deep sorrow--tears not such as "angels weep," but such as men can weep
who love one another, and had fought in one common cause.

I could not speak to the men as I would, for I was too weak. Still I
wished them God-speed for the future, and exhorted them to be very
courageous and to do their duty faithfully, as befits men, to the last.
I told them my work was done. I had given my blood, and might be called
upon to give my life for my country. If so, I hope to be prepared to
bring that offering too. More I could not do. My secretary then knelt
and commended me in prayer to the care and protection of our gracious
God and Father.... Then we parted.

My war career had ended. No more fighting, no more retreating, no more
roaming over the veldt, by day and night, exposed to blasting summer
winds or chilling winter frosts. For two years and two months I had seen
active service. During that time I had tried to acquit myself
conscientiously of my duties as a man. No sacrifice was too great, and
no obstacle appeared insuperable for the cause in which I was engaged.
Looking back upon the past I observe how often I have fallen short and
failed--failed as a burgher and as a leader. And though I do not wish
for another war, I believe I should try to do better were I to live
through it again.

Two of my adjutants--Pieter Hugo and Landman--had remained with me. One
of them instantly went to the nearest railway station, about three miles
off, to call for an ambulance. Till 1 A.M. I lay bleeding in the veldt.
Then the British ambulance arrived. When the doctor saw me he had very
little hope that I would recover. As I was too weak to be removed by
waggon, I was put on a stretcher and carried to a small field hospital,
not far from the spot where I was wounded.