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I wept for joy when I found dear Dad Wright there. Before we got to Mahenge I had to shoot four of the five horses I had left Morogoro with. They were all ill with horse sickness and one can imagine my feelings especially as some of them were the most beautiful animals it had been my lot to see. On our trek south we forded several rivers swarming with crocks. Our camp outside Mahenge was a haven, situated in glorious open bush country, teeming with game - the only part of East Africa where I would like to have farmed. We left Maheng [ S ] Collett, Lynne, lynne.

We left Mahenge on 24th of December and reached Mohanga Mission that evening. The next day was Christmas Day, which turned out to be just about the most grueling day of my life - up and down heavily wooded bamboo country, cutting our way through with our bayonets and pangas. I was posted to Machine Gun Company and when a mule got stuck or tired we had to carry the boxes of ammunition and put them back on the packs. We slipped and slithered down steep slopes all that night and finally go to the main track from Mahenge to the South, at about Dawn.

I happened to be on guard and just as it was getting light, heard the sound of champing bits coming up the hill, so woke the officer in charge of the machine gun. As it got light we could see a large column of Germans around the Mahaga Mission about yards below us, all packing and saddling up. I had grown up on a springbok farm at Graaaf Reinet so could use a rifle and could have picked off the man on the stretcher, being carried by about 6 askaries, but we had orders not to shoot as Smuts wanted the General alive.

We watched the Germans finally disappear over the ridge behind the Mission and expected to hear the firing and clatter of Machine Guns any moment but waited in vain all that day. The next day we heard that von Letto, together with the last of his troops had slipped between two of our columns and had disappeared into the Refugie Swamps. As it turned out he was one of the last Germans to surrender, and became a great and respected friend of General Smuts. On many occasions on our trek from Arusha to Mpapwa, all through that dry country, von Letto who was ahead of us, could have poisoned wells or food and held up our columns for months, but he did not do so.

This was virtually the end of the East Africa Campaign, except for a reorganized motorcycle regiment, which chased him through the jungle and swamps all the way to Portuguese Territory, where he finally surrendered some time after Armistice had been declared. The South African Expedition was called off but my dear old half section volunteered for this exercise and I never saw him again as he died peacefully form the effects of the war on his farm near Bathurst. I still have his sisters letters to me. By now our horses had all died so we had a long march from Iringa across some large rivers, one of which was the Great Ruaha which we crossed by Pont.

To our dismay and anger it was here while waiting for the Pont that we found the wrappings of many of our comforts and parcels from home which had never reached us. As a reprisal we looted the big A. Supply Dump that night. When we reached the railway at Dodoma we were in clover with good rations including condensed milk, tinned fruit etc. Our canteens were well equipped - we even had an open air cinema. A rugby match was arranged but before half time more than half the players were out on the sidelines as sick as dogs. We left Dodoma in trucks and reached Dar-es-Salaam eventually.

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Here we were billeted in tents on the side of the harbour and we used to swim out to the two wrecks, which had been sunk by the Germans across the entrance to the Harbour. One of these was very near to our camp so we used to swim out there and dive off from it into the lovely warm water.

He was the Manager of J. From there we were in a large convoy, which kept well out in the Atlantic. Opposite the Bay of Biscay we struck terrible weather and most of the troops went down with sea sickness. I was so ill I could not move so lay up amongst the anchor chains for the rest of the voyage.

Our camp was inside Port Staden on the hill overlooking Plymouth Sound. Here we again came under strict discipline under Sgt. Major Micky Rann as our instructor. I shall never forget Christmas Eve, which our section celebrated in an Hotel in Plymouth.

It was the first occasion in my life that I had drunk beer - or for that matter any alcohol, and as a result ended up being horribly ill on the ferry going across to Turnchapel that night. Some of the blokes could not even make it up the hill to our camp at Fort Staden.

Some including my half section Mac ended up in the Guardroom that night. We were very glad when we got our disembarkation leave and Murray and I went to London and Aberdeen. We spent most of our time flag wagging out in the lovely Devon countryside using heliographs, and doing gas drill. The big day came on the 1st March with England covered in snow, we embarked at Southampton in a small troop ship for le Havre, it was a rough crossing and most of our troops were sea sick again as we were battened down in the holds. We spent all night at Hafleur Camp in tents, 4 to a tent. Here we had intensive Gunnery and Signaling training.

It was really a month of hell so our section was very pleased to get on a draft, which left for Rouen - sleeping forty in a truck.

As the train pulled in at Bethune station, we came under our first heavy shell fire, and once again I saw what frightened men could do. While foraging through my box of old letters and photographs, I came across one of my old soldiers diaries. It gives a description of my first experience of coming under shellfire in the western front.

It is dated Sunday 7th April Slept cold with only two blankets. Did nothing all morning so went for a walk all over the valley. We were shelled heavily last night with gas. Tuesday 9th: Did not sleep a wink due to heavy shelling all round but fell in at 8.

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By the time we got to our gun positions at 11 am there was a dense ground mist and visibility zero, and both batteries, ours at Apple and Acorn came under heavy artillery fire all afternoon and when a German plane swooped low over our guns we knew we had been spotted. I grabbed a rifle and fired several rounds and could hear the bullets hit the plane and saw the pilots hand as he banked away. It was about this time our gallant Major was hit but he carried on.

Six of our chaps were wounded. On two occasions we were ordered to remove our breechblocks as Brydon thought the Huns were on us. Wednesday 10th: Had no sleep at all. Had to pull all our guns into a new position and carried shells and timber all day.

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Much quieter in the afternoon. Got all our guns firing from the new position. Major Brydon, who was in doctors hands at the billet, slipped away and came to direct operations. Carried on all night; we were all dead beat. Thursday 11th: Had to unload shells. Our guns fired all morning and Major Brydon, Lt. Charter and Lt. Rose-Innes were taking cover together when they got a direct hit from a 4. My half section Macdonald went to hospital with a slight wound. Charter was killed and Rose-Innes wounded.

It proved to be the last shell fired that day. We slept at the billets again and were shelled that night. Got orders to get ready to move. Had to load up all quarter-stores got news that fellows at battery got hell. Guns were pulled out and we shifted all stores to new posies at Neux le Mines and moved up munitions. Saturday 13th: Had no sleep that night. Pulled all guns into posies and unloaded shells. Were relieved that night at 9. Did a tremendous amount of damage.

Our section on guard and had to offload shells again. By now our shoulders were raw from carrying shells.

We were relieved at 9. I had a good bath, went to see Uecky and Thornton at Labourse. Had a good nights rest and went up to guns at 9. Had a hard days firing, firing all night - very rotten night.

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