One
soldier told me that he had actually paid three shillings for a single
cigarette.
We loaded up with 120 fresh cases and steamed off for Capetown. The
armoured train was moving fitfully about as we left, but the poor
thing's energies were rather cramped as the line disappeared about 300
yards north of the station.
Just before we crossed the river we saw the two war-balloons floating
above the camp, and our cook informed us with a great show of expert
knowledge that these balloons were absolutely proof against bullets or
even shells, "for," said he, "if anything hits them it rebounds from
them like my fist does from this 'ere pillow". A rather similar story
was told me by a wounded Highlander. He declared that a pal of his had
been struck in the stomach by a shell at the Modder River fight. "Oh,"
said I, "there wasn't much of your poor friend left, I suppose?" "He
wasn't much hurt," was the reply, "though he did spit blood for a few
hours." "Great Scot! what became of the shell?" "Oh," said my informant,
"I didn't notice, but it must have bounced off Bill's stomach." The
soldier quite believed that this marvellous incident had occurred. What
had happened was probably this: a shell had passed so close to the man
that the concussion of the air had "taken his wind" and ruptured some
small blood-vessels. I remember at the capture of Malaxa in Crete that
three insurgents were hurled to the ground by the air pressure of a
Turkish shell which passed within a yard or two of their heads.
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