Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-06-16
DARING AND DEATH
Vivid Word Picture of a Battle
Between British and Beers.
NO SOUND OF MARTIAL MUSIC
All is Very BusinessIke and Yet
Strangely Unreal.
WITH THE FIGHTING LINE
Copyright, 1900, by James Barnes.)

Special Correspondence Of The Evening Star.
CAPE TOWN, May IL, 1900.
As there is a curious sameness in the
character of the South African veldt SO
there is a certain likeness in all the fights
that the English army has had in the pres
ent war And as one looks back there Is a
composite recollection which perhaps is an
impression of them all. To describe this
impression would doubtless be quite as
good as to describe an actual occurrence,
for it might be one of several.
And what is it like? How does it impress
one whose business is not fighting. but
merely that of recording what he sees or
hears?
In the first place. battle is wholly diff
ferent from anything one has Imagined or
gathered from pictures or reading. 1t Is
utterly and absolutely void of grandeur or
of glamour; 1t has work-a-day aspect, the
modern battle, and yet it produces
strange sensation of unreality. So let us
take an all-day fight which may De one OF
any of the seven or eight that 1 nave seen
while with the western column.
The evening before rumors are rl1e. Inc
generals light burns late. 1t is whispered
about that lighting will begin at dayoreak'
but exactly where is uncertain. Inc BoerS
are the ones who have won the loss, tney
are so mobile and can change front SO
quickly. their positions are 30 well hidden,
and alas the scouting of the English Is
usually so miserable that the only fact
known is that the enemy Is in front.
At Break of Day.
The camp stirs at early dawn; 1T is afoot
Quicker than usual, perhaps; there is no
brgle call; the men awake in their blankets,
shake themselves and move about; there Is
a rattle of accouterments: little fires are lit,
and the early coffee is brewed. 1t and tea
are Tommy's fighting draughts. Ihere IL
no sign of hushed expectancy or nervous
ness the privateS joke and talk ana laueh'
they squat about the little fires feeding
them with bits of bush and brushwood. II
Sc ems like any other day save for the GAL
Looping orderles from headquarters, "ho'
Gathering here and there, change from one
regiment to another. LAUNDERING batteries
of artillery move out through the camp
lines Roll call follows as the companies
are formed, and as the sun rises the
shrouded masses dissolve themselves INTO
lines of dusty yellow.
Without martial music or pomp OF cere-
mony the army moves, and the non-com-
Blatant falls in somewhere or anywhere ana
moves forward, too. privileged person,
he NAV go where he likes. lie Is subject
to no orders. His danger zone Is bounded
by his curiosity and his scent for news
Forward:
There is line of kopjes rolling in sue
cesson down to the bush-dotted banks OF
a river The Beers are there. But in the
spreading morning light these kopJes look
as innocent any of the hundreds OF
other mighty hummocks that have been
passed in safety. There IS no hutterlnS
flag to mark the enemys position, there
are no bristling guns, no line or earth
works, nothing but the bare, rocky mus
rising out of the gray-Sreen plain On TO
the left and right stretch the lines of men
in khaki they do not look like the spruce
soldiers one sees at Aldershot or swag-
eering down Piccadily. Their uniforms
are weather stained, the heavy helmets are
dented and battered. their trousers are in
rents. their boots in some cases are held
together with strips of cloth or leather,
their faces are bearded and burnt red
bronze with the sun. But they go from
left to right and forward always, heads
up and shoulders back, with their heavy
harness weighing them down ana their
pouches filled with cleaning brass car
tridges The rifles form a threatening
fringe above.
The Highland Brigade, with kits, show.
ing black line, Is In the van. Iheir KHAKI
aprons make the Highlanders look from
the front like medieval blacksmiths but
they have the old Highland swing, and
along in the fighting front with each COM
pany marches the piper carrying his pipes
and armed with nothing but long Scot
fish knife.
Along the Line.
You turn and look back, behind the last
tramping line. Here come the ambuiances,
making the only bit of color in the whole
picture with their great fiuttering red cross
flags They draw up in a little hollow in
the rear, where they wait for the loads
that will soon be theirs. You can see the
doctors and their assistants stretching an
awning SO they can do their work In the
shade There is halt, and the dun col
ored ranks sink down in the grass. The
men light their pipes; two or three take
ont scraps of newspapers and begin to
read. They are already at work on the
water bottles, although they cannot yet be
thirsty.
An officer standing with group of others
passes silver cigarette case. They laugh
and talk 1t might be a field day. You
begin to think that perhaps, after all. the
kopies that are lined up ahead are empty.
Perhaps they know 1t.
Little Dots on the Plain.
But suddenly little dots appear down on
the plain. 1 always look at those dots with
wonder and admiration. They may be
Lancers they may be Hussars or Mounted
Infantry If they are colonials. perhaps. 30
much the better. But, whoever they are.
they are the feelers Of the fighting force,
tho advance pilots al 1t were. who tell
Of dangers ahead and shoals to be avoided
They move to right end left: surely the
kopjes must be empty, for the dots are al
most in the dark blue shadows at the foot.