Tip & Run

by Edward Paice

  On the Rovuma delta, three-quarters of the ‘condemned’ men in da Silveira’s command were sick by July 1916 on account of the ‘ignorance and stupidity of the soldiers’8 in not boiling their water or taking quinine, and a huge number had to be shipped away from the horrifically insalubrious stretch of coast and out of the colony. Those who remained had to confront persistent attacks launched across the Rovuma by Sprockhoff. All were repulsed but, as one Portuguese captain lamented,

  the exhausting life on the swampy bank of the Rovuma, with the deleterious effect of an unforgiving climate, the nervous depression caused by the proximity of the enemy, without the compensation of good and regular food drained the strength of almost all the troops, who were reduced to the most abject physical state. By night, in the trenches and posts and lookouts, there was the humidity, the haze of the cacimbo season, and the cold; by day, shaking with fever, unable to rest because of the searing heat in the tents, everywhere became a veritable hell.9

  By the end of June all available vessels were ferrying the sick from Kionga. It was a ‘tragic sight’.10 Of the 1,000 men of the 21st Infantry Regiment (3rd Battalion) which had formed the backbone of the Second Expeditionary Force, casualties had risen to 102 deaths and more than 600 sick and ‘missing’ in various hospitals around the colony. Within these totals, combat accounted for just nineteen of the casualties. The expedition’s medical officer, Captain Sá Teixeira, made the situation abundantly clear to Lisbon: in his opinion Europeans simply could not be expected to survive for long in this corner of Africa. But his warnings went unheeded. Even as the ‘Battle of Namiranga’ (or of Namaca, no one was quite sure of its name) was taking place a decree was passed in Lisbon, framed in the usual bombastic and curiously anachronistic language, which authorised the despatch of yet another expeditionary force to Portuguese East Africa.

  The size of Portugal’s Third Expeditionary Force,* 5,000-strong, showed that Lisbon was as ambitious as ever to play its full part in the offensive against von Lettow-Vorbeck as Smuts pushed the main German force south towards Portuguese East Africa. The expedition was the initiative of the Union Sagrada government formed in March 1916, and its ill-trained troops began embarking on 29 May. By early July the elderly General Ferreira Gil, another political appointee whose most recent post was that of director of Lisbon’s Colégio Militar, had reached Palma. His orders were vague, but the general intention was ambitious: an advance across the Rovuma to Mikindani and Lindi was envisaged, followed by a sweep west towards Tabora and the advancing Belgians. The Governor-General reckoned that it would take just three months to capture the whole south-eastern region of German East Africa.

  Unfortunately, Lisbon’s obsession with upholding the ‘prestige’ of the Republic, and fear that the war in East Africa might end without it even having set foot in German territory, was matched only by the total inability of its forces to fulfil Portuguese ambitions. Insufficient transport and the immediate debilitation of his troops by disease meant that Gil felt he was in no position to accede to the wishes of his superiors let alone those of Smuts, who supported the idea of a Portuguese advance on Liwale. Gil’s immediate preoccupation was to try to move his headquarters to Mocímboa da Rovuma, 100 miles upriver, in the hope of improving the health of his men by abandoning the base at Palma. But as his troops arrived in the colony in dribs and drabs, the last as late as September 1916, Gil could not contemplate an offensive for months after his own arrival. In the meantime all he could do was reinforce the border posts along the Rovuma, and create a strategic reserve at Negomano (which was successfully defended against a German cross-border raid on 28 August).

  Once Gil’s force was complete, the pressure from Lisbon to advance mounted still further. Telegram after telegram exhorted him to act. ‘Our prestige as a belligerent nation will be considerably diminished and our interests as a colonial nation prejudiced if an offensive against the Germans be not at once undertaken by the decided invasion of the territory beyond the Rovuma’, read one; while another informed him ‘the government assume the responsibility of affirming that at the present time it is better to face a difficult and dangerous action than to remain inactive’.11 As early as July Smuts had also pressed his ally ‘not to run the risk of arriving late or of [rendering] our operations useless’; a ‘rapid offensive’12 was urgently required of him. Had Gil been able to fulfil the grandiose ambitions of Lisbon, his advance could theoretically have helped to end the war by September. In practice, however, it was absurdly unrealistic for either Smuts or the Portuguese government to have expected that 6,000 Portuguese troops and ten companies of askari could have swept up the 3,500 German troops who were, by September, in the vast south-east quadrant of German East Africa.

