Chapter IX The Armistice and Our Return Home
Accordingly only Koehl’s detachment remained at Kasama, with instructions to follow us a day’s march behind. Early on November 13th I followed Spangenberg’s detachment with our main body. I had gone on ahead on a bicycle, selected the site for our camp and was waiting for the troops to come up when Captain Müller appeared before me, also on his bicycle, and reported that an armistice had been concluded. An English motor-cyclist who was to have brought the news to the British troops had apparently passed through Kasama and been captured there by Koehl’s detachment. Thanks to the English telephone line, along which we were marching, we were soon able to understand each other, and thus did we get the news of the armistice.
The telegram of the motor-cyclist ran as follows:
“12. 11. 18. To be fwded via M.B. cable and despatch rider.
“Send following to Colonel von Lettow Vorbeck under white flag. The Prime Minister of England has announced that an armistice was signed at 5 hours on Nov. 11th, and that hostilities on all fronts cease at 11 hours on Nov. 11th. I am ordering my troops to cease hostilities forthwith unless attacked, and of course I conclude that you will do the same. Conditions of armistice will be forwarded you immediately I receive them. Meanwhile I suggest that you should remain in your present vicinity in order to facilitate communication.—General van Deventer. As message is also being sent to Livingstone, it is important Karwunfor receives this same time as enemy; every effort must be made to get message to him to-day.”
Our feelings were very mixed. Personally, as I had no knowledge of the real state of affairs in Germany, I felt convinced that the conclusion of hostilities must have been favourable, or at least not unfavourable to Germany.
Spangenberg’s detachment, which was on ahead, had to be told as soon as possible, and I immediately set out on my bicycle after it, taking with me Haouter, a Landsturm soldier, as my sole companion. About half-way, Reissmann’s cyclist patrol of Spangenberg’s detachment met me and reported that Captain Spangenberg had arrived at the Chambezi. Although I had no doubts about the correctness of the English news, our position was very uncomfortable. We were in a district where there was little food, and were therefore compelled to move on from place to place. This circumstance had already compelled us to reconnoitre and secure for ourselves the crossings of the Chambezi. If hostilities were resumed we must be certain of a safe crossing. This was a burning question, as the rainy season, meaning a great rise of this river, was near at hand. We had already encountered heavy storms. I had, therefore, much to discuss with Captain Spangenberg and the English officer who would presumably be on the far bank of the river. In any case we must continue to devote our energies to buying or getting food. Full of that idea, I sent my companion back and cycled myself with Reissmann’s patrol to Spangenberg’s detachment.
We arrived about eight o’clock, when it was quite dark. Captain Spangenberg was away on a reconnaissance, but Assistant-Paymaster Dohmen and other Europeans looked after me well as soon as they learnt of my arrival. I was able to convince myself that the supply depot of Kasama really existed. I tasted jam and other good things which had been unknown to me hitherto.
When Captain Spangenberg came back he told me that he had already heard of the armistice through the English. After I had gone to bed in his tent, he brought me about midnight a telegram from General Deventer which had been brought in by the English. It had come from Salisbury. It stated that Germany had accepted the unconditional handing-over of all troops operating in East Africa. Deventer added that he demanded the immediate surrender of all our English prisoners of war, and that we should march to Abercorn. All our arms and ammunition were to be given up at Abercorn, but our Europeans were to be allowed to keep their weapons.
The full text of the telegram ran as follows:
“13. 11. 18. To Norforce. Karwunfor via Fife.
“Send following to Colonel von Lettow Vorbeck under white flag: War Office London telegraphs that clause seventeen of the armistice signed by the German Govt. provides for unconditional surrender of all German forces operating in East Africa within one month from Nov. 11th.
