Every one was astir early the following morning, and after an early

breakfast the camp was packed up. Then the real fun of the day

commenced; this was the loading of the mules. Although I have not yet

described this performance in detail it might interest those who did

not actually participate in the trek. Loads were arranged and specially

lashed with strong ropes. The great art was to prepare loads in pairs,

each of which was of equal weight. Of course, with such articles as

blankets, Lewis gun panniers, ammunition boxes, where an equal number

solved the difficulty it was an easy matter; but when it came to the

question of cooks’ gear, pioneer tools, officers’ valises, and so on,

it developed into a matter of either exceeding great skill or pure

luck. Having thus made up two loads of equal weight and examined the

mule’s girth, the muleteer would stand at the animal’s head and say

nice things to it with a view of taking its attention from the loads.

Two men would then stand on either flank of the beast and lift the

loads, with the intention of hooking them on to the saddle by the

rings attached to the lashing ropes. The loading on both sides had to

be performed simultaneously, or otherwise the weight on one side only

simply twisted the saddle under the mule, annoying the animal to such

an extent that it would immediately kick out and break loose, dashing

about with the load under its stomach. Such escapades on the part of

the mules were all too frequent; the mules hated the loads, and to add

to the difficulties of the performance commenced to dance a “tango” on

the feet of the unfortunate fatigue men trying to persuade it to carry

a couple of heavy side loads. Towards the end of this trek, however,

the men became aware of this side-stepping by the mules, and eventually

experts in each Company developed, and the balancing of the loads, the

synchronisation of the hooking-on process, became matters of skill as

the result of sad experience.

From Tuzla the line of march was to Livanovan, and as a contrast to

the very cold wind of the previous day the sun poured down, and the

journey of twelve miles was over the same badly-made roads, while steep

gradients were also encountered. On the 12th of March the Brigade

proceeded to Gida, a further distance of twelve miles. On arrival a

flat piece of ground was found for the camp. On the march each man

carried a few pieces of stick or wood from ration boxes, and at the end

of the day’s march a supply of wood for fires was immediately ready on

arrival in camp. During this trek great credit was due to the cooks,

both in the companies and the officers’ messes, for the splendid way in

which they immediately set to and prepared meals for their expectant

clients at the end of the day’s march. I know that at Gida, Evison (“D”

Company’s mess cook) and his batman pals had so trained themselves that

on the arrival of their Company Officers from the men’s lines, after

seeing the mules unloaded and the men settled down, a splendid meal of

fried eggs and bacon, biscuits and butter, tea, and Welsh rarebit was

spread on the mess table-cloth. (“D” Company always boasted of this

cloth, regardless of its doubtful snowy whiteness at times.)

The next day, the 13th of March, was very trying owing to the great

heat and the distance covered, just over 20 miles. A midday halt was

made on that part of the road where the transport section had had

such a disastrous time on their journey from Salonica in December,

and the mule drivers regaled every one with the horrible details of

their experiences. The roads were being improved near the town of

Topscin by parties of Bulgar prisoners under French guards. As the

column approached Topscin village the sounds of music greeted it. The

town was in the hands of the French, and their band had turned out to

welcome us. The “Marseillaise” and “God Save the King” were rendered

alternately while the whole Brigade marched by.

Just after leaving Topscin we crossed the Vardar River, and a couple of

miles beyond, the new camping ground was reached; but the rain which

had then set in made the arrival miserable. It was then 6.0 p.m. and

every one was dead-beat, but an issue of rum livened us up a little.

The following morning bivouacs were struck and the march resumed as

far as Amantovo, a distance of 14 miles, and it was during this march

that the first man of the Battalion fell out, and only the excessive

heat caused him to faint, showing how splendidly he had stuck to it.

The camp at Amantovo was on soft, grassy ground, and the pegs of our

bivouacs were driven in with ease, a change after the stony nature of

our previous camping grounds. The last part of the day’s march had been

over grassy downs, and the beautiful weather made it enjoyable. To add

to the happiness, however, there was a surprise in store; a ration of

oranges was issued that night. The next day’s march was to be performed

in two parts. The start was made about 8.0 a.m., and the route lay

through pleasant valleys and over undulating grassland. A few miles

from Amantovo the Battalion marched past the Commander-in-Chief of our

forces in Salonica, General Sir G. F. Milne, K.C.B., and his staff. The

General was greatly impressed with the fitness of the Battalion.

About midday a halt was called and cooking commenced. Plenty of

water, duly chlorinated, of course, was drawn from the local streams.

In the afternoon small card parties were made up in the Battalion,

others slept, while others read novels; each man in some sections

carried a small sevenpenny novel, and by exchanging there was plenty

to read. Just ahead of the Battalion was a tumulus, and from this

point it was said that the “line” could be seen, but of course it

was forbidden ground. The progress of the Battalion having been thus

barred, we settled down to a very pleasant, restful afternoon in the

warm sunshine, little dreaming of the eccentricities of the Macedonian

springtime.

At twilight the order was given to move off, and with darkness came

rain, and such cold rain, too! The wind sprang up and the first few

miles were spoilt by “concertina work” by the column, a most dreaded

thing for infantrymen with a heavy kit. However, after the first halt

the movement of the column settled down and became more tolerable;

but accidents to the mules soon disorganised the column again and

connection in the dark became difficult. The Battalion floundered

on through mud and slush over what must have been ploughed land, I

think. Mules now began to fall out with unfailing regularity and men

were constantly detailed from the ranks to reload them, and a very

straggling column resulted. No one seemed to be certain of the way over

this strange country in the pitch darkness. No one appeared to have a

watch, either, for no halts were called; certainly the ground was too

thick in wet mud for halting purposes, but after three hours marching

over such ground in pouring rain all infantrymen felt the strain.

Onwards the Battalion struggled, mile after mile, through this awful

morass of mud and the pelting rain. Every one longed for a halt, but

this was not to be; not until the Battalion arrived on the outskirts

of Karasuli did that precious whistle break the silence. Then every

one just sat down in the middle of the road. The men had marched for

six hours without a halt or even taking off their packs. Remarkable to

relate, the number of men who fell out was practically nil; there were

no estaminets here, and to fall out would mean a lonely night in the

desolate wilds of northern Greece; and this was an unpleasant prospect.

At Karasuli a fairly long halt was made and spirits revived, but being

under enemy observation no smoking was allowed; this was the last

straw, and the Hun and his Allies had curses heaped upon their heads

that night, if ever. Rumour that the final halt was only a few hundred

yards ahead helped to improve matters, but even this flicker of hope

was damped by the heavy rain that constantly poured down. The whistle

sounded again, and off the Battalion moved, though no one knows the

route taken to this day. Brigade staff certainly did its utmost to sort

out the mixed column of men, mules and transport of all regiments.

The country here was broken by deep gullies or “nullahs” along which

the water rushed in torrents. For over an hour the Battalion staggered

along over the broken ground, one moment stumbling down a steep rugged

bank of a nullah, the next crawling on hands and knees up the slippery

bank opposite, and frequently wading nearly waist deep in water.

About 1.0 a.m. the Battalion halted. Rain had fallen for hours and

the ground was churned up into a quagmire, but a halt, even in these

surroundings, was welcome. Men threw off their packs and, in spite

of their weariness and exhaustion, it was to be admired that all the

mules, which had also struggled through this terrible journey, were

immediately unloaded. Kits, rifles and mule loads had been thrown on

the ground by the overwrought men, and some just lay down from sheer

fatigue; others stood in the bitter cold and awaited the dawn. Some of

the more energetic dared to put up their bivouacs, but soon gave up the

idea of sleeping owing to the terrific cold wind that blew. Those who

were able to move were issued with rum, but I am afraid that owing to

the difficulties of the situation and the fact that many men had fallen

into a delirious sleep it was unequally divided, and in the darkness

it was difficult to discern whether a staggering man was the outcome

of too much marching or too much rum. Towards dawn the downpour ceased

a little, but the shivering troops, mud from head to foot, still stood

in the withering clutches of the Vardar blast, and one man remarked,

looking at the surrounding swamp, “Guess I’m standing in the Blasted

Vardar, too!” Gradually daylight appeared, and what a scene--drenched

men, cold, miserable, hungry and tired. The sick parade was extremely

large that morning. Many had become so exhausted that they had laid

down in the wet mud during the night and the next morning were, of

course, physical wrecks; others had reached a state of delirium and

wandered about bereft of their senses, and mention has already been

made of the third group, the men who had “really” got the rum. The

balance of the Battalion simply felt done up. However, all those who

had not been sent to the field hospitals at Karasuli set to work and

dragged from beneath the mud, rifles, equipment, bivouac sheets and

remnants of the mules’ loads, and sorted them into dumps. The sun shone

and life appeared possible, even if not desirable, in this wilderness

of mud. About midday the Quartermaster’s Stores sent fatigue parties

to an A.S.C. depôt a mile or so away, and fresh meat and rations were

issued. Small fires were soon started and the old “gyppa” was on the

boil. Every one looked forward to a nice hot meal, when orders for an

immediate move were received. One can pass over this scene without

expressing the views of the troops; it can well be imagined how

pleasing it was to see the half-cooked “gyppa” poured away into the

mud, as the cooks’ gear had to be packed on the mules at once.

Soon afterwards the clank of the entrenching-tool handle against the

rifle butt and the rattle of the water bottle and other impedimenta

associated with troops on the march was heard. The Battalion moved off

with Platoons at intervals of 100 yards. The road from Karasuli was in

good condition and had dried up under the warmth of the sun and the

constant wind, but a mile or so from the camping ground to that main

road was covered with deep nullahs and ravines. As we passed over it

we wondered how the Battalion had ever marched over such ground the

previous night. Once on the main road a decent step was taken and the

troops felt the benefit of a good road, and made headway. However,

the wind renewed its violence of the previous evening and blew into

the face of the Battalion so that the benefit of the better road was

soon nullified by the Vardar Blast. Clothing was still saturated with

the rain of the night before, and the cold wind simply pierced us to

the bones. Snow fell and added to the misery of things and soon the

country-side was white; to say nothing of the Father Christmas-like

appearance of the troops. When darkness came things really became

difficult and the march developed into a hopeless plodding along,

fighting against a biting cold head wind the whole while. For the first

nine miles the route was along the main road, and the mules retained

their loads with comparative ease, and not like the previous day’s

march when they slipped and fell over on the treacherous muddy tracks.

So extreme was the cold that after each ten minutes halt it was with

difficulty that men rose from the ground; most of them were frozen

stiff. About 10.0 p.m. the head of the column was seen crossing the

rough ground on the left of the main road. Hopes were raised, and if

even a bivouac in the snow was an unpleasant prospect, the ending of

the march was some consolation. Visions of a new camp were becoming

plain, but when the Battalion followed this column across the rough

ground for over an hour hopes were shattered.

From the roadway onwards men of all regiments in the Brigade lined

the route; floundering over the rough ground after a stiff march had

proved too much for even some of the stalwarts who had braved the

night at Karasuli. Transport limbers and mules blocked the way, either

stuck in the small nullahs that crossed the route or else the animals

had become too exhausted to move. In fact, it was not an uncommon

sight to see dead mules on the ground, having succumbed to the extreme

cold, and when mules “gave up the ghost” it can be well judged how the

men suffered. No one had any fear of being lost this night should he

fall out; the route was well marked by deserted limbers, dead mules

and fallen loads. About midnight the journey ended and the Brigade

halted near the deserted farm buildings which were occupied by the

Headquarters of the Brigade in the line. When the signal to halt

was given every one just sat down exhausted, but the lesson of the

previous night had been learnt, and little sleep was attempted. Small

fires were lighted and mess tins were brought out and tea was made.

“Scroungeing” parties went round and “won” blankets, tarpaulins, etc.,

from wherever possible, regardless of the Battalion or Company to which

they belonged. Some officers, by dint of hard work, had even erected a

bell tent, having a limber pole for its support. Whose tent and whose

pole were never questioned. The night thus passed fairly quickly and

every one made the best of a bad job. The snow had ceased, and it was,

therefore, an improvement on the downpour twenty-four hours previously.

As soon as daylight came every one was astir with the exception of

the favoured few who had confiscated a pile of officers’ valises and

rigged up a temporary shanty. However, their rest was soon disturbed

and orders were given to “fall in.” The day was brighter and this

cheered us a little. The Battalion soon marched off and soon sites

were allotted to Companies in the deep nullahs or ravines about 500

yards from the deserted farm buildings. In the warmth of the sun, the

sheltered positions in the ravines soon made us forget the discomfort

of the night. The debris of the previous night was collected and every

one enjoyed a hot meal which the cooks soon prepared. The afternoon was

spent in rest and sleep.

