, turned to continue his descent down the ridge.

Smuts looked again at the camp. It was unchanged, except that now the Union Jack was fluttering at a slightly different angle. God help these poor souls, he prayed.

awesome... Slim Jannie Smuts and Oom Paul Kruger, in action!

"You want us to do what?"

"Scorched earth. Let's decimate anything in our path that the rebels can use against us. Livestock. Farmland. Everything."

"You must be mad!"

"Nay, I am not. We are on the verge of victory, yet those stubborn Boors have not given up the fight. We've lost thousands of our men to these savages in case you've forgotten."

Lord Kitchener grimaced at the thought. The war was costing the Empire the blood of some of her best and brightest young men. The Royal Navy had not been called upon, but where most of the fighting was taking place was far out of range of the guns of her best first class battleships. Armoured and protected cruisers didn't have a chance of rendering any kind of fire.

Still, the sheer numbers of the British Army were wearing down the resistance of the Boors again, but the Boors weren't going to be an easy pill to swallow. Lord Kitchener fully realised that his men would have to spill a great deal more blood for the King and for the empire to continue to endure. He looked out the window, contemplating a future that looked promising at times but was turning more bleak by the moment.

OOC: I'll have an IC post sometime tomorrow as soon as I confirm a couple of things.

OOC: I TG'd Euroslavia and Hutchosity (the Netherlands and Portugal, respectivley) about this, and from their lack of response, I'm going to assume tacit approval.

IC:

Lorenzo Marques, Portugese East Africa
Paul Kruger looked down from the railing of the Dutch warship Gelderland at the bustling port below him. The ship, sent by Queen Wilhemina of the Netherlands, had come to take him to Europe, where he would plead the Boer case before whoever would listen. Though he was optimistic, he was also realistic. He doubted that any nation would challenge Britain in this day and age. Though he hated to do it, he had to give them credit.

The Netherlands, he thought, would be sympathetic. The Afrikaners, were, in a way, the wayward children of the Dutch nation. He also held out hope for the Germans. Many Afrikaners had German ancestry, and Germany had been pushing for her place among the world powers for many years now. If Germany sided with him, then their lapdogs the Austrians would surely follow suit. Maybe even Italy...he nearly laughed. He would rather have Poles fight on his side than the Italians. They were the only Europeans to ever lose a war against African kaffirs. That accomplishment made them the butt of many jokes in Transvaal and Orange Free State.

He shook his head. The best he could hope for would be a few nations calling for an end to the war. He very much doubted that any tangible help would arise.

He strolled to his cabin as the ship left port, headed for Europe...

Witwatersrand, ZAR
"General Botha, sir, the picket line along the west flank reports British troops in the area," the young officer shouted, in order to be heard over the commotion in the Command Post, a large tent at the base of the ridge.

"Send a rider. Tell them to fall back and engage only if they are absolutely cure that they can kill all the uitlanders and then escape. This cannot become a European-style battle. If it does, the British advantage in numbers will crush us like so many flies. We fight this one kommando." The officer nodded, and ran off to find a rider to send. He looked down at the map spread across the table. We cannot hold this ridge without more men, he admitted to himself. If the Witwatersrand fell, the British would be in a perfect position to launch an attack against Johannesburg and Pretoria, an attack that the battered Transvaal Army would be hard pressed to repel. If Pretoria and Johannesburg fell, the ZAR fell. If the ZAR fell, so did the Orange Free State, and with the hope of a truly free Afrikaner republic. He steeled his resolve. The Witwatersrand will not fall while I stand, he swore to himself.

Natal-Transvaal Border
General Smuts' kommando unit had over the weeks joined with several others, and he now commanded a force nearly forty strong. Sitting around the cookfire, he informed his officers of his plan.

"That prison we saw by the rail, tonight we attack it and get those people out of there." Several of his officers looked at him, not saying anything but the questions clear in their eyes. "Do not fret, my brothers. We are forty men on horseback, with good Mauser rifles. They are perhaps a hundred, on foot. We can easily surround the camp and simulate a much larger attack, and during the panic, send in a small group to free the prisoners and arm the older children and some of the women."

Jelle van der Meer, Smuts' second in command, scoffed. "Arm them? With what?"

"Tools, shovels, rifles from dead guards. In fact, in close quarters like that, a shovel would probably be of more use than a rifle. Alright, we attack at eight o'clock, when the twilight will make it difficult for them to make out our numbers." His officers nodded, and dispersed to inform the men. Smuts stood and stretched his arms, gazing across the field. South Africa will be free, he thought.

That night, they rode to the camp, and in the grey of twilight, began firing from a distance, picking off guards. As the British realized what was happening, twenty of the raiders dismounted and encircled the camp on foot, firing and then running to a new place to fire. While they did this, ten men remained on horseback, firing and galloping, firing and galloping. In the dim light, it seemed like there were many more attackers than there actually were.

Jelle is doing well, thought Smuts. Van der Meer was commanding the attack on the camp, and Smuts would lead the raid into the camp itself. As the British concentrated their defense on the north-east corner of the camp, where most of the attacking fire was concentrated, Smuts lead his ten-man team to the southwest corner. They moved as silently through the brown grass as they could, carrying wire-cutters for the fence, and various knives, entrenching tools, and other such things to arm the prisoners.