“My conditions are. First: hand over all allied prisoners in your hands, Europeans and natives to the nearest body of British troops forthwith. Second: that you bring your forces to Abercorn without delay, as Abercorn is the nearest place at which I can supply you with food. Third: that you hand over all arms and ammunition to my representative at Abercorn. I will, however, allow you and your officers and European ranks to retain their personal weapons for the present in consideration of the gallant fight you have made, provided that you bring your force to Abercorn without delay. Arrangements will be made at Abercorn to send all Germans to Morogoro and to repatriate German Askari. Kindly send an early answer, giving probable date of arrival at Abercorn and numbers of German officers and men, Askari and followers.”
This was news enough if it were confirmed, and showed the desperate situation of the Fatherland. Nothing else could account for the surrender of a force still maintaining itself proudly and victoriously in the field.
Without being in a position to examine the ground in detail, I had to tell myself that the conditions imposed upon us were inevitable, and must be loyally carried out. I met the British Commissioner, who had come from Kasama to the Chambezi rubber factory, at the river at eight o’clock on the morning of the 14th. There I handed to him a telegram to His Majesty, in which I reported what had happened and added that I would act accordingly. The Commissioner told me that the German fleet had revolted, and that a revolution had also broken out in Germany; further, if he was to accept a report which was official but had not yet been confirmed, the Kaiser had abdicated on November 10th. All this news seemed to me very improbable, and I did not believe it until it was confirmed on my way home months later.
All our troops, native as well as Europeans, had always held the conviction that Germany could not be beaten in this war, and were resolved to fight on to the last. Of course it was doubtful whether our resources would last out if the war lasted several years more, but we faced all possibilities tranquilly for at least another year. The men were well armed, equipped and fed, and the strategic situation at the moment was more favourable than it had been for a long time. The Askari, it is true, saw that our numbers were dwindling—we were still 155 Europeans, comprising 30 officers, medical officers and higher officials, 1,168 Askari, and about 3,000 other natives—but whenever I discussed this topic with one of my orderlies he always assured me: “I will always stick by you and fight on till I fall.” Many others spoke to the same effect, and I am convinced that it was not merely a case of empty words.
In the afternoon of the 14th November, I cycled back to our main body and told the Europeans what I had learned at the Chambezi, and that it was my intention to carry out the conditions which had been officially communicated to me, conditions the accuracy of which I did not doubt.
Before the prisoners were released Colonel Dickinson, the most senior of them, came to look for me to say good-bye. He said that his period of captivity (it had been more than three months) had given him an interesting insight into our camp life, our marching methods, and the way in which we conducted our actions. He was full of praise for the simplicity of our arrangements and the absence of friction which distinguished our operations. There is no doubt he had been using his eyes.
Our Askari were now informed of the turn of affairs. It was to be anticipated that there would be difficulties when it came to settling up with them for their pay, which was years overdue, and the same applied to the carriers. Yet it was a matter of honour for us to see that these people, who had fought and worked for us with such devotion, should receive their rights. The sum involved—about one and a half million rupees—was relatively small, and so Lieutenant Kempner was sent out on a bicycle to get this sum from the English, or induce them to procure it as quickly as possible. Our repeated efforts were without result. We were told at different times and places that the matter was “under consideration” by the War Office, and there it remained. I never even received a reply to my telegram to the German Government in Berlin. There was nothing for it but to draw up lists of all the back pay that was due, and give the individual carriers and Askari certificates against it.
We then marched by short stages through Kasama to Abercorn. The British gave us further details about the armistice conditions. It appeared that not “unconditional surrender” (as General van Deventer had said originally) but “unconditional evacuation” was what was required. I made several protests against the interpretation of the British War Office, which made the word “evacuation” include surrender and disarming, but I received no answer either from the Governments of the allied countries and the United States, or from the German Government. In view of the doubtful interpretation of the word “evacuation,” I considered whether I should not cut short negotiations and march to join the Belgians or somewhere else. But in comparison to the whole series of peace conditions which affected the Protective Force, this seemed a small point, and in the end I decided to go to Dar-es-Salaam, as General van Deventer required, though certainly in the expectation that in accordance with the terms the English would immediately send us back from there to Germany. As will appear later that expectation was not fulfilled.
