As time flies and humanity is about to enter the twentieth century, at the turn of the century, Ishtria and Dalmatia, Archduke and Tyrolean Governor, who has become deputy commander and ship-building director of the Imperial Navy, seem to have become frivolous and rash.

First, he openly supported the Spaniards during the Spanish-American War, and secondly, he always sided with the Devaslanders in the war between the British and the Boers, and constantly condemned the banditry of the British. Although the personal statements of an archduke did not represent the position of the Empire, they nevertheless caused protests from the British.

The Grand Duke's chamberlain, Lieutenant Colonel Miller, had never felt that way, and Helton had said these words with great consideration, and of course, all for the sake of profit. To suppress the uprising of the Cubans, the Spaniards ordered two armored cruisers and a part of the weapons from the Isterian shipyards. The Boers had been exchanging gold and diamonds for weapons and ammunition with Israya before the war, and until now, Israia's arms smuggling ships still roam the coasts of Southeast Africa.

This made the Boer War even more difficult for the British.

A qiē is all for profit.

In Europe, a huge movement of support and solidarity with the Boers has long been launched. Among them, the Dutch and Belgians are the most active in their national feelings for their Dutch compatriots in southern Africa, forming numerous non-governmental solidarity groups and actively soliciting donations. Despite the Kaiser's deal with Britain, the German civil support campaign for the Transvaal has also risen one after another, with more than a million people signing signatures in solidarity with the Transvaal.

And, of course, there is a massive fundraiser.

Most of these donations went back into the pockets of Israia, where they were used to buy weapons. In addition, there were about 10,000 volunteers from all over the world who came into Dewaziland to help the Boers in their wars, including more than 1,000 Americans of Dutch descent.

Now Colonel Boloyevich had more than two thousand men in his hands, and they set off with the weapons that the Boers had bought with gold and diamonds: 20,000 rifles, 200 heavy machine guns and 120 artillery pieces, including 30 large-caliber guns. It was very difficult for a group of this size to cross Rhodesia quietly, so they simply waved the banner of the "Dewaziland Volunteer Brigade", and if the British dared to stop them, they would be eliminated outright.

The Colonel had to make his way to Dewasland along the border between Nyasaland and the Portuguese East Africa before the rainy season, and the journey was quite difficult, although 3,672 pack horses and more than 1,800 indigenous porters recruited in German East Africa were nearly overwhelmed by the hot climate and jungle march.

There were almost no roads, and the enthusiasm of the volunteers had been exhausted by the long march and exhaustion, and if he had been able to desert, Bolojevic estimated that he would soon have not many of his men left. But now, I didn't dare to do that. Bolojevich and less than fifty officers from Austria-Hungary led such a peasant contingent that looked more like an uprising all the way to the southwest.

And, of course, a large batch of weapons and ammunition ordered by the Boers.

They spent most of their time travelling through the territory of Portuguese East Africa, which would have avoided a lot of trouble, and whether they would cause any trouble to the Portuguese colonists was not on their radar. Bolojevic was going to cross the border with Portuguese East Africa near Vareca to Delva and then, after a period of adjustment, to Pretoria.

After more than 20 days of arduous trekking, they have now finally arrived in Vareca, a small town on the border with the Evidan-Côtes de Portugal in East Africa. Bolojevic rode his horse and turned his head to look behind him. He saw a barely large procession: volunteers who looked a little languishing in the scorching sun walked slowly on the shrub-covered grasslands, each two soldiers taking turns using one horse, and behind them were the improvised Kalubaru natives, nearly two thousand men, driving pack horses or mules laden with goods, making loud noises as they went, or singing songs he did not understand.

They were indeed harder than his white soldiers, though sometimes lazy.

The black porters seemed to be happy and entertaining themselves, but Bolojevich felt that something was wrong with the trip, and that his reputation would be ruined here.

The volunteers seem to have lost the desire to fight.

The "troops" began to rest and cook in a jungle area, and Bolojevic was constantly thinking about how to restore the morale of his men, and to his dismay, he still did not think of a good way to do it until he had finished eating. He had no choice but to turn his head and say in German to several black guides: "Forward! Keep moving! ”

The natives did not know what was answered, and perhaps they understood what he meant, for they were already beckoning the porters to lead the mules and horses and begin their journey, and his "soldiers" staggered into the long journey.

"Hell, how are those damn Portuguese following us." Lieutenant Colonel Mayer gazed angrily at a small group of Portuguese cavalry not far behind him, who had been following the group since they left Vareca, no doubt on a surveillance mission.

This made him feel very uncomfortable, although he fully understood the mood of the Portuguese.

"Maybe we should get rid of them!" Bolojevic probably felt the same way, so he shouted: "Walter! ”

"What do you command, sir!" The commander of the third company under him soon stood in front of him.

"Take your team and ask them what's going on?" Bolojevic said, pointing to the Portuguese cavalry squad at the back of the line.

"Yes, sir!" Walter turned his horse's head and said, "The third company comes with me!" He shouted to his men.

A detachment of cavalry followed him, rushing in the direction of the Portuguese in a chaotic manner, and Bolojevic shook his head.

Soon a Portuguese who seemed to be an officer was brought before Bolojevic, "We have no ill will!" He shouted, as if he didn't think something was right, and again in French, and finally in German.

Boloyevich admired this guy's language talent, if he should be a good officer in the imperial army, "Why are you following us?" He asked.

"Sir, this is the territory of East Africa, and we are the border troops here......"

"Call me sir!" Bolojevic said that the other party seemed to be only a lieutenant, so that he had the upper hand.

"Yes, sir, we're on patrol." The Portuguese lieutenant said.

"Oh, maybe we're on the wrong track, Lieutenant." Bolojevic said, "Isn't this Rhodesia? ”

"Rhodesia over there." The lieutenant gestured to a hillside in the distance.

"Oh, I'm sorry we have no intention of encroaching on your territory." "But don't follow us any more, for it's easy to get misunderstood, Lieutenant." He threatened.

"Yes, sir, let's leave!" The Portuguese lieutenant was very sensible, and if he was killed in such a desolate place, who would know who did it.

As a result, Bolojevic's face became good-looking, and he liked to deal with smart people.

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