Hopefully, Smuts and his men would be inside and near the prisoners before the British realized that they were there. Hopefully being the operative word...

Witwatersrand, ZAR
Still poring over the map, Botha began to notice a noise in the background, a steady crump-crump-crump. Artillery. Well, thank God that at least it's not heavy caliber, he thought. His train of thought was broken when a young man, a lieutenant, burst into the Command Post, blood oozing from a wound on his temple.

"General Botha, sir, the British are attacking! They're hitting the left flank very hard sir, and Captain Gers is dead!"

"Calm down, son. Don't worry. Colonel Ardendoff, move a reserve company up there, hurry, damn it!"

"Sir, yes sir!" The Colonel saluted, and shouted the order at some younger offcer, who promptly disappeared, to find a rider.

"So it begins now," Botha said to no one in particular. He hated to sound melodramatic, even to himself, but he guess that this really was the final battle in deciding South Africa's fate. For the near future, at least.

OOC -- I have the role of Canada. The Boer War being there first war I figured I should maybe be around. Hope nobody mind's.

IC --Ottawa

With the British having a vested intrest in South Africa, Canada decide's to show some sort of independance and join with British Force's already serving in the South African theather. 2,000 Infantry from Canada's standing army has been put onto deployment order's as Goverment offical's inform The United Kingdom of Great Britain & Ireland that they shall be supported by Canadian's in Canada's first offical war, and ask if they are able to meet-up with a convoy set to leave soon or if an escort can be provided once they near hostile area's.

Halifax as a result become's a hub of activity as the transport ship's sit idle in the harbour waiting to be loaded. The 2,000 men plus support from the Royal Canadian Army are itching to get going as they view this as an Imperial Adventure worthy of the GB&I Empire. Upon loading into the boat's much fanfare is about as they gently pull out of harbour and toward's what they hope is the nearest British Convoy.

OOC: I don't mind if Sarz doesn't. Also, I apologize in advance for the shortness of this post, but I can't really do much until Sarzonia replies, as two of my three main characters are currently fighting the British.

IC:

Aboard the Gelderland, Kruger was awakened from a midafternoon doze by a rapping at the door. "Just a moment," he said. Afrikaans was close enough to Dutch that the crew could understand him, and vice versa. He got out of his chair and walked over to the door. He opened it, and was greeted by an ensign with a piece of paper.

The young sailor promptly saluted. "Sir. We just recieved this via the radio." He handed Kruger the message, and turned to go.

"Wait a moment. Would you happen to know where we are?"

"Last I heard, sir, we were just passing the Belgian Congo," the sailor replied.

"Thank you," said Kruger. Only a few more days, he thought. He shut the door to his room, and unfolded the paper. It was a short message from General Botha.

Paul,
We have just received word that the Canadians are mobilizing to aid the British. I don't know how many they will send, but a single brigade would be too many. I will engage them as I would the British, unless you order otherwise.

God Bless,
Louis

Paul nearly swore. He tore up the letter and threw it into the wastebasket. "Damn lapdogs," he muttered. Several moments later, he began to draft the letter he would send to the leaders of Europe upon his arrival.

bump for Sarzonia.

[OOC: Sure, you can join in.]

"My lord! The Canadians are sending troops to help us with the Boers."

"Brilliant!"

Lord Kitchener's expression of delight was almost too exuberant, particularly since the number -- 2,000 regulars -- wasn't large. However, adding numbers to an already powerful advantage was still more rope for the noose he hoped to lay on the Boers.

Meanwhile, a lieutenant came in with a cable.

"My lord! The prison has been attacked by Afrikkaner forces!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Last night, there was an attack at the prison!"

Kitchener slammed his fist to the table in a fit of rage. He muttered under his breath, then turned a withering glance to the lieutenant.

"How many men?"

"The cable didn't say, sir, but there must have been hundreds. All the prisoners have been let free."

I curse the day I ever took this assignment, Kitchener grumbled.

"This is what we do," he said. "If a single bloody soldier survived that assault on the prison, we're going to try to use him and get clues about where that assault came from or where it went. We're going to recapture those prisoners if it's the last thing I do under my command."

"Aye, sir."

Witwatersrand, ZIR

"How is the attack going?"

"Quite well so far."

"We're close to breaking their left flank."

"Get ready to send the cavalry in. A few hundred men on horseback should finish them off once we can surround them with another brigade or two hitting their right flank."

"Understood, sir."

"Now where's that heavy artillery? I want to put those bastards in a panic and force them to make a rather hasty retreat."

"Aye, sir."

The game's afoot, he thought, running his hand through his beard. It's time those Boors started playing the game our way.

Witwatersrand, ZAR
"Look there, sir. You can see the British line quite well from here," the captain said, pointing. Botha raised the binoculars to his eyes.

"Indeed, good work Captain. Bring a couple of sharpshooters up here. Have them pick off officers. We can't win with force here, so we've got to decapitate them." The captain of infantry nodded his understanding. Botha turned to leave. He had to go to the center of the Boer line, to supervise the defense. The left flank was close to breaking, and if that happened, the center would have to wheel around very quickly in order to avoid getting flanked.