However, war is war, and there is no rest for the wicked. The writer,

together with another officer and some N.C.O.’s from each Company, were

detailed to go up to the line for reconnaissance purposes that very

afternoon. But even the darkest cloud has its silver lining, and after

a trudge of four miles the party which had come over the skyline in

twos and threes were welcomed by the Headquarters of the London Irish

(2/18th London Regiment), and were soon detailed to Companies for the

night. It was the 17th of March, and the London Irishmen who had been

settled in the part of the line for some weeks celebrated their patron

Saint’s day in the proper style, and the requisite canteen stores and

drinks had been acquired. No one could have been more hospitable, and

the wretched advance party which had left Kolonova that afternoon felt

that the war was not so bad as it might have been. Perhaps it would not

be out of place to mention here that one of the toasts drunk in the

Company dug-out where the writer was so kindly entertained was “To our

1st Battalions, the 1st Civil Service Rifles and the 1st London Irish

Rifles.” These Battalions were serving in France with the 47th Division

and had curiously left England on St. Patrick’s Day in 1915. The 17th

of March is “The day” in the history of our 1st Battalion, but it has

its place in the history of the 2nd Battalion. It was the end of what

is popularly known as the “Karasuli Trek.”

During the past week the Battalion had marched from Katerina, near

Mount Olympus, to Kolonova, on the Doiran Front; a distance of about

100 miles had been covered in seven days. The march was over rough

country the whole way. Extremes of weather had been encountered during

these few days; from the hottest of Mediterranean suns at Livanovan

to the wettest of oriental rains at Karasuli, and to the bleakest

of blizzards and snowstorms that the Balkan Heights at Kolonova can

produce. The man who was able to stick to his guns throughout this

trek can well boast, and only the terrible experiences of the last two

nights of the journey deprived many of the same boast.

CHAPTER XXXI

ON THE DOIRAN-VARDAR FRONT--THE ADVANCE

A short description of the situation on the Doiran-Vardar sector of the

Salonica Front will no doubt assist the reader to better realise the

type of operations peculiar to this theatre of war. A few miles west

of Lake Doiran was a mountainous ridge running north and south, about

five or six miles long, known as “P” Ridge. This chain consisted of a

series of five distinct peaks, the southern one, “Pip 5,” being about

800 feet high, while the remaining four progressively increased in

altitude until “Pip 1” at the northern end reached the height of about

1,700 feet (or 535 metres); this was the famous “535” which dominated

the country for many miles around, in fact on a clear day the peak

could be distinctly seen from the hills at Dudular near Salonica, some

60 miles away. The Bulgar held practically all this ridge of the “Pips”

except at the lowest part at the south, where the British had gained a

footing. The Bulgar was strongly entrenched on all the slopes of the

ridge, and each peak was an almost impregnable fortress in itself.

From the northern end the enemy lines ran due west along a mountainous

chain some 1,000 to 1,200 feet high through the town of Devedzili,

thence south of Paljorca to Pobreg. Just east of Pobreg the line ran

due south for some six miles along another ridge of hills about 600 to

700 feet high which terminated at the “Nose,” a fortified stronghold on

the borders of Serbia and Greece. From the “Nose” the enemy trenches

were situated on the hills just north of Macukova, finally having the

right flank on the banks of the Vardar at a point some four miles from

the “Nose.”

The British line ran from the southern extremity of the “P” ridge in a

south-westerly direction to the village of Bekerli, from which point it

ran practically due west to the Vardar, where our lines were only about

1½ miles from the enemy trenches. The whole of the British line was on

the low hills just north of the Cidemli Dere, a valley through which a

small stream of about 20 feet in width bubbled along.

South of this stream the reserve British positions were situated on

the chain of the Kolonovan Heights (500 feet) which ran along north

of Ardzan, Smol and Karasuli. It will therefore be seen that only on

our flanks were we in close touch with the enemy; on the left flank

near the Vardar for about four miles east of the river banks as far

as Reselli opposite the “Nose” where the enemy line turned north,

and on the right flank at the foot of the “P” ridge at its southern

extremities south of the village of Krastali. Even at these points

the lines were at least a mile apart. The remainder of “No Man’s

Land” consisted of a plain through which the ravine of the Selemli

Dere formed a definite line between the opposing parties. From this

ravine the ground was fairly flat for about 500 yards on each bank,

but it soon developed into a land of hillocks some hundred feet above

the level of the Selemli Dere plain, forming the foot-hills up to the

higher ground held by the two armies. In this part of “No Man’s Land”

were dotted the deserted villages of Dautli, Selemli and Sejdelli. The

enemy had taken up a strong defensive line on the high ground which

overlooked the whole of the lesser hills on the southern side of the

Selemli plain, and his observation on our movements was therefore good.

Any movement by day on our part was restricted, and from the commanding

position of “P” ridge he could practically look into our trenches which

had been constructed on the forward slopes of the small hills north of

the Kolonovan Heights. In daytime these trenches were therefore only

held by a sentry group, while the remainder of the garrison retired to

the small bivouac camps which had been dug in on the reverse slopes.

[Illustration: _ROUGH SKETCH MAP SHOWING APPROXIMATELY THE SITUATION ON

THE ----“DOIRAN-VARDAR” FRONT----_ (_1917_)]

By reference to the sketch map at the commencement of this chapter it

will be seen that no further advance on our part was possible beyond

the Bekerli Village Line, for from “Pip I” the Bulgars could enfilade

any camps that were pushed forward. Not until the whole of the “Pip”

ridge was gained could any advance on the Vardar section be made.

The British Army had therefore to sit content on the line of low

hills, each of which was made into a strong point held by a garrison

at night and a sentry group by day. The whole front was strongly wired

and the ground or dip between these hills held by a Lewis gun post, or

sometimes a Vickers machine-gun section. The wire had been cunningly

arranged so that all these re-entrants formed “culs de sac” into which

heavy machine-gun fire could be poured by the defenders.

During daytime no one disputed “No Man’s Land,” but at night time

strong patrols were sent out by both sides to obtain the mastery, and

prevent raids or surprise attacks on the defensive lines that were

held. Across the centre of “No Man’s Land” was a line of large white

stone pillars at regular intervals, representing the frontier between

Greece and Serbia; an interesting fact, though, of course, having no

bearing on the actual operations in this part of the world.

The British transport lines and ration dumps were behind the

cover of the Kolonovan Heights which ran parallel with the main

Karasuli-Kilindir Road which made communication along the rear of

our positions comparatively easy. From the transport up to the line

the journey was done at night time, except in the case of individual

runners, or perhaps two or three men in a party, but so keen was the

observation of the Bulgar that even these small parties attracted the

unpleasant attention of a “pip-squeak” gun which had the tracks over

the ridge “taped” to a nicety.

On the 19th of March, 1917, the Battalion marched up to the line

from its bivouacs at Kolonova and took over from the 2/18th London

Regiment (London Irish). All reliefs were carried out by night and

under cover of darkness the Battalion left its sheltered camp, by

Platoons at intervals. Every one had been ordered to maintain silence

and no smoking was allowed. All the average man knew was the fact that

somewhere over the ridge at Kolonova was the line, how far or how near

he was never told, and the order for strict silence on the march led

him to believe that the enemy was fairly close to hand, although in

point of fact the Bulgar was comfortably settled in the dug-outs of his

mountain stronghold at least five miles ahead. Knowing this fact the

following incident on the march will be appreciated. A nervous private

recently joined approached his Platoon Commander with a whisper, “Don’t

you think that officer on horseback ought to cover his luminous wrist

watch?” True, Major Oliver was in charge of the Battalion canteen, and

probably had first choice of the luminous Ingersolls that occasionally

came our way, but even the most luminous are not guaranteed to dazzle

the eyes at a distance of five miles. However, such was the keenness of

this rifleman to save his platoon from a strafe by the enemy artillery.

For a whole month the Battalion held the line from Waggon Hill, just

east of Reselli village, to the village of Bekerli. On our left was

a battalion of the 180th Infantry Brigade, while our neighbour on

the right was the Queen’s Westminster Rifles of our own Brigade. The

Battalion front consisted of Waggon Hill, which overlooked the Selemli

Plain and the village of Sejdelli in front, while the ground on the

left flank was low and formed a branch of the Selemli Ravine, and made

a dangerous entrance to the rear of our positions just opposite the

“Nose.” “D” Company occupied this hill, with “B” Company in immediate

support in the valley of the Cidemli Dere. The right of the Battalion

front was on the high ground near the ruined village of Bekerli, and

formed the angle from which the British line ran north-east through

Bastion Hill, Bowls Barrow, Whaleback, Horse Shoe Hill to the foot of

“Pip 5” on the “P” ridge. “A” Company was responsible for the Bekerli

defences, with “C” Company in immediate reserve, while Battalion

Headquarters were farther back at Bekerli Ford, on the Cidemli Dere.

As previously stated, movement was restricted during the daytime,

which was spent in sleep, writing letters and card playing, leavened,

of course, by fatigues and working parties for the improvements of

dug-outs and similar work which could be undertaken by day under cover

of the hills. No movement was allowed beyond an occasional runner

to the support Companies or Battalion Headquarters. At night time,

however, work commenced. The trenches were strongly garrisoned, and

sentry groups were posted along the wire, while still farther out in

“No Man’s Land,” about 500 yards from the wire, standing patrols of

an N.C.O. and 20 men were posted in order to prevent the enemy from

approaching our lines in force.

The support companies furnished large carrying parties to bring

up rations, letters and the _Balkan News_, a newspaper specially

printed in Salonica for British troops; all of which arrived from the

Quartermaster’s stores at Kulonova, about one hour after dark. They

also provided working parties to improve the trenches, which for the

most part had been blasted from solid rock. Communication trenches were

also made up to the forward companies, care being taken to conceal

them in the numerous shallow dips in the ground as any sign of digging

was sure to be strafed the next day. All earth had to be removed, as

the smallest heap of soil above the level of the ground was looked

upon by the Bulgar as the commencement of a new gun emplacement and

consequently bombarded. There is no doubt that the Bulgar took every

advantage of his higher position, and his observers were very keen,

and this together with the wonderful accuracy of his guns made us very

careful to conceal all signs of digging.

The support companies also furnished an officer’s patrol each night

of about 24 men strong. These fighting patrols had orders to approach

the enemy’s wire on the other side of the plain. How different from

the patrols of three or four men on the Neuville St. Vaast front in

France, where movement was very restricted. On the Doiran front it

became a nocturnal route march. A few points were sent ahead and the

main body followed _en bloc_. Although instructions were issued to

reach the enemy’s wire it was rarely accomplished; Bulgar patrols were

always wandering about on the plain at night. In the area allotted

to our Battalion for patrol work were the two villages of Dautli and

Selemli, which were much nearer to the enemy’s advanced posts than our

own. To reach these villages and search them was about the limit of

our adventures. The Bulgars were far too strong at this point, for here

the Selemli Dere could be crossed by tracks which the enemy jealously

guarded. Fortunately, though shots were sometimes exchanged no serious

fighting occurred to the 2/15th London patrols. On the return journey

towards daylight it was considered part of the scheme to halt at the

village of Sejdelli, near our lines, and break down the woodwork in the

houses already damaged by shell fire and bring doorposts, window frames

and so on back into our lines for the cooks’ fire. It was most amusing

to hear the patrols heralding their safe return by loudly hammering on

the woodwork of Sejdelli. Never a Bulgar fell into the hands of our

patrols, but they always returned with plenty of wood.

Although in daytime it was not advisable to wander across “No Man’s

Land,” on one occasion our Intelligence Officer, Lieutenant Andrew,

and his batman, Private Joines, spent a day searching the village of

Dautli. They walked to the village during the night and hid themselves

at dawn in an empty house to watch the movements of the enemy near

the fords across the Selemli Dere near by. Great was their surprise,

however, when a party of eight Bulgars appeared from the other side of

the village carrying some rabbits and hares. Discretion was the better

part of valour and Andrew and his batman decided to keep quiet. After

a few exciting minutes and by quietly sneaking around the houses they

were able to evade the enemy shooting party, and spent the rest of the

day quietly enough locating and sketching the enemy forward posts. They

returned to our lines in the evening.