Not far north of Kasama we came up with the enemy with whom we had fought our last engagement. They were the 1st battalion of the 4th King’s African Rifles. I had to refuse the invitation of Colonel Hawkins (their estimable commander, who was barely thirty years old), communicated to me on the march by Colonel Dickinson, to bring all the German officers to lunch, much though I appreciated such an expression of chivalry. Yet Colonel Dickinson did not neglect to pay me his promised visit on one of the following days, and we had a very pleasant hour over a cup of coffee. I must record that the officers of this battalion, even in the somewhat difficult circumstances in which they were placed, behaved with great tact and with that regard which is due to an honourable foe. Hawkins told me that for reasons of supply he would not have been able to follow us any further, and in fact we had to help him out with cattle, of which we had an ample stock.
Lieutenant Kempner had gone on to Abercorn on his bicycle. When he came back I went there myself in a car which General Edwards had sent for me. My reception by General Edwards, as well as his Staff, was very kind. I put forward my point of view to General Edwards that I did not recognize any duty to surrender of our arms, but was ready to do so if I was thereby conferring some advantage, not on ourselves individually, but on the German Government. I was then informed that the arms we surrendered would form part of the quantity which Germany had to hand over to the Allied Governments in accordance with the terms of the armistice. Further, the surrender of our arms should not have the character of a laying-down of arms.
As regards the Askari and carriers, I was informed that the English would take them to an internment camp at Tabora, until the question of their pay had been settled and their repatriation arranged. The Europeans were to be interned at Dar-es-Salaam until their ship left, presumably, therefore, for a few days. Not only the Askari but the Europeans at Dar-es-Salaam were kept behind barbed wire for a month and a half and more.
The troops arrived at Abercorn on the 25th November. The English flag was waving on the parade-ground where the handing-over of arms took place, and this shows that the character of a surrender of our arms was not altogether avoided. What we handed over was as follows:
1 Portuguese gun, 37 machine guns (7 German, 16 heavy and 14 light English), 1,071 English and Portuguese rifles, 208,000 rounds, 40 rounds of artillery ammunition. The English were mighty quick at getting away the surrendered material. There was not a single modern German rifle among it! The strength of our troops was: the Governor, 20 officers, 5 medical officers, a doctor of the Voluntary Medical Detachment, a senior veterinary officer, a senior chemist, a field-telegraph officer, 125 European other ranks, 1,156 Askari and 1,598 carriers. The arrival of individual detachments was delayed for hours by heavy rain.
The camp for the Askari was surrounded by a thick thorn hedge, and was much too small. This led to a good deal of bad feeling among our Askari, which vented itself in frequent demonstrations against the English Askari. But at length our people resigned themselves to the uncomfortable conditions, and even General Edwards realized that the treatment provided an opportunity for unnecessary friction. We were not ordinary prisoners of war, whose escape he had to fear, but had given ourselves into his hands voluntarily in the performance of an unpleasant duty. He took precautions against similar occurrences during our march to Bismarckburg, and we went there with Hawkins’ battalion and without the slightest friction. On November 28th we bivouacked by the mighty waterfall of the river Kalambo, three hours’ march from Bismarckburg. Here we remained several days, as the departure of the steamer from that place was being continually delayed. Many of my officers continually badgered me to know whether we could not fight on. These suggestions were far from comfortable, as I had already quite enough to do to consider how we should get out of so unpleasant a situation. But putting aside the difficulties involved, I could only feel glad and proud of such a revelation of true soldierly spirit, a spirit which did not shrink, even after we had handed over all our arms, from storming an enemy camp and once more procuring for ourselves the means to continue the war.
On December 3rd I received a telegram, dated the 2nd December, from General van Deventer. It ran as follows:
“I beg to acknowledge receipt of your telegram setting forth your formal protest against your troops being treated as prisoners of war. This will duly be forwarded to the War Office. Meanwhile I am sure you will recognise that pending the receipt through the War Office of a communication on the subject of the German Govt. I have had no choice but to act in accordance with the orders of the War Office, and treat your force as prisoners of war.”