Below the ridge, the cavalry were preparing to make a sweeping attack against the British forces along the ridge. Hundreds of horsemen with rifles, pistols, and sabres would descend on the British like a hellstorm, hopefully startling them into a retreat, to give the Afrikaners time to regroup and reinforce their flank. The Afrikaners held the high ground, and so had some advantage, though several British units had forced a foothold, from which they were attacking Botha's flank on more or less even ground. That damned left flank will be the death of me, he thought.

Finally, he reached the center of the line. One of the soldiers with him put his hat on the tip of his rifle, and lifted it above the rock they were using for cover. When no sniper blew it away, he cautiously poked his head out. Nothing. "It's clear," he said. Botha stood up and looked across the ridge and the field below. There were pitifully few Afrikaners defending it. "Sir," began one of the other officers, "Shouldn't we move the troops up to the top of the ridge? They'd be at a better vantage point, and further from the British guns."

Botha shook his head. "No, this way, when the British break our line, the men still have higher ground to fall back too." Every man with him noticed that he had said when, rather than if. "There, look." He pointed west. The cavalry was beginning the charge, coming around and behind the British on the ridge. A roaring battle cry rose from the horsemen, who promptly dashed into the British lines, swinging sabres and firing pistols, creating chaos. Even though they were faring better than he'd hoped, Botha noticed that the cavalry were being cut down far too efficiently by the uitlanders. A man on a horse was a big, easy target. "Christ," he muttered. "Damn this butcher's yard."

To get a better view, he stepped out from behind the rock. Barely three seconds had passed when he felt something slam into his shoulder. He took a couple of dazed steps sideways. He felt a warm trickle on his arm, and looked at his. A deep red stain was spreading across his shirt. He blinked for a few blinked, and collapsed onto the ground.

Before he slipped into unconciousness, he heard some yelling, "General Botha, sir! General! Quick, get a stretcher, the General has been hit, hurry, damn you!"

***

Countryside, Transvaal
J.C. Smuts sat on his horse, looking over the prisoners. "Alright, the nearest town is about half a mile north. Head there. You'll get food and water, and a place to rest. But be quick about it, now. The British are sure to come looking for you. Travel to your homes as fast as possible. Tell as many people as will listen about the place we found you. Go!" Slowly, the freed Boers started to walk north, away from the group of kommandos. The young and the strong helped the old and the sick, though no one in the group was truly healthy.

Smuts looked at his second in command. "Jelle, take two kommandos and follow them at a distance once they leave the town. If the British get to close, harass them and get them to chase you instead." Jelle nodded, and started riding away, followed by thirty men. "Gert, you're my second, now. Come everyone, we're going."

"Where to, sir?" asked one of the soldiers.

"Pretoria. Last I heard, we weren't doing so well at the Witwatersrand, so I imagine we'll be needed at Pretoria soon." As the riders headed north-west toward the capital, the usually jovial atmosphere was hidden behind a melancholy brought about by what they had seen at the camp.

OOC: If you want to RP out the rest of the battle at the Witwatersrand, Sarzonia, go ahead and have the Afrikaner left flank falling apart and the cavalry on the verge of retreat, but just remember that the Boers are stubborn people.

OOC: Seeing as how Sarzonia hasn't posted for a while, I thought I'd go ahead and move up to 1901 in the RP, as it's 12:15 EST.

In the months following their disastrous defeat at the Witwatersrand, the Army of the Zuid Afrikaansche Republiek disbanded many units, and most of the rest went underground to fight a continued guerilla war against the British. Now it is 1901, and the kommando forces of the ZAR are stepping up raids against British outposts, sometimes reaching as far south as Durban in Natal. However, the British are responding in kind, hitting back with twice the ferocity of anything the Boers manage. Farms are sacked, crops burned, livestock shot, and civilians rounded up and put into the concentration camps.

In Europe, President Paul Kruger is preparing for a diplomatic tour to attempt and garner international support for the Boer cause, while at the Cape, Generals Jan Smuts and Louis Botha are driven further underground with the soldiers who remain loyal to the Afrikaner cause. Realizing that they are no longer able to defeat the British in a set battle, they hope to wait the British out, and make them suffer enough losses that they will pull out of the Orange Free State and Transvaal.

Many in the world watch, but no one acts...yet.

OOC: This is going to be my first post at the helm of Great Britain so it might be a bit poor but I am determined to get this RP back up and running.

IC:

It was somewhere in the South African Veldt and there was much activity in the HQ tent of the expeditionart force. Lord Kitchener was determined to beat the Boer guerillas who were continually sniping at his collumns and threatening his supply lines.

"Tell London to send us more men" He snapped at a nearby Lieutenant, "How can they expect us to win a war with no reinforcements?" The Lieutenant scurried off to write a dispatch, though almost 400,000 soldiers were in the country already, many recruited locally or brought in from India and had seen battle on the North West Frontier.

"How many blockhouses do we have now?" Kitchener enquired of an Engineer Colonel.

"Around 5000, mi lord"

"Good, good, I want the entire Transvaal Quadrilateral (Pretoria, Johannesburg, Vereeniging and Klerksdorp) fenced in and get some more of that barbed wire out there"

"Yes mi lord"

Kitchener moved on to another subaltern of the logistics corps. "How are the new formations going?" He enquired, meaning the regiments of light horse taht he had recruited from Boer internees of his 45 concentration camps. He had formed the Transvaal National Scouts and the Orange River Volunteers from such men who had wished to fight their ex-comrades.

