The soldiers whom you will find within these pages went to fight for others and they displayed a kind of silent heroism which wins no medals. From the pens of these ordinary Australians comes a plain and honest view of the war as they saw and experienced it; often describing an endless horror of heat, flies, dust, polluted drinking water and food shortages. Each day they faced the danger of a bullet in their backs from hidden snipers; and if they were lucky enough to escape the bullets, enteric fever attacked them. Although I was born exactly thirty years after the last shot in this South African War was fired, my parents told me about Mafeking night when people shouted themselves hoarse, singing "Soldiers of the Queen". Both my father and grandfather served in the Plymouth Division of the Royal Marine Light Infantry, and during their long careers they trained naval gun crews. Grandfather was in the Boer War, and father in World War 1 - on sea and land. Our Donald men arose to do battle for the Empire, but some were doomed never to return to these sunny shores. They were fated to take their last rest beneath the dusty veldt upon which they had marched countless miles, and fought, and died. IT IS OUR DUTY TO REMEMBER THEM.