  By the middle of September, even though the most recent troops to arrive had undergone no training whatsoever, Gil could dither no longer. His initial plan had already been superseded by the arrival of the Royal Navy and British troops at the German port of Mikindani, but it was nevertheless towards Mikindani that three of Gil’s columns advanced from Nhica on 18 September. A week later he established his HQ at the port, enabling him to tell his political masters that he had at least linked up with his British allies; and another column, mostly comprising askari employed by the Companhia do Niassa, garrisoned posts along the Rovuma between Mocímboa da Rovuma and Lake Nyasa. Smuts, whose patience with Gil was almost exhausted, suggested a Portuguese advance through Newala and Masasi to Liwale, a considerable modification of Gil’s earlier ambitions to link up with the Belgians. If successful it would help in cornering Kraut and Wahle on the Mahenge plateau. But Gil took fright at Smuts’s plan and agreed only to advance through Newala, on the Makonde plateau, as far as Masasi and the Lukuledi River. It was not an overly taxing objective.

  As soon as ‘strong forces of Portuguese’ crossed the Rovuma and ‘invaded the highlands of Makonde’ von Lettow-Vorbeck guessed what was happening. ‘A report came in,’ he wrote, ‘which caused me to suppose that the landing of strong enemy forces at Kilwa, and the appearance of hostile detachments which, coming from the west towards Liwale, had arrived on the Mbaranganda River, formed part of a big convergent movement by the enemy against Liwale’. Apart from Sprockhoff ’s small detachment, which had continually harassed the Portuguese since the failure of their attempt to cross into German East Africa in May, von Lettow-Vorbeck now had three new companies of askari stationed inland of Lindi. But these two forces, in his opinion, were ‘rather too weak to enable [us] to turn against the Portuguese . . . with any prospect of a rapid and decisive success’.13 A larger force had to be cobbled together. At Mpotora, fifty miles north-east of Liwale, was von Boemcken’s detachment of two companies and Lieutenant Häuser’s Königsberg gun from Dar-es-Salaam. Captain Rothe was despatched to lead this force against the Portuguese, and Looff, who had successfully commanded land troops since the destruction of his cruiser, was ordered from the Rufiji delta to take overall charge of the offensive.

  This was the first time that von Lettow-Vorbeck had paid any attention to the Portuguese. He had little respect for what his officers called Britain’s ‘vassal state’,14 nor for what his askari called the shenzi ulaia – their ‘trashy soldiers’. But he did not want any enemy troops, even Portuguese soldiers, threatening him from the Makonde plateau. As a future location for supply dumps the high ground of the plateau offered many advantages, so Looff had to ensure that ‘it should not remain in the hands of the Portuguese’.15 But there was another motive, about which von Lettow-Vorbeck subsequently remained much more silent, for sending 1,000 troops south: the Makonde in German East Africa needed ‘pacifying’, and when Looff had dealt with the Portuguese he was told to restore order on the plateau.

  It took Looff, marching at the head of three companies, three weeks to reach his rendezvous with Rothe’s Abteilung. Much of it was through unmapped territory but Looff was guided by retired Major Gaston Schlobach, who kept him entertained with stories of living on his farm in Kilimanjaro di
strict and hunting. After the vicissitudes of living on the Rufiji, and the capture of Dar-es-Salaam, Looff ’s German companions were glad to escape the north, where ‘the enemy, the war and misery’ dominated every conversation. Living as best they could according to Schlobach’s motto ‘early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise’, they felt more like ‘colonial pioneers’16 than soldiers. On the other hand Major Stemmermann, who succeeded Looff as commander on the Rufiji, offered odds of 100–1 in favour of the capture of the column in its attempt to slip past the Allied troops at Kilwa. Although at times the enemy positions inland of Kilwa were clearly visible, Stemmermann lost his money and Looff ’s column pressed on southwards.