"They're just about ready to go into action, lord"

"I guess we'll soon find out how eager they are to fight their old friends then eh?"

"Yes, Mi Lord"

All in all, he considered, things weren't going to badly now that he was in control, his blockhouses were effective in restricting the movements of the guerrillas, but could not on their own defeat them. So he had formed new regiments of irregular light cavalry including the Bushveldt Carbineers who ranged across Boer-controlled territory, hunting down and destroying Boer commando groups.

His scorched earth policy was stripping the countryside of anything which could be useful to the Boer guerillas; seizing livestock; burning crops and farms; poisioning wells; and forcibly moving the families that lived in them into concentration camps. The policy had led to the destruction of 30,000 farmhouses and about 40 small towns. In all, 116,572 Boer men, women and children were moved into camps, which was roughly a quarter of the Boer population, along with about 120,000 black Africans.

"Yes", he thought, "Not bad at all"

Jans Christian Smuts glared at his friend, Louis Botha, across the campfire. "You know what this means, old friend?"

Botha nodded. "Kitchener is an effective commander, we've known that from the start. However, his damned policy of burning everything in sight is slowly strangling us. Our fellow Boers are afraid to help us or give us supplies, and understandably so. For every blockhouse we destroy, those damned uitlanders burn a dozen farms, and heard our people into those wretched camps."

Smuts shuddered, remembering the camps he had helped to liberate last year, when everyone thought them just a nasty rumor, spread by Boer propoganda. "If Oom Kruger doesn't bring help from Europe, or at the very least some political pressure against the British, I fear very much that we could lose by the end of the year."

Botha nodded knowingly. The Boers were brave fighters and skilled horsemen, but even they needed food and bullets to keep up the fight. "Let us pray that he brings the help we need. He should be visiting some European leaders soon. Perhaps the Germans will help us. But we must focus on the problems at hand, old friend. Tomorrow, we raid another blockhouse." He drew a rough map in the dirt with a stick. "Then, we fall back to this farm, abandoned, of course, and wait for them to come. When they arrive, we kill as many as we can and ride of into the sunset. Meanwhile, General Wet's troops will hit a supply column here," he said, pointing to another spot.

Smuts yawned. It was not late, yet, but he was tired. War was a damned tiring business, he thought.

Jonas Busse strolled the river front of Cape Town. The Austrian-Hungarian Government had been worried about the South African independence movements for several months now, especially when the tide turned against the Boers. So they had sent Jonas to investigate, using his main career as a naturalist known for his interest in African species, which was a perfect cover for his job to investigate British troop movements to and from South Africa. So far, he he was only seeing the troop movements go up. But eventually they would go down and thats when his masters would strike with the full force of their militar. They were patient and could wait until the time came. Their main concern was whether the Boers were could wait that long. That remained to be seen.

Lieutenant Brown sat on his horse, watching his men burn another farmstead to the ground. He and his men were the advance guard for the supply collumn that was making it's way to the Transvaal border to help resupply General Buller's advance up there. His whole platoon of Bushveldt Carbineers were ex-frontiersmen, adept in survival and scouting in the veldt. They were supported by a company of foot soldiers from another locally raised regiment and had orders to disrupt any boer property en route to their destination.

So far there had been little trouble on the way and they were expecting a nice easy ride up to the frontier. Brown was just anticipating spending hi spay in the officer's mess later that day when suddenly a plume of smoke blossomed on a nearby hill and he fell, bleeding, to the ground. His men looked up in panic and suddenly the whole hillside appeared to erupt in smoke and more men fell. The remainder attempted to counter attack with the infantry, but were cut down in bloody swathes by more shots. They took cover in the rocky gullies leading up the hill's flanks.

Still more and more were being hit by the relentless fire and suddenly the men broke, determined not to die in this obscure battle in which no glory would be won. They abandoned the supply train to the boers and fled on foot and by horse back towards Ladysmith from where they had begun their journey.

It looked like it was going to be a long war...

Boer kommandos charged like thunder on horseback, firing rifles and pistols at the fleeing British. Many of the horsemen wheeled around and tried to pursue the British for a short distance, shouting "Zuid Afrika! Zuid Afrika!" as they rode. Eventually, though, they came around and returned to the farmhouse.

Several wagons from the supply train had been captured, and were being brought to the burnt wreckage of the farmstead. General Christian Wet was overseeing the sacking of supplies.

"Take only what we can carry on the horses. Food and ammunition, and medicine if you find any. Move, damn you! We can't stay here long. Some British troops fled into that gully, they could be back any second. Move!"

One of the soldiers had a suggestion. "Couldn't we just go in after them?"

Wet shook his head. "No, we mustn't get bogged down there. It will give them time to regroup and hit us again. I've posted guards, and we'll be done soon."

"What about the farmhouse?"

"It can't be helped. Did our men find any family?"

"Three bodies, all shot. Two were burned too badly to tell, but the third was a kaffir. Most likely a servant."

Wet nodded slowly. Damn these Englishmen. All we wanted was to live in peace. Angrily, he looked to the south-east, where the British soldiers had run. By the time any of them returned, his kommando would be long gone.