Life under these conditions was very pleasant and the Battalion

thoroughly enjoyed its stay in this part of the line. The only

interruption beyond the casual shelling of our trenches and camps

was the occasional visit of a flight of enemy aeroplanes which

crossed over and dropped small bombs near our bivouacs. Usually they

passed right over and made targets of the horse lines and dumps in

rear of the Kolonovan Heights, and only when they were driven off

by our anti-aircraft guns did they attempt to expend their efforts

on our small hillside camps. Aerial activity on this front was very

persistent, and practically every day our bombing planes sailed over

and bombed the railways and dumps behind the Bulgar lines.

Occasionally a fight in the air took place, but the commoner sight was

the repeated attacks of the enemy airmen on our observation balloon

at Kolonova. On one or two occasions it was brought down in flames,

but more often the attacker was driven off by our anti-aircraft guns,

and on one occasion a direct hit by an “Archie” shell brought down the

offending airman. The plane fell in flames near our battalion transport

lines, and curiously when the wreck reached the ground the machine gun

was still spitting out bullets and a few men of a neighbouring regiment

were wounded by them.

The enemy infantry troubled us very little, and only an occasional

cross fire between patrols made us aware of their presence, and

fortunately they made no endeavours to reach the Battalion front;

although at Bowls Barrow, a few hundred yards on our right, they made

a determined raid on the 1st of April on a British post and inflicted

casualties.

About the middle of April, however, our artillery became extremely

active, and on the 20th the “Nose” and “P” ridge were heavily

bombarded. This was the opening of an offensive on our part which

was undertaken with a view of capturing the whole of “P” ridge. The

bombardment was continued for three whole days with the intention of

cutting the fields of wire which protected the Bulgar positions and

to destroy his forward entrenchments. On the 23rd of April the volume

of artillery increased considerably and continued until the night of

the 24th, when the 2/20th Battalion of the London Regiment raided

the stronghold of the “Nose.” Under cover of this heavy bombardment

the Blackheath Battalion approached the enemy wire, and although

our artillery had damaged it considerably, it still formed a great

obstacle to the raiders. Heavy machine-gun fire was encountered, and

the front slopes of the “Nose” were heavily barraged by the enemy,

who also used strong search-lights from the crest of the “Nose” which

swept the forward part of the position. Only a few gallant fellows

ever reached the Bulgar trenches and the casualties were very heavy.

For several nights afterwards search parties were out bringing in

wounded. For the actual raid there was little direct success, but it

served its purpose and acted as feint attack which drew a great deal

of the enemy’s artillery fire, and thereby assisted the main attack

which commenced that same night on the “P” ridge. This was successful,

and Pip 4 and Pip 5 were captured after heavy fighting. The Battalion

actually took no part in this general offensive, and fortunately the

enemy’s artillery was so deeply engaged in combating the two serious

attacks on their lines at the “Nose” and on “P” ridge that most of us

were able to look from our trenches and watch the pyrotechnic display

on either side. There can be no doubt that the British suffered heavy

casualties in the minor attacks and counter-attacks which followed this

initial success on the “P” ridge, but any attack on such strongholds as

the “Pips” must of necessity be at great expense. The battle raged for

about four days, but gradually subsided, and on the 27th of April the

Battalion was taken out of the line and marched back to Tetre Verte,

just over the ridge of the Kolonovan Heights, “D” Company remaining

at Mektoub in immediate reserve to the London Scottish, who were

holding the line east of Bekerli. Of all the camps in the Salonican

area Mektoub was undoubtedly the safest, as it lay behind the cover of

the hill, and consisted of tiers of dug-outs built into the very steep

side of the hill. While out of the line the Battalion found fatigues

even harder than in the line, for as far back as Tetre Verte one could

wander about unobserved by the enemy, and, therefore, people who were

seen very little in the front line were now very much in evidence.

On the eighth of May the line from the village of Krastali to Waggon

Hill was slightly advanced in order to straighten the line which had

been pushed forward by the partial success of the forward movement

on the “P” ridge. Of course, this operation amounted to “peaceful

penetration,” and no attack was necessary. The actual advance was made

by the London Scottish and the Westminsters on that part of the line

north-east of the Bekerli village, and was of course continued towards

Krastali by the division on their right. Only “D” Company from Mektoub

was engaged in this operation, having been brought up in support of the

London Scottish as far as Piton 5, in rear of Middle Hill, and not to

be mistaken for Pip 5 on the “P” ridge. On the 179th Brigade front the

movement was performed without obstruction by the enemy, though further

north-west near the village of Krastali strong opposition was met by

the Division advancing from the Whaleback, and heavy artillery support

had to be given to assist this section of the advance. Unfortunately

one of the supporting batteries was firing from the dip in rear of

Piton 5 and inflicted several casualties on “D” Company owing to their

shells bursting at the muzzle of the guns. Lieutenant Miles and Private

Cutchee were badly wounded, while Lieutenant F. W. Lewis and Lieutenant

Martin received minor wounds and remained on duty.

The original line ran from Bekerli village north-west along the forward

slopes of Mamelon Vert, Bastion Hill, Piton 6, Hill 275, Scratchbury

Hill, Bowls Barrow, along Whaleback to Horse Shoe Hill, but after

the advance the new line ran through Pitons 1, 2, 3 and 4, Basin

Hill, Single Tree Hill, Tomato Hill over Krastali Nullah forward of

Whaleback, and on the Pip ridge. After the night’s operation on the

8th, “D” Company returned to Mektoub under the cover of a heavy fog,

the rest of the Battalion having remained at Tetre Verte during the

advance.

The next night, the 9th of May, “D” Company left Mektoub as local

reserve for the Westminsters, who pushed forward on to Goldies Hill,

thus forming a salient in our new line between Basin Hill and Tomato

Hill. The taking of Goldies by the Westminsters was resented by the

Bulgar, who made a strong attack on the position with the assistance

of a heavy artillery preparation. However, the Queen’s Westminsters

held on and drove off the attack after heavy local fighting. On the

10th the Battalion moved from Tetre Verte and took over the new line

from the London Scottish and also Goldies from the Westminsters.

[Illustration: _Rough Sketch Map shewing the Advance in May 1917 on the

DOIRAN-VARDAR front._]

The advance was comparatively a bloodless victory as far as the 179th

Brigade was concerned, nevertheless it was of great importance on our

front. From the new line the Selemli-Dautli plain was now under our

direct observation from Pitons 3 and 4, Basin Hill, Goldies, and these

hills therefore became positions from which an attack on the Selemli

Fords could be attempted. Furthermore, it denied the Bulgar of the

freedom of manœuvre over the captured part of “No Man’s Land,” while

facing north from Goldies and Tomato Hill we were in closer touch with

the enemy’s advanced posts near Devedzili on the slopes of White Scar

and Flat Iron Hills. It had been impossible for the British forces to

push forward before as we had only captured Pips 4 and 5 on the “P”

ridge a few days previously. The capture of these two pips enabled our

men to occupy more advanced positions without being under the direct

observation of the Bulgar. The enemy resented very much the aggression

on our part, and constantly shelled the newly-taken hills.

For the first fortnight of this period in the line the Battalion was

employed in consolidating the new positions, and on the forward slopes

of Tomato Hill, Single Tree Hill and Goldies, trenches were dug and

each night miles of barbed-wire entanglements were erected. All this

work was carried out under the protection of strong fighting patrols

which took up their positions on the ravine in front of Flat Iron Hill.

In daytime the hills were left in charge of a single sentry group and

one signaller, while the remainder of the garrison retired for the day

into the small nullahs on the rear of each hill ready to counter-attack

should a message be received from the sentry group. Throughout the day

the enemy ranged in the new-cut trenches, and with the exception of an

unfortunate shell which wounded Lieutenant Hounsell, our forward groups

had a charmed life. Only a minimum force was left behind the hills

during the day; the remainder of the men returned to the old camps

on Hill 275 and Piton 6. At night time, however, when large working

parties were engaged in consolidating the positions, the enemy’s

artillery became very active and many casualties resulted.

However, the hill which received the greatest strafe at nights was

Goldies; the occupation of this point annoyed the Bulgar very much.

The hill consisted of three distinct peaks one in front of the other,

and were known as Goldies I, II, and III. Trenches were sited on II

and III, while on Goldies I a strong patrol went out each night. For

the first week of our occupation the hill was constantly shelled, and

no less than ten distinct batteries showered their offerings on our

heads. Fire came from White Scar direction in the north, from Pip

1 and 2 on the right, and from the Ouvrage de Trapeze on the left.

In time we became acquainted with the direction of each battery and

special sentries were posted who shouted “No. 6,” and then all the men

on Goldies II bobbed down to the shelter in the shallow trenches, the

occupants of Goldies III taking no notice; but when the sentry shouted,

“No. 4 battery” it was the men on Goldies III who bobbed down while

No. II men carried on with their work as though nothing had happened.

Throughout the night the hill received a constant bombardment, and in

one hour alone 600 shells fell near Goldies II and III.

Like the garrisons of the other hills the night garrison on Goldies

retired for the day to the nullah in rear of the hill, leaving a small

sentry group on Goldies II and III. The only approach to the top of

Goldies from our lines was up a small ravine, and the Bulgars were

apparently aware of its existence, the place was shelled both day and

night, and was christened Pip Squeak Alley. At night, large working

parties were sent up from the support battalion of the Brigade and dug

a communication trench up the rear of the hill, and also one connecting

Goldies II and III, but considerable casualties were incurred while the

work was in progress.

The patrol on Goldies I pushed out scouts at night to the ravine in

front, and one night a patrol, under Lieutenant Lewis, met a strong

force of 20 Bulgars and a short sharp fight ensued. Our losses were

only slight, chiefly wounds from bombs, but several Bulgars were

killed, Lieutenant Lewis gallantly rushing the post and shooting two

of the enemy with his revolver. The next night it was decided to

raid the post with artillery support, but the patrol found that the

Bulgar had fled. A special watch on this ravine was therefore kept,

and Lieutenant Andrew and his batman Joines (“D” Company) spent the

next day hidden in the bushes at the foot of Goldies I. A strong post

of Bulgars came up to the ravine at daylight and settled themselves

comfortably in the ravine, unaware of the watching couple. After a time

a Bulgar N.C.O. wandered away from his comrades and approached the

hiding place of Andrew and his batman, which was only 25 yards from

the enemy. Suddenly the Bulgar’s attention was attracted by a walking

stick on the ground which had been left by Andrew just before dawn when

they took cover in the bushes. The Bulgar picked it up and examined his

souvenir, but before he had taken full details of his find Lieutenant

Andrew and Private Joines rushed at him and captured him. Whether the

other Bulgars near by were struck motionless or whether the N.C.O.

was particularly unpopular it is not known, but in broad daylight and

in full view of the enemy Andrew and his batman chased their prisoner

towards our lines and soon got under the cover of the hill. No attempt

was made to follow them, and the Bulgar N.C.O. was soon on his way to

Brigade Headquarters. It was an amusing adventure, but the brilliant

daring of our two representatives cannot be over-estimated. Surprise

had beaten numbers.

The Battalion held these new positions until the end of May When the

whole Brigade was taken out of the line and concentrated at Dache near

Kolonova. Rumours floated around that Pip 3 on the “P” ridge was to be

our objective, but on the 5th of June orders were received to march

back as far as Hadji Junas, about 10 miles behind the line. The march

was carried out on the night of the 5th of June, and rain poured down

making the route over the soft marshy ground near Lake Ardzan slippery

and treacherous. The Battalion remained here for three days in hot

weather and had an enjoyable rest.

On the 8th of June the march was continued south via Janis and Kukus

as far as Sargol. By this time it was apparent that Salonica was to be

our destination, and on the 11th of June we arrived at Uchanter, not

far from Dudular, our first camp in Salonica, having stayed one day at

Nares and another day at Ambarkoy on the route. This trek from the line

was much pleasanter than the trek to the line in the previous March.

Marching was done at night under the silvery rays of a bright moon,

each night’s journey being about 15 miles. The weather was now becoming

hot and marching at night was far more enjoyable than toiling along

under the hot rays of the midday sun; after leaving Hadji Junas the

roads were good, and I think the march was enjoyed by most of us; even

the company mules behaved themselves and gave a minimum of trouble.

For the rest of the week the Battalion, in company with the remainder

of the 60th Division, spent its time doing what the authorities were

pleased to call “intensive training,” which meant field work from morn

to night. During the night of the 19th of June the Battalion packed up

its home and marched to the docks at Salonica. Great secrecy was made

of the destination, and even the Commanding Officer and his staff who

went down to the ship earlier in the evening were not allowed to return

to the camp in case the news leaked out. On the morning of the 20th of

June the Battalion boarded the _Abbasieh_, and learning that the boat

was one of the Khedival Line, Egypt was soon on every lip. The sea

journey was pleasant, and on the 22nd of June, while at sea, dinners

celebrating the anniversary of our departure from England, twelve

months previously, were held in all parts of the ship.

