“He had a little job for us. It amounted to following the river westward until we arrived at the railway line running north towards Kimberley. It was vital that the line be secured. We were to be what I’d have judged a reconnaissance patrol-cum-outpost, though he called it a ‘tactical sub-unit,’ working the left flank of a four-mile-wide front. He showed us a hand-drawn map and pointed at the railway. ‘We understand it hasn’t been sabotaged by the Boer yet,’ he explained, ‘because they depend on it themselves for the running of heavy armament up to the siege site. We want it to remain untouched and will be sending in a company to guard and patrol it once we’ve got things straight here. Now, do you see this little box affair here? Where the railway line crosses the river? It’s a shelter, guard station, horse-relay depot, that sort of thing. You must take it from whoever is in residence, should you find it occupied, and settle in there. Establish a forward base. You’ll be relieved very shortly.’ He gave us a confident smile as he said it. ‘Draw your supplies,’ he told us. ‘For a week. Hard tack, tinned meat, compass, matches, whatever you need. Here’s a chit.’

“He looked at the six of us, ragtag and bobtails, from the height of his horse, and something very like pity flitted for a moment across his noble features. He dismounted, put the map down on the sand in front of us and invited us to kneel with him while he poked at it with his swagger stick. ‘Look here. If you take my advice, you’ll travel by night. The Boer will pick you off in the daylight. By night, you’ll stand a better chance. They’ll be lighting fires, so you’ll be able to spot them before they spot you. Cushion your boots with cloth if you’re walking on a stony terrain and use the compass. If there’s no moon to see it by, you’ll have to strike a match. But for God’s sake, not a Swan Vesta! They go up in a flare that’ll alert every Boer between here and Kimberley. Here, take these.’ He fished in his pocket and produced a slim package of American matches. ‘These are more discreet,’ he said, ‘but hide the light behind a rock nevertheless.’

“He added a few words of jolly nonsense to cheer us up. Even handed us an early Christmas present, in case we were held up and unable to get back in time for the regimental celebrations. The general was planning—at last—to give the men a few days’ rest. Coinciding with the holiday season and as a reward for a tough job dutifully done. He’d decided to let us stage some sporting events—”