Captain Hamilton was in charge of the Infantry guarding the collumn, his men had suffered badly, but enough were left to make a counterattack.

"Sargeant, form the men up and fix bayonets we'll flush them off this field if it's the last thing we do!"

"Yes sir!" The Sargeant replied, and busied himself with organising the men.

In a few minutes, around 40 men were ready to attack, some were weaponless and a few were wounded whilst more were cavalrymen who had little experience with fighting on foot, but all were ready to do their duty.

"Ready men?" Hamilton asked, "CHARGE!"

They scrambled over the edge of the gully and screamed in defiance at the enemy. Though there was no reply, the enemy had vanished.

"Gone sir!" The Sargeant reported. "Vanished back into the Veldt"

"Damn those Boers, get a runner to head back to Ladysmith and report this to Kitchener. I'll sort out this mess." Hamilton instructed as he began sorting through what was left of the supplies.

After hearing news of widespread Boer attacks and the loss of several supply convoys Lord Kitchener orders Lord Roberts to attack the Transvaal directly and to take the Boer capital Pretoria. To this end several armoured trains have set out along the rail routes towards the Transvaal. Each train carries supplies and equipment for the men for 4 weeks as well as a full platoon of Royal Engineers and their equipment to repair any damaged rails. Each train also carries Maxim machine guns and at least 2 field artillery pieces to protect the vehicle whilst it is stopped for repairs etc. It is hoped that they will bring a quick end to the war.

OOC: The capital of the Transvaal is actually Pretoria. Johannesburg was a boom town, sort of the economic center of the country due to the gold at the Witwatersrand.

General de Wet swore as he looked at the train through his binoculars. "Damn things are too-well armored for a direct attack." He handed the field glasses to another officer with him. He pointed down the hill to the rear part of the train. "There, you see? Artillery. I'd bet quite a lot that they've got some of those machine guns of theirs as well."

The officer nodded. "Could we get ahead of them and blow the tracks? When they stop to make repairs, we can pick off a couple and flee into the veldt."

Christaan shook his head. "Perhaps, but I don't think we can risk it. We'd best move out to Pretoria and alert General Botha. Maybe he's gotten word from Oom Kruger." The two men scurried through the brush along the hill, reaching the copse of tree on the other side where the rest of the kommando was waiting with the horses. "Let's go," de Wet ordered, and the men saddled up and rode north.

OOC: Sorry I assumed that being in the centre of the Tansvaal that Johannesburg would be the capital, I should have done more research. I'll change the earlier post.

IC:

Lord Roberts rode in one of the first trains, his HQ was set up in one of the cars near the rear and the desks were littered with paperwork and the room was packed. This was the price for such a bold move.

"My Lord, the front train has reached the Transvaal quadrilateral border and we are only 15 miles from it!"

"Indeed, we should see some Boers soon"

"There's no way they can stand up to the might of armoured trains, sir this time we've got them for sure."

Roberts wished he shared his young subaltern's enthusiasm, though he had been fighting for too long and knew that no plan was foolproof, especially on as bold as this where the nearest supporting units were miles behind.

"Perhaps, we have Jenkins, now where's that timetable?"

Jenkins passed up a grubby and much folded piece of paper. Roberts read it and saw that he was just about on schedule and as long as there were no hold ups he was sure that he could reach his objective before nightfall.

"Tell the driver to maintain his speed" He told Jenkins "And tell him to keep an eyeout for breakages in the track!" He added as an afterthought.

Roberts knew that if night fell before he reached Pretoria then visibility would be reduced and they'd have to slow down, putting him further behind schedule, he prayed that it would not happen.

"We can't stop them, Christaan."

"I know," muttered de Wet. He sat sullenly under the cover of the tree with two other Boers as the men prepared the tracks on the other side of the hill. "We can, however, slow the bastards down. Give Botha more time to get ready."

The other trooped nodded. He started as the explosion rocked the ground below them. "That's it, then?"

De Wet nodded. "When their train stops to make repairs, we'll kill a couple of the engineers, officers if we can, and then scurry off into the veldt. Keep that up for a while, they may begin to get second thoughts."

The Boer fighters got to their feet, and slowly made their way down the hill to the waiting horses.

OOC: Whereabouts is President Kruger staying in Europe for the time being, as I have plans to contact him.

To: Lord Salsbury
From: Marshall Cairolo
Re: Boer War

In honor of our recent treaty, reguarding the matters pertaining therein, it has come to our attention that two "states" of Boer peoples in the Southern section of Africa are currently waging a war against your fair nation.

In accordance with the treaty, we are compelled to offer your great nation assistance militarilly. However, due to the nature of the conflict being ongoing as the treaty was signed, some lawmakers have questioned the legality of interference without your due consent.

We are quite willing to declair war on the Boer states, as per our mutual alliance, should we recieve your permission to do so. Currently, the 1st President's Guard Regement and the 4th Mendoza Cavalry Regement are ready to go, providing your forces with 1300 additional infantry, 400 cavalry, and 800 dismounted cavalry, as well as 6 3" batteries attached. We can, given a timely response, have these forces on the ground in South Africa as early as May.

Best reguards however your response may be.

