Until I embarked on this enterprise I knew very little about the Boer War

1914
1933
By the time my sister was born, South Africa - like Canada, India and Australia - was a dominion of the British Empire. Our home language was English, we could speak Afrikaans, and whereas my sister and my father could communicate in Latin (which I envied them) I seem to think that my first language was actually Sesuto (SeSotho); particularly as I loved my Basotho nanny more than anyone else on earth, and, because my father was involved in public life, I saw more of Lizzie than I did of my parents. I also recall being the only white child in a black, farm school at one stage.

Until my mother, my sister, and I moved away from our idyllic little Free State town after my father’s death, my life had been as perfect as any child would wish; but, like many openhearted and generous men, he had — while being incapable of turning away anyone who needed help (including a financially strapped church in another town)— failed to make provision for his own his family. So it happened that, soon after arriving in the ‘Big’and more judgmental city of Bloemfontein, where my sister had found work, my blissful existence was seriously marred. It was there that one of my new schoolfellows turned her back on me with a scornful, “Get away from me, you dirty Dutchman!”

How I hated having a Dutch name, which might (horror of horrors!) have labelled me a "Boer" - especially as my father consorted with people like the Duke of Connaught, I had an aunt who had been presented at court, and, as a member of a Brownie pack, I had once proudly seen my father welcome Lord and Lady Clarendon on the steps of our Town Hall. Flags hung at half-mast and all places of business were closed on the day of my father's death.

How, I would wonder, could he possibly have run away, at the age of sixteen, from his prestigious English private school in Bloemfontein and contrived to find himself a horse in order to fight against the British, when we had a large portrait of him in the dining room, standing, shoulders squared, in his uniform as a major in the South African Forces during the Great War - on the side of the British? Truly one would have to understand the history of South Africa very well indeed, in order to be able to appreciate with what forgiving hearts its people had been blessed.

The Union of South Africa, another war and a rebellion.
On 31 May 1910, the two former Boer republics of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State, and the British colonies of Natal and the Cape, joined together to become the Union of South Africa under the British flag, but only four years later the brave new country faced a new crisis when Britain called upon its dominions to help in a fight against a new enemy in Europe - Germany. The Afrikaners in the newly-formed Union of South Africa were put in the spot, as they were reluctant to fight on the side of the British - their erstwhile foes - and the country was divided again when a rebellion was instigated. Finally, after that had been suppressed, South African entered the war on the British side, and the government having agreed to attack the German colony of South West Africa, that is where both my father and the man who became my father-law, saw service. Surprisingly, it was in a Canadian Military Journal published in 1985, that I recently found the most glowing account of South Africa’s illustrius record and contribution to the victories that brought that war to an end.

When peace was declared, Jan Christiaan Smuts of South Africa was among the architects of the ‘League Of Nations’, an association of countries established in 1919 by the Treaty of Versailles to promote international cooperation and achieve international peace and security! When it was replaced by the United Nations in 1945, it was Smuts who drafted the Covenant of the United Nations, which is considered to have been his major achievement; but it should also not be forgotten that as a Field Marshal of the Allied Forces during WW2, he enjoyed the respect and friendship of both General Eisenhower and the King of England.
Until the name was changed recently, the main airport in South Africa bore his name.

My father
For most of my life, and long after his own was over — for as long as there were people alive to attest to this amazing, gifted person, his integrity, character and life — to hear people unfailingly wax eloquent regarding his virtues, the moment his name was mentioned, has been a privilege enjoyed by few children. I was only six when he died, and now I, too, am old, but I retain the most vivid memories of him. Although, in my novel, ‘Tarnished Idols’ the romantic story itself is not true, I used him and his relationship with my sister and me, in my book. He really did speak Latin, and he really did teach himself to write shorthand, which is why, in his obituary, the Ficksburg News quoted one speaker as reflecting:

“As a bilingualist he was outstanding, and could not only write as well as speak most fluently in either medium, but was outstandingly able in his quick interpretation of speeches — a qualification that few could claim — with equal facility. (Obviously the shorthand was an asset!) “As a companion he was entertaining, and whatever the conditions, always cheerful and optimistic. As a host he was hospitality itself.

“As the deceased had seen active service and retired with the rank of Major on the reserve list, a firing party of Ficksburg School Cadets under command of Captain Pienaar was formed outside the church and presented arms to the coffin, which was still draped with the Union Flag. And the funeral cortège was preceded by the party at slow march with reversed arms. The interment arrangements were in the hands of the Mayor, Mr. A.A. Keyter jnr. and the bearers were the Ficksburg Town Councillors, and others: Messrs. N.J. Leonard, S.D.Barnett, I.Danneman, P.R van Niekerk, G. Leipoldt, Caved. Heever, J.J. le Roux, assistant Town Clerk, J.H. van Heerden, attorney of Theunissen, who had been the late Mr. van Zyl’s employer in earlier days. The chief mourners were the widow and her elder daughter, Miss Claudia van Zyl, accompanied by several of their closest friends.

“On arriving at the cemetery the firing party, with bowed heads, formed an avenue for the procession to pass through, and, after the final obsequies, ranged on either side of the grave and fired three volleys over the mortal remains, in the intervals of which the bugles sounded the retreat. (Sunset.) After the firing of the last volley they again presented arms and the bugles sounded the Last Post. ... At the end, Mr. Van Heerden thanked the public for their attendance and the many expressions of sympathy to the family.

“All sections of the community, civic, legal, commercial, and agricultural, of town and country were present, and all places of business in town, including the banks, were closed during the funeral, and as a mark of respect and recognition of the deceased’s military service, Colonel P. Krog and Lieutenant JEFF. Becker were in uniform. The sympathy of the Girl Guides and Brownies was demonstrated to Miss Claudia van Zyl, a Guide, and little Miss Marie van Zyl, a Brownie, by the uniformed presence of their officers, Miss Tenant, Captain, Mrs. Snelling, second Captain, and Miss Saayman, acting Brown Owl.
. . . .

Whatever could have motivated my father and his friend, Deneys Reitz to run away, at the age of sixteen, from their prestigious English private school in Bloemfontein and contrive to find themselves horses in order to fight against the British? - NOW I KNOW!