  Looff ’s objective was simple enough: to deny the key Portuguese positions access to water, which was scarce on the Makonde plateau. With the British in the coastal ports, however, he also had to be sure to guard his left flank against them and protect supply dumps in which Hinrichs had secreted much of the precious cargo from the Marie. Looff decided that the British would be best squared by a feint executed from the Kaiser Plantation at Mtama in the direction of Lindi. Captain Kaiser, a retired colonial soldier, knew every inch of his district and harassed the British first on one side and then the other of the Lukuledi River. The impression thus created was of a large force and the British ceased to send patrols too far inland, leaving Looff free to concentrate on the Portuguese. On 14 November he arrived at Masasi Mission for his rendezvous with Rothe, and with Hinrichs and Sprockhoff already in action on the plateau, Looff and Rothe set off to reconnoitre the old German boma at Newala, perched on the south-western rim of the Makonde plateau.

  The Portuguese ‘invasion’ of the Makonde plateau had not been easy. This strikingly beautiful massif rising 3,000 feet above sea level was criss-crossed by seasonal streams and dense miombo woodland, making the movement of troops difficult. It was perfect terrain for setting ambushes and, as early as 4 October, Sprockhoff had inflicted a heavy defeat on a column led by Captain Francisco Curado at Maúta. The Portuguese had, however, achieved their objective of occupying Newala and their left flank was seemingly secured by the garrison at Negomano, at the confluence of the Rovuma and Lujenda Rivers. The ejection of the tiny German force at Newala had occurred with hardly a shot being fired, though Gil’s increasingly self-congratulatory reports sent back to Lisbon referred to a ‘a fierce combat’.17 A column sent out to occupy Masasi, as agreed with Smuts, was less fortunate: intercepted by Rothe on the Kivambo Heights on 8 November, it was beaten back with serious losses, including that of the Portuguese commander, Major Leopoldo da Silva. This then was the position when Looff arrived: Masasi was still in German hands and the Portuguese were licking their wounds back at Newala.

  Newala was a well-constructed boma set right on the edge of the Makonde plateau. Its twenty-foot-high sloping walls made it almost impregnable, but its one weakness was serious. The fort only contained a small cistern and was reliant for water on wells one and a half miles away down the escarpment. This was Looff ’s first target. On 22 November Rothe’s 4/SchK and Tanga/K attacked the wells at dawn. The 1,000 Portuguese troops defending Ribeira de Newala were well entrenched and put up a fierce resistance for twelve hours, killing three German officers in the process. At dusk, Rothe ordered his askari to fix bayonets and the Portuguese were finally dislodged, leaving sixty dead on the battlefield. Some of the survivors fled south to the Rovuma, others withdrew up the escarpment to the fort. The next day it was surrounded and Looff unleashed a furious bombardment from Häuser’s Königsberg gun, a captured English 4.7-inch cannon and other smaller artillery pieces. Looff knew that thirst would eventually compel the Portuguese to surrender and the only threat to his encirclement would be the despatch of a column to relieve the fort.

  Captain Benedito de Azevedo’s relief column did not turn out to be a formidable threat. This hotch-potch, mostly sick force of 230 rifles and two mountain guns cobbled together from Maúta, Ntchichira, Sicumbiriro and Nangade was intercepted by Hinrichs’s 20/FK a mile from Newala on 28 November and retired on Maúta, whence it had come. That night the Portuguese troops at Newala, fed up with their ‘black and bitter’18 occupation of the boma and believing themselves to be surrounded by a force 2,000-strong, knew there was now no prospect of further outside help. The next night a pea-soup fog descended on the plateau – so thick that Looff was concerned about the agitation in his own askari’s ranks – and decided against a night offensive. At dawn, when he did advance, Newala was no longer occupied. The Portuguese troops – thirty officers, 810 other ranks and 400 porters – had fled in the night. Looff was livid, but Newala offered compensation aplenty. The departing troops had left everything behind, including vehicles, horses, mules, 100,000 rounds of ammunition, and a staggering quantity of provisions, rifles, and medical supplies. It was, in Looff ’s opinion, ‘the biggest haul from the enemy [during the campaign]’, and he concluded that ‘the English had supplied their ally well’.19

  While some of Looff ’s troops guarded the booty and prepared to move it as fast as possible, detachments were sent to chase the fleeing Portuguese. But only the rearguard of a total of some 2,500 men from Newala and its supporting posts on both sides of the border could be seen when they reached the Rovuma, heading in disarray for Mocímboa da Rovuma and Nangade ‘without even saying goodbye’. The chase was abandoned, Looff remarking that he was unable ‘to run all the way to the Cape’.20 Gil’s offensive lay in ruins, and von Lettow-Vorbeck ordered Rothe’s troops back to the Kilwa front to face the British while Looff completed a clearing-up operation on the Rovuma.