Marshall Cairolo

To: Marshall Cairolo
From: Lord Salsbury
Re: Boer War

We appreciate your adherence to our recent treaty. However as this war was ongoing before the traety was signed and does not affect the security of you nation we are willing to allow you to break the terms and not send military aid, if you so wish. However we would of course welcome any Argentinian reinforcements to the Boer conflict and they could be put to good use. Though as stated we will not be offended if you do not send troops.

Yours,

Lord Salisbury

To: Lord Salsbury
CC: Lord Kitchener
From: Col. R. Sanfuentes, Argentinian Expeditionary Force, Commanding
Re: Argentinian Reinforcements

As per your previous telegram, permitting Argentina involvement in the matter of the Boer War, President Roca and Marshall Cairolo have authorized me to command the Argentinian forces to be placed under the command of Lord Kitchener. If a different structure is desired, please inform me of such. We are almost ready to go, and shall depart immediately for South Africa. I am looking foward to meeting the illustrious Lord Kitchener.

Col. R. Sanfuentes

To: Col. R. Sanfuentes, Argentinian Expeditionary Force, Commanding
From: Lord Kitchener
Re: Argentinian Reinforcements

We look forward to recieving the Argentinian Expeditionary Force and would be glad to fight alongside the 1st President's Guard and the 4th Mendoza Cavalry Regiment. We are currently fighting a major offensive and could do with the additional support. We have informed everyone of your imminent arrival and logistical support units will be waiting to be attached to your regiments at Capetown when they arrive. We can provide you with standard 3" ammunition and food etc. but need to know what rifle ammunition to supply as we only carry .303 calibre. I hope to see you soon, it will be a pleasure to work with you.

Lord Kitchener

To: Lord Kitchener
From: Col. R. Sanfuentes, Argentinian Expeditionary Force, Commanding
Re: Rifle Ammunition

The standard issue firearm for our forces is the Argentine 1891 Rifle, a varient of the Mauser used by Belgian and Turkish forces at this time. Our cavalry force will be using the '91 Carbine varient, and we will be well supplied with 7.65x53mm ammunition, so long as our supply ships continue running. We thank you as well for the offer of 3" artillery ammunition, as it will free up space for more rifle ammunition and food on our supply trains.

Col. R. Sanfuentes

To: Col. R. Sanfuentes, Argentinian Expeditionary Force, Commanding
From: Lord Kitchener
Re: Rifle Ammunition

We thankyou for bringing your own ammunition for rifles and carbines as this wll avoid any confusion on arrival. We will attempt to aid you in keeping open the supply routes back to Argentina by useage of the Royal Navy. However this should not be a problem as the Boers are landlocked and have no Navy. As to the tactical deplyment of the troops when they arrive, can I suggest that they be placed so that the infantry will support ours as they follow up the train attacks and the cavalry also be used in conjunction with ours in a mounyted infantry role and used for scouting along the perimeter of the advance. The tactical dispositions and deployment will of course be left to you. Though I advise not too bold a deployment as the Boers are extremely cunning and can exploit any weakness with use of snipers and mounted infantry.

Col. R. Sanfuentes stretches his legs as the transport vessel finishes docking with at the small South African port. The first of his men off the ship, he bounds up to the nearest dock worker, and askes pointedly "Hola. ¿Puede usted dirigirme a su comandante, por favor?" At the blank expression on the worker's face, he repeats more slowly, "¿Puede usted dirigirme a su comandante?"

Still nothing resembling understanding comes to the worker's face, I assumed as much. He thinks to himself. "Teniente Gwynn. Venga encima de aquí y traduzca para mí." A young Lt. of clear British ancestry approaches him. "Gwynn; diga a este hombre que deba hablar a su oficial en jefe... y para apresurarse."

"Col. Sanfuentes needs to speak to your commanding officer." Lt. Gwynn begins. "And he asks that you please hurry."

"Right this way sir" Responds the worker as he begins to walk towards a building at the other end of the docks.

"I think Lord Kitchener's expecting you" He states as he holds the door open for teh Colonel, revealing a large room inside with luxurious desks covered in paperwork and orders. Lord Kitchener was seated at the other side of the room behind a large desk and was dictating a communiqué to an aide.

OOC: I may not be back on till tomorrow so you can RP whatever instructions you want and get stuck into the fightingif you like.

"Buen día, señor Kitchener. ¿Usted sucede hablar español? Deutsches perhapse? Quam super latin?" Col. Sanfuentes motioned to his Lt. Gwynn. "Tengo esto Galés quién lata traducir mi palabras a Inglesa."

"He says: 'This Lt. can translate my words to English'."

Col. R. Sanfuentes mentally crossed his fingers. With a small amount of luck, Lord Kitchener would know at least a smattering of German, or would be educated enough to recognize latin. Either way, he could ditch his Lt. and him back to his post. He was sure there were more pressing needs for translation if he could find a common language. He began again.

"The Col. also asks where his forces would be the best utilized, and how large of a detachment he should consider deploying on these missions. He is yours to command."

OOC: Unfortunately my troops are a bit out of their league. Those who are upper eschelon officers might have some training fighting indians, but while the soldiers have recieved excelent training, they have not yet faught anyone armed with modern weapons, and also refuse to deploy without the commander's, in this case Lord Kitchener's, permission.