The same day the first lot of troops for transport went on board four ships. One of them, the St. George, had, in addition to its crew of English bluejackets and an escort officer, only the Governor and the officers of our force with their black servants. For food the English gave us corned beef, dates and biscuits, and Dr. Huber, the veterinary officer, looked after our bodily welfare here on board as carefully as he had done for so many years in the bush. The British commander, the escort officer and the whole crew were extraordinarily kind. After a short stop on the evening of the 3rd, at the Belgian station of Vua, a violent storm arose in the night. It tore away the awning and, among other things, carried off Dr. Huber’s coat. The English sailors did all they possibly could for the Germans, who were quite wet through.
On December 5th we arrived at Kigoma. The place was under Belgian control, and the Belgians received us with a hospitality which could not have been anticipated. They displayed a tactful reserve to us which had never been shown before. Tables covered with cloths had been set out for all the Europeans, a sight we had not seen for years. Some red wine was produced. The Belgian Governor had sent his orderly officer, who spoke German fluently, to receive us officially, and I was glad to take the opportunity, before we started on our railway journey, to thank the Belgian commandant for the camaraderie shown us, camaraderie which always exists among soldiers, even between enemies, when they have a mutual regard for each other.
Among the English, too, examples of discourtesy on the part of individual officers, who apparently had not been brought up in the South, were absolutely exceptional. The senior men immediately adopted a tactful attitude, whereas one or two juniors did otherwise—for example, they were inconsiderate enough to want to keep a German invalid out of the compartment. We Europeans were very well looked after on the train, and it was like peace time to get a good night’s rest by letting down the bunks and using a leather pillow.
There was quite a crowd of Germans on the station at Tabora. They complained of many cases of theft on the part of the Belgians and English. It is undoubtedly true that such outrages had taken place. We stopped for the night at Dodoma and next morning had an opportunity of fetching water and having a bath.
The news of the approach of our train had reached Morogoro, and when we arrived there in the afternoon we once more found the German women whom we had left behind us in and about Morogoro two years before. They had tea and coffee waiting for us. They had arranged tables and baked plenty of rolls and cakes. In addition they had got the finest fruit for us. The English were almost as much interested as the Germans. Besides a very amiable elderly medical officer I have a particularly lively recollection of a tall, lanky corporal who had apparently drunk a whole series of glasses to our health before our train arrived. I managed to slip away from him at last.
We reached Dar-es-Salaam at seven o’clock on the morning of December 8th. The Europeans were well housed in tents in a camp within a barbed-wire fence. Food was good and plentiful, and we were able to buy necessaries of all kinds cheaply from the English canteen. Governor Schnee and I were received by the Chief of Staff of the British commander, General Sheppard, and conducted to our very pretty house outside the camp. General van Deventer had very kindly sent a luncheon there as a welcome to us. Major Kraut, Captain Spangenberg, and Dr. Huber were all quartered here. We found General Wahle, who had been left behind sick at Ubene and fallen into the enemy’s hands a few months back. He had quite recovered. We had a common mess and our freedom of movement out of the house was only limited to the extent that we had always to be accompanied by a British officer as escort. At the start these gentlemen were very unpunctual, but gradually quite tolerable relations were established between us, and I had an opportunity of visiting acquaintances in Dar-es-Salaam and arranging my personal affairs. A car was also usually placed at my disposal. Major Hosken, the Commandant of the prison camp, who had previously shown himself extremely considerate to the captured German women and children in Tanga, now again devoted himself to preserve us from unnecessary annoyance.
On our railway journey we had already been surprised to find almost more English Europeans at every station than we had in the whole of the Protective Force. Dar-es-Salaam itself literally swarmed with white troops. I estimated their number at not less than five thousand, and hundreds and hundreds of motor lorries and cars were awaiting repairs in the motor transport park.