CHAPTER XXXII

ALEXANDRIA, 23RD JUNE, 1917--ISMAILIA--BELAH--DESERT TRAINING--GAMBLI

AND TEL EL FARA--EL SHAULTH--PREPARATIONS FOR THE PALESTINE OFFENSIVE

Alexandria was reached on the midnight of the 22nd June, 1917, and

every one was pleased to get rid of the ever-present encumbrance on

board troopships--the life belt, which brought back memories of the

_Transylvania_. What a glorious sunrise we witnessed, the harbour

with its white buildings gave us a feeling that we had at last again

reached civilisation after our sojourn in the wilds of Macedonia.

Disappointment, however, was keen when no leave ashore was granted, and

only a few officers on duty were allowed on the Docks. Lieutenant Lewis

and the writer however, under the pretext of purchasing food for the

officers’ messes, spent a pleasant afternoon in the town and honoured

“Groppi’s Tea Shop” with our presence, only to return to the boat to

find a train alongside with half of the battalion already entrained.

Early in the evening the Battalion started on its journey to Ismailia

on the Suez Canal. Every one enjoyed the scenery of the Nile Delta

while daylight lasted, and the beauty of the Egyptian sunset appealed

to all. Descriptions of Egypt are to be found in many books, and I need

hardly spend any time in this short history to describe it, sufficient

to say that the Battalion thoroughly enjoyed the train journey and the

excitement of being in a strange land made us forget the war.

Just after midnight the train pulled up at Ismailia and the desert was

struck for the first time. The moon was bright, making night like day,

and under the leadership of camp guides the Battalion marched through

the heavy sand for about a mile or so and were soon allotted their

lines in a huge base camp. Tea, as usual, was soon made and partaken

of. Every one then retired to their tents and soon fell asleep; here

was a land, at last, where blankets were not absolutely essential.

However, dawn is early in these latitudes, and the sun shone down

with considerable fierceness from about 5 a.m. The oppressive heat of

the tents soon woke every one, to say nothing of the heavy hum of the

aeroplanes from the local aerodrome, which flew so low that they missed

the tent tops by a few feet, much to the dismay of the occupants.

Flying cannot be carried out with such security in the heat of the day

in Egypt, owing to the numerous air pockets, and during our stay at

Ismailia reveille each morning was heralded by the heavy drone of these

planes.

Ismailia, a small town on the Suez Canal, has a considerable French

population, connected with the canal company. The town is very clean,

even in the native quarters, while palm groves and tropical gardens

furnish a relieving contrast to the surrounding desert of yellow sand.

During the war it became the Base of the Australian Imperial Forces and

also contained a large British Ordnance Depot. The main railway line

from Port Said to Suez passed through the town, and on the east lay the

large lakes of Timsah which form part of the Suez Canal. Leave passes

into the town were granted, and this freedom was greatly appreciated by

the men; for since the days of Katerina we had not even been encamped

near a village. Officers were invited as honorary members of the French

Club which provided excellent luncheons and dinners at a reasonable

cost. The place was crowded each evening and jolly times were spent

there. Leave as far as Cairo and Alexandria was granted, and parties

left daily for three days in one of these cities. A certain amount of

training was carried out in the early morning and in the evening. The

men in their pith helmets and “shorts” soon became acclimatised and

accustomed to the terrific heat of the sun. Bathing parades in the

lakes were held daily, and on the whole our stay at Ismailia was most

enjoyable. At the end of July the Battalion moved by road as far as

Kantara.

It was only a few days after our arrival at Ismailia that the Transport

Section, minus horses, limbers, mules, etc., joined us from Salonica.

They had left on board the _Cestrian_, and while at sea had been

torpedoed and landed on the island of Mudros.

The following eye-witness story by the Transport Officer, Lieutenant

T. W. Pearson, gives a short description of the sinking of the

_Cestrian_:--

“The Battalion and part of the transport personnel sailed for

Egypt a few days before the main body of the transport. The

remainder of the transport received orders to load and embark

on the _Cestrian_, on the 23rd of June, 1917. In addition to

ourselves, with our limbers and animals, the Sherwood Rangers

Yeomanry and a Divisional S.A.A. column sailed on the boat; in

all about 980 men and 960 animals.

“While we were loading, a German plane came over, but it flew

at such a height that no one took much notice of it, but

afterwards we thought it may have had something to do with the

loss of the _Cestrian_.

“The Staff Veterinary Officers commented very favourably on the

condition of our animals.

“We eventually sailed about 9.0 p.m. in the evening, under

glorious conditions; all the men and animals having comfortable

berths. We were escorted by two destroyers, and these sailed

on either side. We were about 12 or 13 hours out of Salonica

early on Sunday morning, the 24th June, having just been

dismissed from boat drill, and all was peaceful and the water

as smooth as a billiard table, when suddenly the boat gave a

terrible lurch; the water around was churned up and shot to a

great height on the starboard side. We had been torpedoed right

amidship and the torpedo had struck the boilers, and soon every

one was drenched with the sooty water which had been forced out

of the funnels, and a funny looking lot we were.

“Part of the torpedo was forced on the upper deck. It was a

terrible shock to all, as there was no warning whatever, but

no one lost his head, every one went quietly to his respective

boat station, without any panic. One of the life-boats allotted

to us was broken up by the explosion, and, as an example of

the coolness of our men, one of the fellows calmly produced a

pocket camera and took snapshots of the damage.

“Nobody was allowed to go down below to the animals, though

we could hear them screaming. If the incident had occurred

about half an hour later we should have been below at stables

and probably there would have been many more casualties.

Fortunately, the casualties were confined to the ship’s crew

below. I heard that one had been killed and several seriously

wounded and scalded.

“Within a few seconds, one of the destroyers was alongside

and commenced transferring the men from the wreck aboard her

by means of ropes and rope ladders, and while this was taking

place she was firing at 1,000 yards range at the periscope

of the Hun, and is believed to have made a hit. The second

destroyer was circling around at full speed to keep the

submarine from reappearing. Many of the men jumped overboard

on the port side, but all were saved by the second escort. The

wireless was soon busy, and in a very short time help came

from all directions. The _Cestrian_ did not sink at once, but

was towed to within a few miles of land when she suddenly went

down with all animals on board. It is thought that she would

have been towed in safely except for the fact that so many

port-holes had been left open.

“The men were landed at Mudros, which was one of the islands

used as a base depot during the Dardanelles campaign. We were a

queer-looking crowd when we landed; some with nothing on their

feet; others just in shirts and trousers; I don’t think anyone

was fully dressed. The staff on the island were wonderfully

kind, and did all that was possible to make us comfortable.

Within half an hour of landing at Mudros, all were billeted

and were comfortably housed. The A.S.C. officials were very

prominent and had rations out to the men in a very short time.

During our stay here, the Y.M.C.A. deserves great praise,

they got all manner of things for the men free of charge, and

organised concerts. They did so well that I believe many of

the men wrote home to their parents to send a subscription to

the Y.M.C.A. We were on the island for just a week when we

were picked up by a boat from Salonica proceeding with troops

of our own Brigade (London Scottish) for Egypt. We arrived

in Alexandria minus our transport. I regret to say that the

Battalion never had such good animals again all the time in

the Palestine campaign as those which we had lost on the

_Cestrian_. On arrival in Egypt the Battalion had to have the

‘cast offs’ from the other Battalions in the Division who were

reducing their strength, and, naturally, they handed to us all

their ‘duds,’ and you never saw such ‘clothes racks’ as they

were. How the transport ever kept up with the Battalion on trek

in Palestine I don’t know. As time went on, however, we were

able to make exchanges with the Remount Department and got rid

of some of our worst.”

To return to the doings of the Battalion in Egypt. Their stay at

Kantara, which had by this time developed into an immense base for

the Egyptian Expeditionary Force, was only for a day, and they were

soon on the train bound for the Palestine Front. This desert railway

across the Sinai Peninsula for over a distance of 150 miles was one of

the finest engineering feats of the war. Early in the war the British

garrison had jealously guarded Egypt by means of outposts along the

Suez Canal, and frequent raids on this defensive line were made by

the Turks. It was, therefore, decided to push the line right out into

the desert, and under the pressure of the Australian Mounted units,

the Desert Mounted Corps and certain Infantry Divisions, the Turk was

forced north, and when the Battalion joined the E.E.F. the firing

line was just south of Gaza and running inland to Sheik Nuran on the

south-east, generally speaking along the line of the Wadi Ghuzze. The

whole of this advance from the Canal to Gaza had been made over the

trackless waste of the Sinai Peninsula desert. In order to provide

rations, stores and ammunition to the advancing troops a railway was

laid by the Royal Engineers, ably assisted by working parties of the

Egyptian Labour Corps of natives. The railway was kept up to the

advancing troops at each step forward, and in order to provide water a

pipe line ran at the side of the railway. Dumps and depots were made

at intervals. At El Arish numerous sidings were built and stores and

water were accumulated, and the small oasis of palm groves became a

busy advanced base. From this point the line was pushed forward through

Rafa, and when the Battalion arrived in Egypt the railhead was at

Belah a few miles south of Gaza; where there were large dumps and also

two extensive stationary hospitals. On arrival at Belah the Battalion

detrained and marched through loose sand, ankle deep, and great was

the relief when it pitched its bivouac near the seashore; the pleasure

of sea bathing was shortlived, for in a few days, on the 29th July,

1917, the Battalion marched inland to join the Desert Corps. It was

here at Belah that a new method of transport was introduced in the

shape of the Camel Transport Corps. That fascinating quadruped, the

camel, was substituted for the mule, although a few mule-drawn vehicles

still remained for general purposes. At Belah there were extensive

camel lines; each camel company, which consisted of 600 camels, having

its own area. Ropes were staked across the width of these lines at

regular intervals and to these ropes the camels were tethered a few

yards apart. Each pair of camels had an Egyptian attendant, who was

dressed in a long butcher-blue smock with the letters C.T.C. in red on

the chest. These natives took great pride in their lines and kept them

particularly clean, while the saddles were neatly arranged just in rear

of the camels.

The saddle fitted over the hump of the camel, and at each side near the

top of the saddle were fixed two stout bars of wood, about ten inches

longer than the saddles, on to which the loads were hooked in rope

nets. Water was carried in “fanatis” or copper tanks, which rested on

the sides of the saddle. A certain number of men were detailed as camel

guides from each company and section in the Battalion.

On leaving Belah, on the evening of the 29th July, the Battalion struck

inland in a south-easterly direction along rough-made tracks, but the

sand was loose and made the going very heavy. Although it was evening

time the heat was terrific, and soon the perspiration was rolling down

every one’s face and the dust raised by the column soon formed into

mud on the face and hands. Every one was choked with dust and eyes

and nostrils became extremely painful. No one felt like singing, and

even talking was rewarded with a mouthful of sand, one and all just

blindly followed on through the cloud of dust raised by the four in

front, which could only just be discerned. Water was limited, and it

was practically forbidden to drink it; only a mouth wash or gargle

could be indulged in. After struggling for about nine or ten miles

in this unpleasant fashion the whole column was relieved to move off

the tracks and settle down for a rest. With no movement the dust

clouds disappeared, and in the wondrous beauty of the moonlight of

a warm Egyptian night bivouacs were soon erected, but water was too

scarce to make tea, and doubts arose as to when the next issue would

arrive. Nevertheless, tiredness overcame the Battalion, and it was

soon asleep. The next morning the sun poured down, but the arrival of

the water camels cheered us and the routine of desert life, which was

to be our existence for some time to come, had begun. After a day’s

rest, which included the kicking about of a football by some of the

more energetic, the Battalion moved off again in the evening, about 4

p.m., and plodded its weary way past Sheik Nuran to Gambli on the Wadi

Ghuzze. This was a repetition of the previous night’s march in every

detail, except that the ending was not a simple right wheel on to the

level desert, but as a special treat a descent of the steep cliffs

of the wadi banks had to be negotiated. This descent was difficult

with such appendages as company mules, camels and transport, and was

followed by a mile over the stony bed of the wadi. About midnight the

Battalion halted and settled for the night under the steep banks of the

wadi. The next day the companies went out to take over the line on the

Gambli defences. Reliefs were carried out by day and companies simply

marched over the desert in mass, a most amusing performance after the

communication trenches in France and the careful night reliefs on the

Salonica Front. At this point of the line the Turks were at least

20 miles away, and, therefore, precautions from shelling were not

necessary. This, indeed, was a pleasant part to hold and keep. Strong

points well wired around were held, these being about 150 yards apart.