"Guten Tag Col. Sanfuentes, ich kann ein kleiner Deutscher sprechen, wie ich in switzerkand studierte, peut-être français, of misschien het Nederlands?"

OOC: we should probably assume that we can find some sort of common language

"I was hoping that your men might be able to complement and support the advance that Lord Roberts is leading into the heart of Transvaal, I appreciate your men's lack of experience in warfare but can reassure them that they will be fully supported by my troops at all times and perhaps this can give them some experience of front line conditions. After a short period there maybe we can have them lead attacks to raid Boer supplies or burn a few homesteads, particularly the mounted infantry/cavalry in support of my own men?"

"Of course you could take a quiter posting but it would not gove your men as much experience as a fully fledged advanced into enemy territory"

"However I leave any such choices up to you as they are your countrymen and comrades"

Just the offer of frontline combat was all it took to convince Col. R. Sanfuentes that Lord Robert's detatchment was the place to be. Quickly organizing the Companies of Cavalry, Dragoons, and Infantry into groups, he prepaired to set out with the front line.

Organization:

Foward Element: (Col. Sanfuentes)
267 Cavalry
400 Dragoon
432 Infantry
6 Attached 3" guns.

Reserve: (Lt. Col. Artista)
133 Cavalry
400 Dragoon
868 Infantry

Despite Sanfuentes words of caution to Lord Kitchener, his troops are upbeat and positive: in the past, Argentina has been nothing, save victorious over it's enemies, and there was nothing suggesting to them that this war should be any different.

Lord Kitchener is pleased that the Argentinians have pledged support to his bold invasion of the Transvaal. At the moment the situation is that the trains have pressed forward beyond teh Transvaal border and have momentarily halted to allow the supporting Infantry and Cavalry to catch up. British troops will arrive there momentarily and will wait for the Argentinian supports to arrive before continuing the invasion. I can mount your infantry on civilian trains if you like to get them to the area, but the cavalry will have to ride there as all of our military trains have gone to the invasion.

Malkyr has told me that he will not be back on till 1903, so he said that I can presume victory soon and make a treaty by mid 1902.

In which case IC:

The armoured trains rumbled on, supported by infantry, cavalry and artillery now (both British and Argentinian). This slowed progress but was much safer for when in Boer territory. Simultaneous advances now began from Mafeking and Newcastle to support the assault. They were close to Vereeniging now and the units prepared for the assault, which would undoubtedly be costly. The Boers had not really attacked the train on the journey, just breaking the track on some occasions and sniping at the troops. Now, however the Boers were seen in force prepared to defend their families and homes to the last. They had blockaded the rail tracks and erected barricades at all the town's entrances. This would not be easy for the allied force.

Lord Roberts hatched a plan.

"If we detrain all the artillery we can pummel those barricades down and send in a heavy infantry assault whilst teh cavalry circle the town to pick off any retreating Boers and to deal with snipers. It'll be costly but by God we'll take that town!"

"The The Royal Welsh Fusiliers and The South Wales Borderers can lead the attack alongside the The Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders, whilst the rest of the infantry pour in as needed. The Argentinians can do as they please, wither go in with the first wave or wait until they are needed as reinforcements to support the assault."

Col. R. Sanfuentes considered for a moment, and replied in German: "Please sir, allow me the honor of leading the Argentine Cavalry in the charge. We can leave what remains of my infantry as a reserve force."

He smiled at the sight of his men setting up for what he assumed was the last major conflict of the war. The speed and precision with which they handled their jobs was hartening.

"Men," he began, adressing his troops. "Our cavalry forces will be going in with the British to encircle the town. I want Capt. Mencia to lead the Dragoons around the towns two flanks, and dig in, and the rest of you are going to follow the British into the town, when they need you. With a small bit of luck, this will be the last major conflict of the opperation."

Colonel Sir Edward Bulwer of the Royal Welsh Fusilers was to lead the initial charge as he was senior to Colonel Richard Glyn of the South Wales Borderers. He planned to lead all his men in a charge on the town's south defences as thats where they were weakest with few buildings to fortify and only rough barricades thrown up. Those barricades were now being given a barrage of fire by the artillery to try and breach them for the attack. This was going on all around the town to disguise the attack's real starting point, this was the same reason that the infantry were spread around the town.

Colonel Bulwer walked up to Colonel Sanfuentes and asked in broken german "I would appreciate if you could deploy your 3" guns so as to support my main attack?"

OOC: I'll assume affirmative so as to move the RP on.

IC: Having bombarded the town for almost an hour the artillery suddenly ceased and the Boers returned to what remained of their defences. An unarmed British horseman with a white flag galloped towards the Boer defences.

"I have come from Lord Roberts, he says that if you surrender your arms now then you'll be given his word that you will be treated as prisoners of war and your wounded will be treated with respect to the Geneva Convention of 1864, though you have not signed it. Otherwise he must assault your town and ultimately take it resulting in great loss of life for both sides. The choice is yours"

The reply was not one that the messenger would wish to repeat to his Lord Roberts.

"So be it, the bombardment shall resume"

The horseman galloped back to his own lines and the artillery opened up again.

