Less than sixty kilometers from Pretoria ran a river the Boers called the Moriteler River. The East African Army's 111th, 123rd, and 514th Divisions camped on its northern bank to rest.
After more than ten consecutive days of high-intensity marching, the East African troops were generally exhausted. Even Ernst, who rode on horseback, was finding it hard to endure. On top of that, they had fought a small Boer force at Petersburg earlier, so the East African Army needed to rest and regroup while waiting for the units transporting provisions and fodder.
The battle at Petersburg had not even counted as an appetizer for the East African Army. The Boer forces numbered fewer than five hundred altogether, and their weapons lagged behind those of the East African Army. A single East African cavalry battalion had charged and scattered them.
At night, a gentle breeze drifted in, bringing threads of coolness. Waves of singing rose from the camp along the Moriteler River:
"By the little river of a Rhine village,
Above fields of golden wheat,
Young eagles soared free.
Who would pack this luggage for me,
Who would dress me in this uniform,
Never forgetting the gentle girl of my homeland.
The Rhine is my beautiful homeland,
Who could forget that beloved home..."
Keeping time to the sound of the zither, a traditional Austrian instrument, the East African soldiers sat around bonfires and sang in chorus. In such a rare moment of leisure, smiles filled every face. They had organized this evening gathering themselves to relieve the boredom.
Hearing the East African soldiers sing, Ernst's brow relaxed unconsciously and the corners of his mouth lifted. It had truly been a long time since he had heard such simple, unadorned songs.
Aside from Hechingen, Ernst had rarely visited rural areas in Germany.