A Struggle For Survival Poem by Gert Strydom

The day had only begun
when the coach
of governor Van der Stel drives in

and he is searching for copper
or silver to mine
but sends out his dragoons
to disappear behind the hillocks

where every one of them with a blunderbuss
are on the hunt in the thickets.

At Blood river no matchlock gun
or tiny cannon called Griet
could on their own
stop the thousands of attacking Zulus

and right there the pioneers
made a covenant with God
while they did believe in His power,
in His words and commandments

and when the British got the gold fever
the Boer republics
could not avoid going to war

and generals De Wet and De La Rey
taught those foreigners a lesson
while the British send even children and women
to the horrors and death of concentration camps.

Much later I was called up to the military,
to go on patrol,
to protect my country’s borders
against attacking terrorists.

The enemy fired with AK-47 rifles
and RPG-7 rockets at me
while the bush, the border and the local population
gave shelter to them

and when the Cubans came with a major force of armour
to destroy us
I saw a shot-out Ratel armoured car
but we did stop the enemy mishmash

and some of the heroes that were honoured there,
entered into a landmine field to bring back
a battle tank and a wounded comrade
while the enemy was firing upon them with battle tanks.


[Reference: Skietgoed (Amminition) by Ernst van Heerden.

“Onder wasgoeddraad se onderhempies deur
klouter klein poenskop Krisjan van De Wet
langs koue waters van die balie,
gooi kole in die erdvarkgat en skiet
pif-paf op kronkels van die rooikopslang.

By geroeste konkas, Wagter met sy blaffies,
skreeu die makkers: “Honoris Crux is joune!
Jy’s veilig deur met ‘n granaat in die vuis –
nou hol vir die vale in Mulilo se bos,
omseil met jou tekkies die landmyn se brul! ””

My English translation:

(“Through washing lines and undershirts
small bold Krisjan van De Wet climbs
next to cold water out of a drum
and he throws coals into the hole of the anteater and fires pif-paf
on the coils of the red headed snake.

At rusting drums the dog Wagter is barking
and his comrades shout: “A Honoris Crux is yours!
You are safely through with a hand grenade in your fist-
now just to run to the bush of the pale Mulilo,
sneak with your running shoes around the roar of the landmine! ”) ]

Note that a Honoris Crux is a medal of valour.]