The right flank of our line curled back so that it actually faced away

from the Turk. The front was protected by night by cavalry patrols

of Australian Light Horse, while to the east the Desert Camel Corps

was operating as a mobile flank guard. Bivouacs were arranged in the

small wadis or fissures in the ground and, of course, movement was not

restricted. To those who were not privileged to see this part of the

war it would be humorous to think of the sentry by day standing in the

trench shewing well above the parapet under the protection of a huge

umbrella-like shade which could be seen for miles around. Although the

war in this theatre lacked shot and shell it had other horrors in the

shape of oppressive heat, limited supplies of water, sandstorms, and

numerous flies. In addition to the ever-present insect life associated

with active service and the trenches, there were centipedes, scorpions,

tarantula spiders and small snakes, which invaded our blankets.

Chameleons were also plentiful and were kept as pets, though we never

committed the atrocity attributed to a man in a Scottish Division on

the Palestine Front who placed a pet chameleon on his tartan kilt and

wondered why the poor little beggar suddenly died.

An average day in these parts was as follows: Early morning company

drill in front of the wire, breakfast, and then utter collapse and

seeking of shade until about 4 p.m. The only joy of the hot day was

the arrival of the camels with water, and even this water was strongly

chlorinated. Water was drawn from the Wadi Ghuzze where, by digging

down for a few feet, pools of water were frequently found. During the

day every one lay down and put pieces of muslin over their faces,

hands and exposed knee caps, so that the flies should not be too

irritating. Each afternoon a hot wind, called the “Khamsin,” blew

regularly and brought with it a sandstorm. Drifting sand found its way

into every nook and cranny; the food was soon covered and things were

generally unpleasant while the storm lasted. It was during one of these

afternoons that a private remarked: “They call this a land of milk

and honey, eh! One tin between 20 men and not a b----bee to be seen.”

However, about 4 p.m. each day the atmosphere cooled a little; letter

writing (not to forget the inevitable censoring), card playing and

dinner were the next items on the programme, only to be marred by the

company drill and exercises that followed.

At night-time sentry groups were posted by each platoon in its

own strong point, and visiting patrols wandered between the posts

throughout the night. It was a short night and no aerial torpedoes or

other types of frightfulness disturbed the tour of duty. Each evening

about 5 p.m. large bodies of Australian Cavalry went out to the front,

sometimes accompanied by Armoured Cars, and took up an outpost line

some five or six miles ahead of the defensive line. But even with this

cavalry screen it was possible for a strong raiding party of Turks to

attack one of our posts. In fact, only a short time before our arrival,

our predecessors had been surprised one morning by a heavy bombardment

with field guns, which some adventurous Turks had brought up under

cover of darkness.

The Battalion, however, remained in undisputed possession of this part

of the line until the 12th August, when it was relieved by the 2/13th

Londons (Kensingtons) and retired to Tel el Fara, renowned as being a

camping ground of Richard Cœur-de-Lion and his Crusaders. Tel el Fara

was a high cliff jutting out into the Wadi Ghuzze and could be seen for

many miles around and was used as an observation post. It was the local

landmark for all who were lost on the desert. It is an easy matter

to be lost on the desert, as each square mile is identical with its

neighbours, and only a feature like Tel el Fara helped the wanderer.

The rest of the month was spent in training and lectures, when the heat

permitted, and was only varied by an occasional route march in the

early morning, not a pleasant outing. The tracks were not watered by

the local borough council and chewing grit was the only occupation of

the silent troops; talking and singing was impossible, and this denial

always added to the monotony of the march. Practice attacks were also

carried out against imaginary enemies.

By the beginning of September the Battalion had moved to El Shaulth,

near Sheik Nuran, and remained there to prepare for the offensive which

was to be made in Palestine. The men had become accustomed to the

heat and no longer was it necessary to reserve parades until evening

time. All day and every day training was carried out with vigour,

until Brigade operations in the way of advanced guards, attacks and

long night marches became frequent. A rifle range was built and field

firing was done. It may be interesting to mention that some of our

tactical schemes were carried out some six or seven miles in front

of the wire of the defences. On one occasion the Brigade set out on

a long night march by the assistance of many luminous compasses and

numerous pacers, the objective being a lone tree standing in the open

desert some ten miles away from our camps. The march was made and by

all the careful calculations we arrived at our destination about two

hours before dawn. A halt was called, but no trace of the lone tree

could be found, and after an energetic search by mounted officers and

a consequent “pow-wow” the verdict, “Lost,” was given, and there was

nothing to do but to wait till dawn. When the sun rose it transpired

that we were in the correct spot, but during the night some Australian

Troop, which had run short of wood, had cut down the tree which had

stood alone in the desert on the previous day, and to all appearances

had stood since the days of the Flood, only to be felled by the hand

of a “Dinkum.” The opinion of the Brigade staff who had arranged this

pleasant little outing is not recorded, but it is thought was not

complimentary to our friends from the Antipodes.

Plans for the great attack were being drawn up about this time, and

officers made reconnaissances towards the Turkish lines. These outings

were no small undertakings. A party of officers and grooms would leave

El Shaulth about 5 a.m. in the morning and ride over the desert to the

more rugged and undulating country to the south of Beersheba, and then

spend some hours in the heat of the day in scouting over the hills on

foot to become acquainted with the ground, and at the same time doing

their best to evade the Turkish patrols which frequented the hills.

The party would then rendezvous at a given time in the early evening

and start on the homeward journey. A halt would be called about ten

miles from the Turkish lines, at which point it was considered safe to

disregard the Turk. Here, under the glorious moonlight, a picnic would

be held and the adventures of the day would be recounted, and after a

smoke the journey would be resumed, camp being reached by about 2 a.m.

the next morning. From the Turkish lines to the Wadi Ghuzze landmarks

were definite enough, but on the other side of the wadi there was

nothing but sand for miles. Everyone knew the most direct route to

the camp, and, of course, this was the beginning of an argument which

often ended in parties of officers going off in different directions.

At different times during the night these parties struck the camp; some

had taken the direct route, some had been misled by lights in other

camps; others found that some camp which had existed when they went

out had moved during the day, and so on. However, on return to camp

there was always a hot meal ready, prepared by our faithful batmen,

who waited up for us. A word here perhaps would not be out of place in

praise of the batmen of the Battalion. Veritable “scroungers,” they

always thought of their officers, and nothing was too hot or too heavy,

not even the Company Commander’s valise. At the end of each day’s trek

or manœuvre they forgot their own fatigue and prepared meals for the

mess, the variety of which was confined to the army rations and the

ever-present issue of sand.

The only excitement of the war at El Shaulth was the daily visit of two

enemy aeroplanes to our camps and a few days’ operations at Hiseia,

on the Wadi Ghuzze, where we tackled the banks of the wadi instead of

trenches dug in the flat sand, and where we had already exhausted the

possibility of taking cover on such ground during the attack.

Besides the shortage of water, fuel was also very limited, and Egypt

was practically denuded of trees to provide fuel for the E.E.F. One

Company cook, however, had different views as to the origin of his

firewood, and after vainly endeavouring to chop a hard piece of olive

wood which had been issued to him, paused, and with much emphasis

consigned the trunk to a far hotter fire than his own, remarking what

he required was “wood and not Adam’s petrified doorposts.”

So far I have only spoken on the warlike side of our stay at El

Shaulth, but among the pleasanter things of life was the leave to Cairo

or Alexandria which had been granted. With what joy those few miles

over the desert to Sheik Nuran were traversed, followed by a scramble

for the leave train and then a long train journey on the Desert Railway

to Kantara, which took about twelve hours. At Kantara a rush was made

for the Divisional Rest Camp, a wash and shave and breakfast and a dash

for the first available train on the Egyptian State Railways and then

a comfortable journey to Cairo or Alexandria. I need hardly describe

either of these cities, for as holiday resorts they hold a world-wide

reputation. The return to the line about nine days later was never so

pleasant. The heat became oppressive again, the meal at the rest camp

at Kantara was adversely criticised, and the desert train journey was

monotonous in the extreme. However, on rejoining the Battalion, tales

of the Continental, Shepheards, the Pyramids, the Sphinx, the Barrage

and so forth were told, while the fellows from Alexandria talked of

nothing but the Majestic, the Regina Palace, the Races, Bathing, and

Groppi’s.

By the middle of October the serious side of the campaign in Palestine

had commenced, and most people had had their leave in Egypt. Leave was

stopped and football and sports in the evenings, and an occasional

Divisional concert party were our only entertainments. The post was

regular and parcels were received, although occasionally a foot-note

in Battalion orders to the effect that the mails from the United

Kingdom on certain dates had been lost at sea through enemy action

made us depressed. Canteen stores were plentiful, as we were near the

railhead at Sheik Nuran, but they soon became less in quantity as

the ration trains were then being employed for war material for the

coming advance. Towards the end of October the attack on Beersheba

was a popular topic, and the hard training was not to be in vain. The

Battalion was fit and strong, although malaria and fever had claimed

their victims, and a fair number were sent down to Base Hospitals.

However, the Battalion was ready and willing to show the Turks the way

to the north.

While at El Shaulth several changes took place in the higher command.

Major-General J. S. Shea, C.M.G., had taken over the Division from

Major-General E. S. Bulfin, C.B., who had been promoted to the command

of the 20th Corps, while Lieut.-Colonel C. de Putron left us to go

to the School of Instruction at Zeitoun, near Cairo, his place being

filled by Lieut.-Colonel T. E. Bisdee (Duke of Cornwall’s L.I.).

Colonel Bisdee was intensely popular with all ranks from the first day

of joining the Battalion, and in the short time he commanded us before

Beersheba he worked wonders. The Company Commanders at this time were

Captains C. H. Rimington, F. W. Lewis, K. A. Wills, and A. C. H. Benké.

CHAPTER XXXIII

BEERSHEBA, 1917 (21ST OF OCTOBER TO 4TH OF NOVEMBER)--WADI WELFARE

The left flank of the Turkish line, which ran south-eastward from Gaza,

formed a stronghold around the south-eastern outskirts of Beersheba.

In the main scheme of the advance in Palestine the 60th Division was

detailed to attack and take those trenches covering the Khalasa Road

which ran from Beersheba on the south-west of the town. On the right

of the Division were the 21st Corps cavalry regiment (½nd County of

London Yeomanry) and they were ordered to make an enveloping movement

simultaneously with the main attack on the Beersheba defences. From

the desert line held by the Battalion near the Wadi Ghuzze at Gambli a

long approach march was necessary. On the 21st of October, 1917, the

Battalion moved from the Wadi Ghuzze, near Gambli, where the 179th

Brigade had been concentrated. The march was not a difficult one, as

the track lay over country of a more solid surface than the desert we

had just left, but some sympathy must be given to “D” Company of the

Battalion, who had marched some additional eight miles at midday across

the desert from Divisional Head Quarters at Shellal, where they had

represented the Battalion at a Divisional Church Parade in the morning

and had been on parade since the early hours of dawn.

In the cool of the evening the column started out full of glee, knowing

that at last a march was to be undertaken without that horrible feeling

that the further one went from camp the further one would have to

retrace one’s steps. The weather was fine and the journey was along

the high ground overlooking the Wadi Shanag, a continuation of the

Wadi Ghuzze, past the peak of Goz Mabrouk and across the Shanag at Bir

Esani to the high ground that lay between the fork of the function of

the Wadis Imalaga and Esani, just south of Rashid Bek. About midnight

the column halted, and the Battalion took up an outpost line reaching

from Rashid Bek, a desolate, empty eastern house standing some 690

feet above sea-level, to the north bank of the Wadi Imalaga. The

remainder of the Brigade extended the line to the north as far as the

Karm-Beersheba Road. The line was taken up on the 22nd of October, and

the Battalion remained here until the 28th of October. During the week

forward reconnaissance work was done, and, under cover of the outpost,

stores and guns were brought up by means of tractors, while large

columns of camels and small white donkeys brought up ammunition, etc. A

large dump of foodstuffs and stores was formed near the Khalasa-Esani

road, and it was amusing to think that this dump was some few hundred

yards in advance of the outpost line, although in front of the dump

there was a cavalry screen of Australian mounted troops. Even if the

Turk had attacked in force the outpost line would have proved a strong

defence, though perhaps the dump and its camel lines would have been

sacrificed. Strict orders were given to the officers in the line that

no one was allowed through the line without strict scrutiny, as small

bodies of nomadic Arabs acting as spies were always wandering about

this neighbourhood. One evening a horseman approached one of our posts

and was promptly halted. He was challenged. He argued in his Australian

twang that he was friendly, but the officer was adamant and ordered him

to advance for further investigation, to which he replied, “Do I look

like a ---- spy with these 400 ---- camels?” and lo! from the darkness

in front loomed a silent column of camels which had lost their way when

returning from the dump and had not used the recognised gap in the line

further to our right flank.