Around 2 hours later, Colonel Bulwer formed his men up ready for the attack and the cavalry took up covering positions around the area. As soon as the artillery ceased, Bulwer charged his regiments forwards towards the breached southern defences. Almsot immediately, Boer snipers set to work whittling down his men, however men from the 4th Mendoza Cavalry were quickly and efficiently dealing with the Boers on his flanks leaving Bulwer to worry about the task in hand.

When they reached to within 500 yards of the Boer line, the whole length of the barricade erupted in fire and men began falling all around him.

"Forwards!" Bulwer screamed and ran forwards, his men surged back towards the defences whilst others took up firing positions to keep the Boer heads down.

Lord Roberts, seeingthis as a critical moment in the fight sent in the first reserves, including the Argentinian 1st President's Guard regiment and a 3 British ones as well. The men in these quickly covered the ground towards the town and met up with the other men. This seemed to increase moral and again the British line charged forwards. This time they reached the barricades and scrambled over them. Vicious close fighting began and the Boers were gradually beaten back by the better British bayonet drill. However, Colonel Buller was shot in the neck by a Boer as he stabbed down at another and died, sword in hand, a hero.

Lord Roberts sent in his last reinforcements on the North side of the town which was, by now, relatively undefended. These men began to move towards the town centre, fighting bloodily building by building.

The first Boer prisoners and wounded were beginning to be brought to the British camp and Lord Roberts sensed victory. The cavalry and the light guns were sent to cut off the Boer retreat and inflicted heavy losses there.

By nightfall the town was in British hands, though it had cost them dearly. almost 900 men lay dead on the field along with 2200 wounded and hundreds more were still missing. Around 800 Boers were dead, 1800 wounded and the rest were prisoners along with the townsfolk and would be accomodated in one of the many camps back towards Cape Town.

Lord Roberts began his official dispatch to the King, he summarised the victory and put forward recommendations for medals, including 2 Victoria crosses (Including a nomination for Colonel Bulwer), 6 DSOs and 9 DSCs.

It seemed that the war would be over soon.

OOC: I'll just quickly RP my part in the war.

IC: Col. R. Sanfuentes was pleased with the speed that the Boer lines collapsed. Riding alongside the British Cavalry in the attack on the rear, he watched as the Boer Line colapsed, and defenders hastily tried to retreat, only to find their way out blocked by British and Argentinian troops. The battle was fierce.

A bullet cracked by his head, as he turned to give an order to a runner. Suddenly, his horse was toppling over on the ground, it's bulk crushing his right leg. He pulled free, laying prone on the ground as cavalry clattered around him. "Tell Maj. Quintina he's in charge of the Cavalry for now." he called to the runner. He pulled his foot out from the bulk and tested it. "Ah, good. Just a sprain, no break."

Lt. Col. Ortista went foward with the 1st Presidents Guards, advancing quickly foward. But with the Boers behind cover and in houses, and with a seeming endless supply of ammunition, his Regement was taking heavy losses.

At last, however, the main force of Boers were eliminated. And only a handful of stragglers served to snipe Allied soldiers, before being flushed out and shot.

At the other end of the field, he found Col. Sanfuentes, limping foward with his rifle as a crutch. "We seem to have won, sir."

"Well done, Ortista, well done. What kind of casualties do we have?"

"Well, no word yet from Capt. Mencia on the Dragoons, but if the others are any indication, we've got... about 150 dead or dying, and 800 wounded. And roughly 200 dead and injured horses. About one man in two has taken some form of bullet wound. We've definately paid the butchers bill here."

"How serious are the injuries?"

"Well, if infection doesn't take too many of the wounded, I'd say about 400 or so would still be fit to fight again."

"Ah, well, that's not so bad. Give my compliments to Col. Bulwar and Lord Roberts. They should have no trouble holding this territory after this fight." Col. Sanfuentes smiled. The Argentinian Newspapers would make him a hero for this.

Broken and bleeding, the exhausted survivors stood in a haggard clump beneath a tree on the road outside the town of Vereeniging. The town was lost to the Boers now, due to the ferocity of the combined British and Argentinian forces. Only a handful of Boers had escaped, and now General J.C. Smuts was beginning to wonder if it would not have been better to fall in a last blaze of glory defending the town.

Waiting for the last of the stragglers to load their packs onto the horses, Smuts spat. Some of the kommandos still believed victory was possible, but the leaders of the ZAR knew better. Smuts and Botha, and de Wet though he wouldn't admit it, knew that Oom Kruger's dream of a free and independent South Africa was dying.

If we had stopped them here, maybe something could be salvaged. Smuts sighed. The Boers would still have had to sue for peace, but they could have bargained from a position of relative strength. Now, though, they had only the food in their packs and the bullets in their rifles. The men were worried about their families and their farms. Smuts remembered Botha's words from a planning session two nights before.

"The Europeans have abandoned us. Despite Oom Kruger's best efforts, they have chosen to ignore our pleas, ignore the cries of our children languishing in those horrible camps. As much as the thought saddens and sickens me, I fear that for the time being, at least, our future lies with the British."

Smuts shook his head to clear it of bothersome thoughts. "Come on, men. We ride again. We will fight another day!" As the battered troopers rode through the veldt, he wondered how many had been fooled by the confidance in his voice.

OOC: LR, I'm back, so I'll take over the Boers again. Thanks to you and Manarth for keeping this going while I was away.