This close concentration of human beings revealed its dangers when Spanish influenza made its appearance. Escort officers told me that frequently five or seven English officers had died of this disease at Dar-es-Salaam. We soon came across its traces among ourselves. Infection had probably taken place while we were on the ship on Lake Tanganyika, and subsequently on the train. It spread from man to man in the concentration camps in Dar-es-Salaam. Captain Spangenberg was going about with me in the town shortly after his arrival at Dar-es-Salaam. Then he felt ill, and though his iron constitution had successfully overcome all the hardships of the campaign, he died in hospital on December 18th of influenza and inflammation of the lungs.
Almost all the Europeans in our camp were attacked by it, and it was very sad that in addition to Captain Spangenberg, nine other Europeans, in all, therefore, ten per cent. of our strength, succumbed. Numbers of our Askari interned at Tabora also died.
My comings and goings often took me to the Administration Staff (corresponding more or less to our Commandant on the Lines of Communication). After much questioning I had found it in my old house which I had occupied before the war. Among intelligent Englishmen I found the view prevailing that Germany must have colonies on economic grounds, as well as on account of her over-populousness. England was considered to have too many colonies. For the time being, at any rate, she had not sufficient suitable personnel to manage them.
If the English, when telling us of the armistice, insisted on our coming to Dar-es-Salaam at once, in order that we should be transported punctually—that is, by the 12th December—they showed no haste on their own part to carry out the terms of that armistice. Our embarkation was continually postponed, and, finally, it did not take place until the 17th January, 1919, five years to the day after I had landed at Dar-es-Salaam.
To describe my return home in detail would furnish material for a whole book and could hardly be excelled for tragi-comic events. In addition to 114 German soldiers, we had 107 women and 87 children on board, and an escort of 200 British soldiers.
Voyaging by Cape Town, we reached Rotterdam at the end of February. The large crowd of Germans who turned up to meet us at the quay showed me, to my surprise, that our East African war had been watched very closely in the homeland. Many Dutch also gave us proofs of goodwill.
In cold truth our small band, which at the most comprised some 300 Europeans and about 11,000 Askari, had occupied a very superior enemy force for the whole war. According to what English officers told me, 137 Generals had been in the field, and in all about 300,000 men had been employed against us. The enemy’s losses in dead would not be put too high at 60,000, for an English Press notice stated that about 20,000 Europeans and Indians alone had died or been killed, and to that must be added the large number of black soldiers who fell. The enemy had left 140,000 horses and mules behind in the battle area. Yet in spite of the enormously superior numbers at the disposal of the enemy, our small force, the rifle strength of which was only about 1,400 at the time of the armistice, had remained in the field always ready for action and possessed of the highest determination.
I believe it was the transparency of our aims, the love of our Fatherland, the strong sense of duty and the spirit of self-sacrifice which animated each of our few Europeans and communicated themselves, consciously or unconsciously, to our brave black soldiers that gave our operations that impetus which they possessed to the end. In addition there was a soldierly pride, a feeling of firm mutual co-operation and a spirit of enterprise without which military success is impossible in the long run. We East Africans know only too well that our achievements cannot be compared with the military deeds and devotion of those in the homeland. No people in history has ever done more.
If we East Africans received so kindly a reception in the homeland it was because everyone seemed to think that we had preserved some part of Germany’s soldierly traditions, had come back home unsullied, and that the Teutonic sense of loyalty peculiar to us Germans had kept its head high even under the conditions of war in the tropics.
It is true that that feeling has suffered eclipse in many of our people under the impression of the present tribulations of our Fatherland. But it is part of the flesh and blood of us all, and it is just that enthusiastic welcome which hundreds of thousands of our countrymen gave us that strengthens our conviction that, in spite of the momentary distractions and perplexities, the healthy spirit of our German people will prevail again and once more tread the upward path.
Footnotes
1 M. Merker, “Die Masai,” Berlin, 1904 (2nd Edition, 1910).
2 Askari are “soldiers,” not a distinct tribe.
3 Seitenschlag.
4 We have no corresponding rank. He is a reservist who has served as a “One-year Volunteer,” but has not yet done enough reserve training to qualify as an Officer in the Reserve.
5 The English Government issued to us articles of food for the English prisoners which we could not get for ourselves.