During this week every one wrote letters as it was a doubtful thing

when the post would next be sent, once the advance had commenced. Every

one rested and no movement by day was encouraged. Such relaxation came

as a welcome change after the weeks of hard gruelling, and, to quote

the words of our Commander-in-Chief, Field-Marshal Sir Edmund Allenby,

on the occasion of his admission to the Freedom of the City of London,

when he referred to the 60th Division:--

“Before it attacked Beersheba it was exercising so hard to keep fit

that the G.O.C. ordered his men to eat and drink more and not work so

hard.”

Not only for purposes of rest, however, was this stay made at Bir

Esani. We had left our old line with its water supply many miles away,

and it was necessary for the R.E.’s to develop and exploit wells that

existed at Abu Ghalyun under the cover of the mounted patrols out to

our front.

Our own part of the line was held by “C” and “D” Companies, with “A”

and “B” in support. Fortunately the Turk did not trouble us, although

a short distance further north a skirmish took place between the 74th

Division and the Turk near the Karm-Beersheba road. The enemy was

driven off with loss and gave no further trouble. On Sunday evening,

the 28th of October, the march was resumed as far as Abu Ghalyun,

which lay some seven or eight miles south-west of the Beersheba

defences. The march was only a matter of a few miles and was along

the level though stony bed of the Wadi Imalaga. The Battalion halted

but bivouacs were not erected, and the very minimum of movement was

made. It was a glorious day, and final preparations for the attack

were made; aeroplane maps were studied and final orders were issued.

The Commanding Officer told the Company Commanders, and through the

usual channels the real facts of the case were put before the private

soldier. Arrangements for transport and water were made, but the great

event was the issue of a small bottle of tea and rum to each man.

Rum was not a regular issue in this hot climate, but by this time

(October) the nights were becoming colder and the light kit worn by

the men required something more than keenness to get at the Turk to

cheer the dawn, hence the rum and tea. No sign of the enemy was seen

this day except two Turkish aeroplanes flying at a great height over

the concentration of troops from Karm to Abu Ghalyun, but British air

scouts were soon after them and by great skill drove them down. Later,

when the plates in their cameras were developed at Cairo, a complete

set of photographs showing the concentration of troops was obtained.

Had these planes succeeded in reaching their lines our reception at

Beersheba might have been even warmer.

On the evening of the 30th, before leaving Abu Ghalyun, the Commanding

Officer, Lieut.-Colonel Bisdee addressed the Battalion and in a few

words told us what he expected of us. The result was never in doubt,

and the regiment rose as one man and cheered him. It is safe to say

that at no time previously was the morale of the Battalion so high,

and the morrow augured badly for “Jacko,” as the Turk was called. It

was our first time “over the top,” as a Battalion, and every man from

the Colonel down to the latest-joined private determined to prove that

the 2nd Battalion of the Civil Service Rifles was worthy in every way

to uphold the traditions of the Regiment, which had been so gloriously

upheld in France by the 1st Battalion. The 60th Division had had a

great deal of hard work and a rough time with no prospect of glory, but

that night it was to start a career of much glory equal to that of any

Division in the War.

The first stage of the march towards Beersheba that night was as far as

Wadi Mirtaba, where the R.E.’s had developed an efficient water supply

a little more than two miles from the Turkish positions. Here the whole

of the wheel transport was parked under the cover of the steep banks

of the wadi, and the infantry shed their packs and resumed the march

in fighting kit. From this point we were only accompanied by camels

carrying ammunition and medical and signal stores. A section of the

Machine Gun Corps was attached to the Battalion here, for the actual

attack.

From this point the Khalasa Road ran direct to Beersheba and formed a

splendid guiding line through the wadis and hills on either side. From

aeroplane maps sketches of the wadis had been reproduced, and each wadi

had been allotted a familiar name; the local Arabic names were far too

difficult to memorise. Such names as Service, Scottish, Kensington,

Westminster, St. Pancras and Blackheath were given; while each

Battalion had named the wadis in their own particular sector by popular

names; some of our nicknames were Strand, Dorking, Watford, Walden and

Ware Wadis.

About 3,000 yards from the Wadi Mirtaba the Khalasa Road was joined by

the Wadi Halgon, and from this point right up to the Turkish trenches

they intertwined so much that one could hardly tell whether one was

walking on the road or in the wadi; from this fact the quality of the

“road” can be best judged.

At night-time the Turks sent out patrols to the hills in advance of

the trenches, and from these patrols resistance soon came in the shape

of rifle fire, and after sharp skirmishes they were driven back to

their lines. The only casualty on our side was a camel belonging to

“C” Company. Later machine-gun fire down the road became heavy and the

Companies soon got off the road into their prearranged wadis, where

protection was good. It might be mentioned here that the wadis in this

part were not deep ravines some sixty feet deep, like the Wadis Ghuzze,

Imalaga and Mirtaba, which we had passed, but were simply small valleys

between the hills, where a dried water-course was termed a “wadi” after

the larger variety further south.

The advanced guard was carried out by “D” Company, with orders to reach

Poplar Wadi, about 500 yards from the enemy trenches, and to form a

defensive line on the ridges on the further side of the Wadi; this was

carried out without loss, and strong forward positions were taken up

in advance of Poplar Wadi on both sides of the Khalasa Road. Patrols

went forward nearly to the enemy lines and were able to ascertain

that there were no wire entanglements in front of the enemy position.

This information was invaluable to the artillery, as many rounds of

ammunition were saved, instead of bombarding imaginary wire. From

aeroplane map photographs, definite lines of white spots could be

detected in front of the line of trenches, but that night it was proved

that they were merely white stones cunningly arranged by the Turk.

Throughout the night Turkish machine-gun fire was intermittent and

spattered the whole front with bullets. When dawn broke, any advance

up the Wadi Halgon was impossible, as it was raked by the fire of

two machine guns. Runners kept clear of the road and made their way

to the forward companies by rushing over each ridge into the wadi in

front. One runner, however, unaware of the dangers of the Wadi Halgon,

calmly strolled along in the early morning and of course, drew violent

fire both from machine guns and rifles on to his tracks, and after a

certain amount of dancing about he fell down. Every one thought he

had been hit, but Captain Wills, regardless of his personal safety,

dashed from the cover of the Wadi and ran out to the man. This again

was the cause of a further hail of bullets, and Wills fell down near

the man. Thinking that both of them were dead the Turks ceased fire,

but a moment or two later Captain Wills got up and made a successful

dash for safety in the wadi, and although the Turks reopened their

fire they did not hit Wills, who was no worse for his adventures. The

man, inspired by Wills, got up a few minutes later, and also made a

dash for our wadi, through a hail of bullets. Now comes the amusing

side of the incident. The breathless runner handed us a note, and when

it was opened the following words were exposed: “What time shall the

platoon drink its rum and tea? ----, Lieutenant, Officer Commanding

---- Platoon, ‘C’ Company.” Needless to say no reply was sent to this

request.

[Illustration: _ROUGH SKETCH MAP “BEERSHABA-HUJ” OPERATIONS.

OCTOBER-NOVEMBER --(1917)--_]

So much for the events of the night and early morning in the Wadi

Halgon.

In the general scheme it was arranged that the 181st Brigade on the

left of the 179th Brigade, should attack and capture the strongly

fortified hill known as “Hill 1,070,” which towered up in advance of

the general line of the Beersheba defences. Not until this hill was

captured was the main attack to be made.

As soon after dawn as light permitted, the operation of wire-cutting on

the enemy’s advanced works on Hill 1,070 was commenced by the Artillery

and was continued, with short checks owing to dust clouds, until 8.30

a.m., when the 181st Brigade moved to the attack, which was undertaken

by the 2/22nd and 2/24th Battalions, London Regiment, under cover of an

intense barrage and overhead machine-gun fire.

At 8.42 a.m. the positions were entered and captured, the Artillery

lifting on to the reverse slopes.

During this phase the 179th Brigade, led by the 2/14th and 2/15th

Battalions were gradually moving forward for the attack on the main

positions in conjunction with the 181st Brigade. At 10 a.m. the latter

had reorganised and were reported ready for the next phase, which was

preceded by wire-cutting on the part of the Artillery. This having been

completed by 11 a.m., orders were received from the 20th Corps for the

assault to take place in conjunction with the 74th Division on the left

at 12.15 p.m. By 12.45 p.m. the whole of the enemy main positions were

in our hands, and our left artillery group were left free to assist the

attack of the 74th Division, who were slightly checked on our left.

While the operations against Hill 1,070 were proceeding the Battalion

formed up under cover for their attack; and orders had been previously

issued to “D” Company in the advanced positions that should the Turk

leave his trenches on our direct front, as the result of the attack on

Hill 1,070, he was to be pursued with fire. Odd men had been seen to

retire, and the message came through that the Turks were retiring, and

“D” Company lined their ridge and poured fire into the enemy trenches.

However, the message of the Turks’ retirement which came from a rear

observation post was not quite correct, and was far too sanguine. The

retirement was not so wholesale as had been anticipated, and the Turk

returned strong retaliatory fire. “D” Company stuck to their positions,

and although suffering heavy casualties, continued to fire at the Turks

in the trenches. While this battle of cross fire was proceeding, orders

for the general advance were given, and, under the covering fire of

the advanced company, the attacking Companies “B” and “C,” with “A”

Company in immediate support, rushed the enemy’s line. In spite of

heavy opposition no one hesitated, and the attackers assaulted and

captured the trenches, killing the occupants and pursuing with fire

those who had retired. The Turks fired until the very last moment, and

when our fellows were within bayoneting distance held up their hands

and cried “Kamerad” or “Arab.” They were poorly clad, and apparently

the sprinkling of German N.C.O.’s had kept up their morale until the

sight of our bayonets. By 12.45 p.m. the position was in our hands, and

a line some 800 yards beyond the trenches was immediately consolidated.

Patrols pushed forward, but little was seen of the Turk; only small

groups could be seen in the distance running away as fast as their legs

could take them.

In clearing the trenches to our right flank, Private E. J. Cook, “C”

Company, the last unwounded member of his Lewis gun team, greatly

distinguished himself. Crawling out of the trench he engaged a

German-manned machine gun point-blank, and although the Lewis gun was

hit and he was twice severely wounded, he continued to serve his gun

until the enemy gun was knocked out, whereupon it was promptly captured

by a bombing party.

The cavalry who had worked around the flank from the east of Beersheba

occupied the town that evening, and the Reserve Battalions of the 60th

Division were sent forward to cover our front.

The conclusion of the day’s planned operations was marked by the

concentration of the attacking Brigades in the captured positions,

with outposts pushed out on the high ground overlooking Beersheba.

The 2/13th (Kensingtons) which had been detailed for this duty in our

Brigade succeeded in capturing two 77mm. guns which had been causing us

casualties earlier in the day.

To return to the actual attack by the Civil Service Rifles, the whole

operation had been a great success, and in spite of considerable

casualties the losses could not be considered too heavy. “D” Company,

the advanced Company, had suffered most while giving support to the

attacking Companies. “C” Company had the next highest total, as it

was their misfortune to advance over the machine-gun swept valley of

the Wadi Halgon. The casualties in “B” Company were much lighter, as

they were able to use the cover of the small branch nullahs in their

advance. “A” Company had very few casualties, but this does not reflect

that they did not do their share; it was their fortune. The whole

Battalion had at last been able to display its fighting qualities in a

real attack. The Battalion’s captures included three officers and over

50 men, while more than sixty dead Turks were buried by us afterwards

in their old trenches.

An amusing incident of the final scene of the attack was when the

stentorian voice of one of the sergeants of “C” Company was heard

during the lull in the rifle fire, shouting, “All officers and

sergeants”--an order which had palled on our ears at the close of the

numerous practice attacks during our training on the desert.

