On the 12th of October the Bodyguard for the German South-West Campaign assembled for field practices, etc., at Pretoria.  On the 20th we heard that we should be leaving at an hour’s notice, presumably for the South-West.  The following day wild and disquieting rumours began to circulate from early morning.  Maritz had gone into rebellion.  Motor-cars sped all forenoon between General Botha’s house close to us and the Union Defence Headquarters.  Our camp was full of alarms.  The police of Pretoria became suddenly twice as many about the streets.  Towards evening it was positively stated that plots were afoot aiming at nothing less than the life of General Botha; and the Main Guard, which had been mounted at the General’s house from the day of the Bodyguard’s formation, was doubled.  Not a soul was allowed within or around the modest grounds of the house without challenge at the point of the bayonet and presentment of the countersign.  It will be long before memory loses the picture of those evenings, when through the lighted windows of the left wing of the house the Main Guard first and second reliefs got a view of a familiar ample figure in anxious consultations at a table upon which the electric light cast a mellow glow.

The next day, the 22nd of October, rumour gave way to fact.  Rebellion had definitely broken out in the Transvaal and the Free State; Beyers, the ex-Commandant General, Kemp and others were leading in the Transvaal; the names of De Wet and Wessel Wessels were coupled with the Free State.  For the second time within a year unhappy South Africa heard rumours of imminent Martial Law proclamations.

Monday morning, the 26th, arrived and found us still waiting; then the Bodyguard got twenty minutes’ notice and entrained, horses, kits and everything for Rustenburg.  We arrived there at five o’clock the following morning, and started at once in pursuit of rebel commandos which were led by Kemp and Beyers.  Before starting, General Botha over a cup of coffee had an anxious consultation with his loyal commandants who had arrived to meet him.  Throughout the day we trekked, with one brief halt only, and “outspanned” that night near Oliphant’s Nek.  During the day the loyal commandos located the rebels without much difficulty; they were routed in all directions, and some eighty were captured.  At two o’clock in the morning we continued the trek, stopped in the forenoon on the railway line at Derby (close to Drakfontein, the scene of the British disaster to Benson’s Horse during the South African War), and pushing on in the evening to Koster, learnt from incoming scouts that Kemp had escaped capture by minutes only.  The direction of his flight was questionable at the time.

Returning to Pretoria, we remained there for a few days.  The whole town was in a state of remarkable tension.  The police were armed.  Armed volunteers were called for.  Loyalists were training after working hours in batches on various open spaces.  It was freely whispered that the German South-West Campaign would be given up, so formidable was the threatened opposition to it....  I am writing this much less than a year later:  and Windhuk has fallen, the Germans have surrendered their territory, and thousands of burghers and volunteers are returning to their homes.