  In the ensuing days, all posts except Fábrica, north of the Kionga Triangle, were cleared of Portuguese troops. On 1 December Francisco Curado’s garrison at Nangade was bombarded by the Königsberg gun at a range of six miles, and turned tail. Mocímboa da Rovuma, Major Azambuja Martins’s HQ for the Masasi offensive, was burnt to the ground on 6 December. Even the 150 Portuguese troops at Negomano, who had distinguished themselves in August, decided that the best course of action was to march all the way back to the coast. Two weeks later the rains began and the Rovuma started to rise. Von Lettow-Vorbeck’s southern flank was now securely sealed, and the Makonde plateau was once again quiet.

  Even before the fall of Newala General Gil, languishing in Palma with ‘marsh anaemia’ since the middle of October, had asked to be relieved of his command. The Governor-General,Álvaro de Castro, took charge and ordered the reoccupation of the posts south of the Rovuma with what remained of Gil’s troops. A hundred and fifty Portuguese officers and 3,400 other ranks were now on the sick-list and, fearing a German attack on Palma, Castro ordered an evacuation of the port. The ‘Newala Campaign’ was over and Portugal had ‘learnt a bitter lesson about War’.21

  Politicians in Lisbon were unable to deny that Portugal’s troops had been put to flight, but the defeat was subjected to a radical revision. Great emphasis was placed on lauding ‘the heroic’ Leopoldo da Silva, who had lost his life in ‘one of the great actions of the colonial campaigns’22 at Kivambo. Much was also made of the ‘indomitable spirit of camaraderie’23 displayed by the Coluna de Sacrificio in trying to rescue Newala; for good measure Benedito de Azevedo and a Sergeant Machado were both awarded the Cruz de Guerra 2nd class. As for the flight from Newala – described by one participant as the ‘Epic of the Damned’* – it was recast as a ‘brilliant’ retirement. Even the Portuguese askari were found a place in this myth, and Corporal Ali was awarded the Cruz de Guerra for his conduct at Ribeira de Newala on 22 November. This was the extent to which the campaign had, as Gil’s Chief of Staff put it, ‘assumed a major importance for the nation in order to save its colonies’.24

  It was with some astonishment that Errol MacDonell, the British Consul, read his copy of the Lourenço Marques Guardian on Boxing Day 1916. There, in black and white, he saw that Portugal’s latest president, Bernardino Machado, claimed to have ‘at present 15,000 splendidly trained troops’ in Port
uguese East Africa who ‘were holding the Rovuma River from the Indian Ocean to Nyasa’; and that ‘six thousand additional troops were proceeding there from Portugal’. In a memo to the Foreign Office MacDonell remarked that ‘I can only state that President Machado must have been ill-informed in so far as the Luso-German frontier is concerned. Had the Portuguese taken up a line as suggested in this Press Article . . . the German East African campaign would now have ended.’25 Correlating information from his many agents, MacDonell concluded that the Portuguese had lost 800 rifles, fourteen machine-guns and two artillery pieces at Newala alone. Although it would be many months before von Lettow-Vorbeck dropped his visiting card on Portuguese East Africa in earnest, the situation at the end of the year was such that ‘the Germans could enter the [Portuguese] Nyassa territories any time they wished’;* and, with the Kaiser publishing his peace terms in Europe, rumours began to circulate that von Lettow-Vorbeck would soon be ‘making a dash for Portuguese East Africa, whence [he] may trust to luck to get away by boat’.26

  Smuts evinced no concern at the Portuguese failure to seal the southern border of German East Africa. By the autumn of 1916 he had completely lost patience with his ally to the south after repeatedly being accused of perfidy by General Gil, the latter casting around for any excuse for his total non-performance on the battlefield. At the end of October Gil had even refused to receive Smuts’s Political Officer, Major Hayes Sadler, on the basis that Lisbon was yet to confirm acceptance of his appointment (a hesitancy undoubtedly born of Gil’s – and Lisbon’s – ‘anxiety to conceal [Gil’s] incompetency, inefficiency, and mal-organization’).27 Gil’s propensity, one he shared with the Belgians, to squabble about who would administer any territory captured in German East Africa was also regarded by Smuts as absurdly tiresome.