Could I have known that the war would last so long, I might from the
beginning have taken notes. They would have brought back memories in a way
pleasant to me now, and perhaps also to those who have asked me to write
down my adventures.
Often it occurred to me to keep a diary, but I was obliged to give up the
idea because my clothes were sometimes so thoroughly drenched that the
letters in my pocket were not readable. Later on, when clothes were scarce
and pockets past mending, I often made the unpleasant discovery that caused
the fool, on his journey from the land of Kokanje, to cry to the King: 'We
have ridden at such a breakneck pace, see, everything has slipped through
this little hole!' Now I am obliged to write down my adventures without any
notes, so dates, numbers, and names of places will occasionally be missing.
It stands to reason that I--being an exile in a strange country, in the fort
of ... in ..., cut off from the world outside and without any official
reports--should simply limit myself to my own personal experience. And,
lastly, I must apologize to my readers for so often speaking of myself and
my friends; but that is inevitable in this tale.
I shall pass rapidly over the first part of my life on commando. If my
memory plays me false--which is not very probable, as I still have a lively
recollection of the events--I shall be grateful for correction.
July, 1901.