The evening was quiet enough and the Battalion was not worried by

Turkish artillery fire, and it was only an hour after the success of

the attack was known, when the Battalion transport under Lieutenant

Pearson and the water camels under Lieutenant Gearing arrived from

their hiding-place in the Wadi Mirtaba, where we had left them the

previous evening. Souvenir-hunting in the Turkish lines was our evening

pastime; but not until search parties had found and collected all the

killed and wounded and every man was accounted for.

The night was cold, but men availed themselves of the protection of

the trenches, and some of the more fortunate succeeded in obtaining

captured tents and bivouac sheets; but these were unpleasant dwellings

and smelt horribly. With the dead Turks lying around, the whole place

was no health resort. The Turk was a filthy fellow, as his trenches

showed, and the whole area was infested with flies. The next day the

dead Turks were collected and buried in their trenches. The British

guns had fired with great accuracy into the trenches, and in one

instance had knocked out a machine gun and its team of eight men.

On the 1st of November the infantry were employed in clearing the

battlefield while the 519 Field Company, R.E., entered the town of

Beersheba soon after dawn for the purpose of water development.

The captures by the 60th Division included two 77 mm. guns, many

machine guns, 15 officers and 193 other ranks unwounded, and 5 officers

and 85 other ranks wounded.

On the morning of the 3rd of November the Battalion moved to the valley

on the south-eastern outskirts of the town. The whole valley was

crowded with British troops and transport. Beersheba as a town appeared

to be of little value, but its importance as a stronghold on the flank

of the Turkish line was considerable. Water was obtained from the wells

which had been quickly repaired by the R.E.; the Turk having blown up

the winding gear before he left. In the town, prisoner of war compounds

were established, while a still larger compound for the natives and

Arabs of the surrounding district was made in the valley outside the

town.

The soil of the valley where there is some moisture is exceedingly

rich and is rudely cultivated by the natives, and in the tracks around

Beersheba the Bedouin find ample pasturage for their flocks and herds

which in the evening assemble around the wells as they did 3,000 years

ago. The desert of Beersheba is very beautiful in spring and early

summer when the surface is carpeted with herbage and flowers; but later

in the year it is parched and desolate in the extreme, not a tree

breaking the monotony of the landscape or the rays of the sun. It was

in the latter state when we arrived.

On the evening of the 3rd of November the Battalion moved again to

Bargut, some two miles or more north of the town of Beersheba, but

were not privileged to pass through the town; passing it on its

western outskirts. At Bargut a bivouac camp was erected, and the

Quartermaster’s Stores and transport sections moved with us. Officers

were allowed the benefit of their valises which had been reduced to 25

lb. in weight, and blankets were issued to the men.

Meals were soon prepared, and a day of complete rest away from the

filth of the Turkish trenches was thoroughly enjoyed by all.

At this time it had become apparent to the Higher Command that the

enemy had been able to anticipate our threat of enveloping his left

flank, by a concentration of his reserves on the high ground in the

neighbourhood of Khuweilfeh. The Corps Commander therefore decided

to throw our whole weight upon the centre of the Turkish defences

represented by the Kauwukah system and a series of works extending some

5,000 yards to the east, and at the same time occupying the enemy’s

left flank by the employment of the 53rd Division and mounted troops at

Khuweilfeh.

Accordingly the 60th Division moved over in the direction of Kauwukah

on the 4th of November, the Battalion moving to Wadi Welfare, a

distance of 7 or 8 miles as the crow flies. This was a most trying

march over sandy desert and the sand was not of that “golden” type

which one associates with the east when reading books, but was of a

dirty black variety, and our memories went back to that first dusty

march from Belah to Abu Sitta some months previously. Every one was

covered with black dust, and eyes and nostrils became unbearable. Water

was limited and the day’s supply had not been received before starting.

The water camels had returned to Beersheba, but here the supply was

insufficient, and they were re-directed to Abu Irgeig, which was about

7 miles in the direction of Gaza, and in quite a different direction to

that taken by the Brigade.

The ground over which we travelled was extremely hilly, and the

Battalion constantly descended into deep wadis and ascended over the

steep ridges for practically the whole of the last four miles. It was

getting dark, and the difficulties were tremendous, and credit is

due to those responsible that the various battalions of the Division

ever found their allotted areas, most of which were in the beds of

deep wadis. The Battalion halted about 10.0 p.m., and an outpost line

covering the Divisional front was taken up by the 181st Brigade. No

water, however, was obtainable. All we knew was that the camels had

gone back as far as Beersheba, and knowing the difficulties of the

march that we had encountered, the possibility of the camels arriving

that night appeared remote. However, shortly after midnight a small

voice was heard on the surrounding heights, “Who is down there?”

“2/15th,” we shouted. “Thank God,” uttered the small voice, “How the

devil do you get down there?” No one could say how we had got down into

this basin-like dip, in the darkness it appeared to be surrounded by

steep cliffs. The small voice was heard no more, but an hour afterwards

the swishing of the water in the “Fanatis” was heard approaching along

a branch wadi, and Lieutenant Gearing appeared, followed by his convoy

of water camels and their weary leaders. How this officer performed

the journey that night from Bargut to Beersheba and thence to Abu

Irgeig--where water was drawn--and eventually across the wilderness

to the Battalion, which was concealed in one of the many holes in the

ground, is beyond imagination. The water camels, with their officer and

his Company guides had dragged over a distance of at least 15 miles

in the dark. Even Gearing himself cannot explain; in fact, he never

attempted, and “Sparrow,” as our tiny water officer was called, simply

grinned and felt pleased. There were heroes in the battle of Beersheba,

but no one was so deservedly popular as Gearing that night. He had done

great things through sheer grit, where thousands would have failed (and

not without reason). Great was the relief on the arrival of the water

camels, and then our minds turned to the transport and Quartermaster’s

stores with its precious rations which had not yet arrived. However,

ere long the voice of Lieutenant Pearson (not a small one this time)

was heard, and we knew that the “gods” were with us. The route taken

by the Battalion had been impossible for wheeled transport, and it

had been diverted some four miles back on to a different track. Even

this second route was extremely difficult, but the transport section

“stuck to their guns,” and after a somewhat lengthy and tedious journey

had struck the Battalion. It was simply a matter of “striking,” too.

Maps were indistinct, and in the darkness every wadi is a replica of

its neighbour; signposts were badly needed in these parts. However,

daylight came, and this put a better complexion on the state of affairs.

Officers were called to Headquarters and given details of our next

attack which was to be against the centre of the Turkish line in

Palestine, at a place called Kauwukah. The rest of the day was spent

in reconnaissance of the ground. Landmarks were few, but all hoped for

the best, and compass bearings were taken. Final preparations were

made in the evening and rations were issued. Water again presented a

difficulty, as the wells at Abu Irgeig had run dry, but it was hoped

that the R.E. would open up a new source during the night.

CHAPTER XXXIV

KAUWUKAH AND RUSHDI

SYSTEMS--ATTACK--SHERIA--MUNTARET--HUJ--NEJILEH--AND TO GAZA VIA SHERIA

The position to be attacked was on the high ground at Khirbit Kauwukah,

just north of the Beersheeba-Gaza Railway and south of Sheria. This

was an extensive stretch of trenches about four miles long, which

faced south-west from near Samarra Bridge to Abu Heirira on the Wadi

Sheria. The left of this trench system was swung round forming a strong

defensive flank facing south-east, and it was against this flank that

the 60th Division was to make its attack. In front of our objectives

stretched an open plain for over a mile and, of course, formed an

excellent field of fire for the defenders.

The general plan of attack consisted of an enfilade assault from the

east to be started by the 74th Division on our right attacking and

rolling up the enemy’s works east of the actual Kauwukah System,

followed by our own Division which was to operate against the main

defences with one Brigade of the 10th Division on our left; each

Division being echeloned back from the right.

Careful arrangements were necessary with regard to the timing of the

advance of each Division in order to safeguard the possibility of

the troops of the 60th and 10th Divisions being enfiladed from the

enemy’s works to be attacked by the 74th Division before the latter had

accounted for them.

By the flanking attack it was hoped that the 10th Division on our left

would reach the Abu Heirira Redoubt, a strongly-fortified mound on the

edge of the Wadi Sheria. In the 179th Brigade the Westminsters and

Kensingtons were to form the attacking Battalions and the Civil Service

were to be in support; the Brigade Reserve being the London Scottish.

A second Brigade of the Division, the 180th Brigade with the London

Irish (21/8th) and the St. Pancras (2/19th) Battalions as attacking

Battalions were to push forward on our right. The 181st Brigade, of

Hill 1,070 fame, being the Divisional Reserve. After the first lines of

the enemy’s works had been captured, it was intended that the 2/15th

and the 2/19th Battalions should continue the advance and take the rest

of the Kauwukah System in enfilade as far as the Rushdi System which

adjoined just on the banks of the Wadi Sheria; while the Battalions of

the 10th Division on our left should concentrate their energies on the

strong redoubt at Abu Heirira, and thus complete the capture of the

Turkish positions from the east as far as the Wadi Sheria.

During the night of the 5/6th of November, 1917, the Battalion moved

from the Wadi Welfare to its position of assembly preparatory to the

opening of the action by the 74th Division on our right at 5.0 a.m. The

position of assembly was some two miles south-east of the left flank of

the Kauwukah System, and under cover of the undulating ground we waited

for the result of the 74th Divisional attack. One thing which worried

us, however, was the fact that our water supply had not yet reached us;

the camels which had left for Abu Irgeig on the previous evening had

not been heard of since. Just as every one gave up hope Gearing and his

camels appeared over the crest in front. Here was another adventure

of our camel officer. Finding no water at Abu Irgeig, and learning

that some was obtainable nearer Beersheba, Gearing trudged back, got

the water, and then made a “bee-line” for the Kauwukah System along

the Beersheba-Gaza Railway line. True, the route was well defined on

the map, but when one thinks of the journey back towards Beersheba

from Abu Irgeig wells is a matter of about eight miles, and after that

a night march of ten miles towards Kauwukah on the return, it was a

grand performance and an exhibition of determination for which Gearing

deserved praise. He had apparently arrived at the position of assembly

just previous to the Battalion, and seeing no Battalion he had pushed

on towards the Turks, and when dawn came, seeing nothing in front of

him, decided to return, and luckily met us at the appointed place.

Water was quickly issued, and every one was relieved for at least 24

hours.

Being in reserve is always a weary job and always one of anxiety; if

all goes well in front it is easy; but should things go all wrong it is

horrible. During the early morning the 74th Division had gained their

objectives, and by 8.0 a.m. it was decided to commence operations on

our Divisional front. An artillery bombardment of the Turkish trenches

was commenced, and the Battalions deployed for the attack. However,

from observation it was seen that much of the strong barbed-wire

entanglements in front of the Turkish lines was still uncut, and it

was decided that two batteries of R.F.A. should go forward and cut the

wire at point blank range. By this time the Westminsters on our direct

front had advanced to the ridge overlooking the plain in front of the

enemy’s trenches, and were suffering many casualties. Suddenly, in rear

of our Battalion large clouds of dust were seen, and from these clouds

came galloping two batteries of artillery. On they galloped through the

extended lines of the Battalion which lay in support near the railway

bridge at Samarra, and over the ridge in front until they gained the

open plain. Here they unlimbered their guns and opened a rapid rate

of fire on the Turkish lines. The battery horses at once returned

back over the ridge for cover from the heavy shower of shrapnel which

was coming from the enemy gunners. The teams returned at the gallop,

but many horses were riderless and teams were often dragging one of

their number either dead or wounded. In front of the ridge, in full

view of the enemy, the two batteries continued to pour fire on the

Turkish entanglements. They were paying for their gallantry, and many

wounded artillery officers and men crawled back over the ridge to

receive medical attention at the advanced dressing station that had

been erected at Samarra Bridge, under cover of the embankment. Only

a few men finally remained with the guns, and under the command of

a corporal--who afterwards received the D.C.M.--they continued to

successfully carry out the cutting of the wire. The whole incident

was an inspiration to the infantry, and the gallantry of our brothers

in the gunners encouraged us in our attack, which commenced to push

forward about midday. The Battalion followed closely on the heels of

the Westminsters, with “D” Company leading. Extended order with lines

about 70 yards intervals in depth was the formation adopted. Once over

the ridge the Battalion came under heavy machine-gun fire and also a

shrapnel barrage. But just ahead we could see the Westminsters pushing

on towards the trench line which was strongly garrisoned, and with a

final rush at 1.0 p.m. they captured their objective. The Battalions on

their flanks had also succeeded, and the first lines were won. Without

a moment’s delay we, together with the 2/19th on our right, pursued

the enemy and captured many lines of trenches without a great deal

of opposition. Occasionally a machine-gun would hold us up for a few

minutes, but it was soon out-flanked and the line advanced again. All

resistance was broken down and the garrisons killed or put to flight.

