A West Pointer with the Boers: $b personal narrative of Colonel J. Y. F. Blake, commander of the Irish brigadeBlake, John Y. Fillmore
History
A West Pointer with the Boers: $b personal narrative of Colonel J. Y. F. Blake, commander of the Irish brigade
Blake, John Y. Fillmore
South African War, 1899-1902
About twenty feet from the two equally certain owners of that sorrel
pony, stood the Father's pony. I pointed him out to the Father and
told him I thought that some of the boys had played a trick on him by
removing the green rag from his pony and transferring it to the Boer's.
The Father smiled and gave the Boer his horse, but I think to-day that
that Boer is convinced that Father Van Hecke was trying to steal his
horse. Father Van Hecke is a noble, good man with a warm, sympathetic
heart, and as such he will always be remembered by the boys of the
Irish Brigade.
Already the last of the Boers had disappeared over Laing's Nek, when
the boys reported that they were ready for their rifles, so each
secured his piece, and off we started without further delay. All were
worrying for fear the Boers would have a fight with the English before
we arrived. After travelling about twenty minutes we began to feel the
biting cold and I was asked to give them a gallop.
I told them the idea was a good one, but I had grave fears about the
consequences. "Oh, that's all right. We are all right, Colonel, we have
shown these horses what we can do." I started off on a slow gallop, and
within two minutes at least one-third of the boys were deposited on the
veldt, and it took the other two-thirds about half an hour to round
up the loose horses and put matters into marching order again. After
that I had no further delay, but I never repeated the gallop until near
Dundee, where every man sat his horse in true cavalryman style. Late
that night we overtook the Boers at Newcastle, the boys being very
tired and stiff, but none complained, for they had, so far, not missed
the first fight.
What an enthusiastic and patriotic body of men those Irish boys were!
They seemed to feel that if they could give England one good blow,
their happiness would be an assured fact. The very fact that the
Irish, where ever you find them, so utterly despise the English, and
so earnestly long to blow the whole English race into eternity, is in
itself sufficient proof that the English rule in Ireland is cruel and
brutal.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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