The disaster through the eyes of a child
Annual commemoration services for the sinking of the SS Mendi were held in Queenstown, my hometown. In 1946 I was a Standard 6 (Grade 8) scholar at the Native Higher Primary School.
At 15 years of age an announcement made at morning assembly in our school to me was just like any other. But the principal, Mr Rhathazayo Nomgqokwana (a son of Grahamstown, born in B Street) looked sad, kept blinking and wiping his eyes when he made this one and I wondered why, because he used to be such an unrelenting disciplinarian.
I had never seen him smile - as in twinkling, kind eyes, and happily lit-up face. He did a bit of a smile/sneer when he wanted you to QUTHA (a hard smack on the finger tips; he would growl “Phephisa nje ndiyakuku phinda-phinda - If I miss the first one I will triple your lashes). This was just by the way! The ceremony was held at the township hall; the CM Mallet. The guest speaker was Rev T Soga, who was the Chairman of the School Board. Ours was among the schools that attended. I sat next to Sheila Nobaza, a brilliant scholar who had “class-skipped” (promoted from Std. 5 to Std. 6) within a period of six months. I had ob- tained first position in Std. 6 in the District of Queenstown.
We were placed in a double desk; front row of the rest of the school.
We knew this was just a showing-off stunt by our ‘modest’ principal.
At the end of the ceremony, guests of the Education Department, including Dr Stander who was Chief Inspector of schools, hugged Sheila and I. Believe it or not, he tucked a pound note into my hand, smiled and patted my shoulder. What was this? Reverend Soga raised his right arm. I heard his highpitched voice wail:
“Be quiet my countrymen, for now what is taking place is what you came here to do. We are all going to die, and that is what we came for. Brothers we are drilling the death drill. I, a Zulu here and now say that you are all my brothers – Xhosas, Swazis, Pondos, Basotho, and all others, let us die like warriors.
“We are the sons of Africa. Raise your war cries my brothers, for though they made us leave our assegias back in the kraals, our voices are left with our bodies.”
Reverend Soga was quoting the words of Reverend Isaac Wauchope Dyoba, who declared words of encouragement to the dying men who also sang and stamped the death dance together as the Mendi sank, taking with her many others who leaped into the icy water (607 black troops, along with nine of their countrymen and 33 crew members). Of note is that, regardless of clan or tribe, these men faced death together as South Africans.
Black people of South Africa have a proud and illustrious heritage which identifies with the whole South African society. Blacks have equally played a very important role in the defence of this country, dating back to the First World War.
There used to be a picture of the men who had died in the Mendi disaster in the Mallet Hall in Queenstown. The hall was an extension of our Higher Primary School classrooms and my eyes always landed on the fading picture on the stage.
I never anticipated I would be writing about this most amazing incident in South Afri- can military history.
The story of the sinking of the Mendi
On January 16 1917, the Mendi troopship sailed from Cape Town en route to La Havre in France, carrying 805 black privates of the South African Native Labour Corps, five white officers and 17 non-commissioned officers, as well as 33 crew members.
On the morning of 21 February 1917 the SS Darro (100 0000 tons) travelling at full speed and emitting no warning signals, rammed the SS Mendi (4 230 tons), which sank in 20 minutes.
No steps were taken by the SS Darro to lower boats or rescue the survivors. She stood off and floated nearby while lifeboats from Mendi’s escorting destroyer, HMS Brisk, rowed among the survivors, trying to rescue them.
Black Africans lost prominent men such as Pondoland Chief Henry Bokleni, Dokoda Rich-
ard Ndamase, Mxongwa Bangani, Mongameli and Reverend Isaac Wauchope Dyoba.
On receiving the news (on 9 March 1917) of the disaster, all the members of the South African House of Assembly, under the then Prime Minister Louis Botha and a celebrated Boer rose in their seats as a token of respect to their fellow South Africans who had gone down with SS Mendi.
The survivors went to continue their military service
in France.
The courage displayed by these men has remained a legend in South African military history.
Stump’s decision not to help Mendi’s survivors has been a source of controversy. One source states that it was because of the risk of attack by the enemy submarines. Some historians have suggested that racial prejudice influenced Stump’s decision; others say he merely lost his nerve.