[The Great Boer War by Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link book
The Great Boer War

CHAPTER 19
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Six small guns were also secured.

The same afternoon saw the long column of the prisoners on its way to Modder River, there to be entrained for Cape Town, the most singular lot of people to be seen at that moment upon earth--ragged, patched, grotesque, some with goloshes, some with umbrellas, coffee-pots, and Bibles, their favourite baggage.

So they passed out of their ten days of glorious history.
A visit to the laager showed that the horrible smells which had been carried across to the British lines, and the swollen carcasses which had swirled down the muddy river were true portents of its condition.
Strong-nerved men came back white and sick from a contemplation of the place in which women and children had for ten days been living.

From end to end it was a festering mass of corruption, overshadowed by incredible swarms of flies.

Yet the engineer who could face evil sights and nauseous smells was repaid by an inspection of the deep narrow trenches in which a rifleman could crouch with the minimum danger from shells, and the caves in which the non-combatants remained in absolute safety.
Of their dead we have no accurate knowledge, but two hundred wounded in a donga represented their losses, not only during a bombardment of ten days, but also in that Paardeberg engagement which had cost us eleven hundred casualties.


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