Not until the whole of the Kauwukah and Rushdi systems were in British

hands did the Battalion halt, and then finally took up a position

overlooking the Wadi Sheria about 2.0 p.m. in the afternoon.

A defensive line in the vacated trenches was made, and in the distance

across the valley of the wadi columns of Turks with their transport

could be seen hurrying to get out of range of our artillery fire. The

whole attack had been successful and our casualties were comparatively

light. Great losses had been inflicted on the enemy, and many prisoners

were captured. The comparative lightness of our casualties was

probably largely due to wide extensions and also to the élan displayed

by all ranks who, once they got in close touch with the enemy, pursued

him relentlessly, giving him no time to develop counter-attacks or

occupy a fresh line of resistance.

The flanking attack of the 60th Division had swept forward over the

trenches and the 10th Division on our left altered their direction

slightly and concentrated on the Heirira Redoubt, which consisted of

a large mound literally honeycombed with trenches and machine-gun

emplacements. On the Battalion front things soon quieted down, but

on the right flank of the Division the Turk had concentrated and was

strongly resisting the British advance towards Sheria Railway Station.

At 3.30 p.m. on the 6th of November orders were received from the XXth

Corps to establish a strong bridgehead across the Wadi Sheria in order

to secure the water supply; the 10th Division being ordered to relieve

the 60th Division in the captured works.

Accordingly the 180th and 181st Brigades were ordered to advance and

form a bridgehead north of Sheria in order to attain that object, and

were supported by the Divisional artillery, the 179th Brigade remaining

in Divisional Reserve. The 74th Division were ordered to operate on our

right, with their left resting on Khirbit Barrata. At 5.30 p.m. one

Company from the 180th Brigade had captured Sheria Railway Station,

securing some prisoners and two machine-guns, while two Battalions

from each Brigade prepared to cross the Wadi Sheria and occupy Tel el

Sheria, the high ground north of the town.

Before evacuating Sheria Station, however, the enemy had succeeded in

firing a large ammunition dump south of the station which commenced

to explode just previous to the launching of the attack. The

conflagration raged for some hours, and so illuminated the country in

the vicinity that further progress was rendered temporarily impossible.

Nevertheless, the ground over which the attack was to be made was

carefully reconnoitred, and at 3.30 a.m. on the 7th the attack was

launched by the 2/17th and 2/20th Battalions of the 180th Brigade west

of the Railway, and the 181st Brigade was represented by the 2/22nd and

2/23rd Battalions east of the railway.

The enemy offered a determined resistance, but by 4.30 a.m. our

objectives were gained. During this part of the day’s operations our

captures included 4 field guns, 4 machine-guns and over 150 prisoners.

The Turks were disinclined to accept their defeat without further

efforts, and at 9.25 a.m. developed a strong counter attack against the

line now held by the 180th Brigade, but this was effectively broken up

by concentrated machine-gun, Lewis gun and rifle fire, assisted by the

supporting artillery, with great loss to the enemy.

During the foregoing operations the 2/15th Battalion in common with

the remainder of the 179th Brigade had handed over their captures in

the Kauwukah and Rushdi systems to the 10th Division and were brought

back a few miles and remained for the night of the 6/7th of November in

reserve near Sammara Bridge. Little rest, however, was possible, as the

weather was extremely cold. The next morning was spent in reorganising

after the previous day’s attack, and in the early afternoon we were

ordered to move to the Wadi Sheria.

About 4 p.m. on the 7th the Battalion, with the London Scottish on its

left, moved forward from a ridge on the eastern side of the valley of

the Wadi, “B” Company under Captain Lewis leading. While moving across

the open we were heavily shelled. After crossing the Wadi, however, the

advance was pressed, and after considerable opposition and stubborn

fighting the enemy was driven back and we established an outpost line

on the high ground west of the Wadi. During this advance “B” Company,

as advance guard, had engaged a considerable force of Turks, but led

by the personal dash of their Company Commander, they pushed forward

and inflicted severe losses on the enemy. The Battalion soon followed

up and passed over a large Turkish camp where “B” Company had captured

an anti-aircraft gun, and the night was spent in digging in. Patrols

pushed forward, but no sign of the Turk was found. Taking up this

line ended the second phase of our operations in Palestine. Beersheba

and Sheria had fallen under the pressure of the 60th Division. The

following summary from Divisional Headquarters on the attacks on

Kauwukah and Sheria defences will no doubt be interesting.

“The total prisoners at the end of this stage amounted to

31 officers and 521 men. During the whole of the day the

Division was engaged in severe local fighting, while at

times the hostile shell fire, especially in the afternoon,

was particularly troublesome, the Turkish command obviously

realising the importance of denying us access to the water

supply in the Wadi Sheria. It afterwards transpired from

prisoners’ statements that picked troops had been hastily

formed into composite units and entrusted with the defence of

the position. The large number of enemy regiments represented

among the prisoners lent colour to these assertions, the

opposing commanders doubtless fully realising the vital

importance of delaying our advance at this point in order

subsequently to secure the exposed flank of the retreating Gaza

garrison.”

On the following morning, the 8th of November, the situation had

sufficiently cleared for an advance to be made upon Huj, a few miles

north-east of Gaza, where it was thought there would be an efficient

water supply. Transport and water camels had joined the Battalion, and

we were complete to move off about 7 a.m. Cavalry patrols were sent

forward to gain touch with the enemy, who was retiring with all speed.

The ground was undulating grassland with an occasional outcrop of

sandy desert, and movement was fairly easy. The 179th Brigade formed

the advance guard of the Division, having the 2/15th Civil Service and

2/14th London Scottish as its leading Battalions and covering a wide

front. Instructions were issued to advance towards the high ground

near Khirbit Muntaret, which was known to be occupied by the enemy.

For several hours under glorious weather conditions the Brigade pushed

forward across the undulating country and found no signs of the enemy

except his numerous dumps which he had left hurriedly behind him. About

10 a.m. cavalry patrols brought in information to the effect that

the enemy was strongly entrenched on the high ground on the north of

the village of Muntaret, and the Battalion was deployed for attack.

There was a considerable force of Turks near Muntaret and they were

well supported by artillery. The Battalion, having “C” Company under

Captain Wills for their advanced guard, opened out into irregular

artillery formation or, in other words, “blobs” of Platoons at 150

yards interval. The approach to Muntaret was over an open stretch of

country, and while going over the ground the Battalion came under

very heavy artillery fire, and suffered considerable casualties. “C”

Company soon opened out into extended order and advanced to the bottom

of Muntaret Hill which was steep and, except for a small ravine a few

feet deep, offered little cover. In spite of the machine-gun and rifle

fire from the trenches, “C” Company crept up the hill for the final

assault, and within a few hundred yards of the enemy the men took

off their packs and prepared for their final charge. Led by Captain

Wills, they captured the position (thus forestalling the cavalry,

whose objective it had been), while the London Scottish on their left

made a flank attack on the position at the same time. The rest of the

Battalion soon followed on to the ridge, having also dumped their packs

at the foot of the hill. However, the Turkish artillery continued to

heavily bombard the captured position, and it was necessary to dig in

and consolidate. Further advance was impossible across the plain west

of Muntaret, and any attempt to cross the plain would mean considerable

casualties from shell fire. The G.-O.-C. Division, Major-General Shea,

came up and ordered the Worcester and Warwick Yeomanry to charge the

Turkish batteries which were holding up our advance. None of us had had

the fortune to see the Balaclava Charge in the Crimean War, but it was

our privilege to see a similar type of gallantry, and I insert here an

account from a newspaper cutting of the charge.

“On November the 8th the Londoners while occupying a ridge less

than two miles from the enemy lines, came under extremely heavy

gun fire. Meanwhile the Yeomanry had come up. The Londoners’

commander, who had seen the whole enemy’s position and their

guns, ordered the Yeomanry to charge them. There were 10 troops

of Worcester and Warwick Yeomanry, commanded by a Colonel,

Master of Hounds.

“He and his men swept over the ridge in successive lines about

2,000 yards from the enemy, raced down the slope across the

flat, partly obscured by a mound in front. Over this rise

the yeomen spurred their chargers, took the final rise at a

terrific pace, the ranks somewhat thinned by gun, machine-gun

and rifle fire, which the enemy switched off the Londoners soon

after trails of dust told of advancing cavalry.

“The cavalry’s target was not so much the infantry as the guns.

Giving full-throated cheers they went straight for the field

and heavy pieces. There were 12 guns in action against these

valiant boys from the Shires--nine German-made field guns and

three 5·9 howitzers. The field guns banged as fast as the

Austrian and German gun crews could load them, but every enemy

artillery man was sabred by his piece. The Londoners heard the

fire of all the guns stop dead almost at the same moment.”

After witnessing this magnificent feat of arms and benefiting by

the resulting “cease fire” from the Turkish guns, a hasty meal was

taken and a short halt was made. Later on in the afternoon under the

protection of the London Scottish as advanced guard, the Brigade

pushed forward in the direction of Huj. The 2/14th breasted the high

ground at Tor Dimrah, near Huj, about 4.50 p.m. in the evening of the

8th of November, and were soon followed by the rest of the Brigade.

It will thus be seen that between 3 a.m. on the 6th of November and

4.50 p.m. on the 8th, the Division marched 23½ miles, in the course of

which advance the Kauwukah and Rushdi systems of defensive works were

captured, the bridgehead at Sheria stormed, a determined counter attack

repulsed, and the Turkish rearguard driven from Muntaret to beyond Huj,

entailing attacks upon three defensive positions on the way.

The total captures by the Division in the whole operations amounted to

12 guns, 26 machine-guns, 51 officers and 907 other ranks.

The following newspaper extract, I think, might be included here

without any shadow of a boast, and summarises our doings from the

commencement of the Palestine campaign.

“The achievements of the London Territorials, who had the

hardest part to do in the thrust from our right flank, will

rank in the deeds of the war. A distinguished officer of my

acquaintance, who has seen nearly three years of war in France

and watched every movement of the London County Territorials

here, told me that he could not speak of these warriors without

a lump rising in his throat. This is his considered judgment:--

“‘These Cockneys are the best men in the world. Their spirits

are simply wonderful. I don’t think any division ever went into

a big show with higher morale. After three years of war it was

refreshing to hear the men’s earnestly expressed desire to get

into action again. These grand fellows went forward with the

full bloom upon them. There never was any hesitation. Their

discipline was absolutely perfect, and their physique, and

courage alike magnificent. Their valour was beyond words. The

Cockney makes the perfect soldier.’”

In eight days the men marched 66 miles and fought a number of hot

actions. The march may not seem long, but Palestine is not Salisbury

Plain.

On reaching Tor Dimrah near Huj on the evening of the 8th of November,

the Battalion was bivouacked on the grassy slopes and waited for water

and rations to be brought up from Sheria. During the evening a large

British bombing squadron of some 30 planes flew over our heads and

no doubt dropped their missiles with great effect on the columns of

retreating Turks fleeing northwards.

Late at night water and rations arrived and these, together with

cigarettes made from dried tea leaves, helped every one to retire for

the night satisfied with the day’s work.

For the next two days we remained here and the Battalion was

reorganised; transport came up from Sheria and fatigue parties were

sent back to Muntaret for the packs which we had dumped just before

the attack; while others had been left as far back as Sheria by “C”

Company who it will be remembered started off from the Sheria Wadi

as an advance guard. Unfortunately the water supply at Huj was not

so promising as expected and the damage done to the wells by the

retreating Turk did not help matters. Horses and mules were sent out in

all directions without finding a sufficient supply and lack of water

became so acute that the Artillery men near by sacrificed their own

limited supply for their horses. The difficulty of our own transport

is best described by the following letter from Lieutenant Pearson, our

transport officer at the time:

“On one occasion we left the lines at 5.30 a.m. with the

animals to go about 10 miles for water, and had to be back

ready to move off at 2.30 p.m. When we arrived at the given

place there were several thousands of Australian Cavalry

horses, artillery horses, and several infantry units, animals

with only one 30-foot long portable trough. The Australians’

horses had not had any water for over 36 hours, so you can

imagine there was no system or order, the horses could not be

held back. We had to return without watering, and arrived back

at 2 p.m. In the meantime, the Battalion had received further

orders to the effect that they would not move until next day.

After feeding the animals, and after the men had had a snack,

we were told there was a well near at hand. We went in search

and found it was about 60 feet deep and had to pull up a

bucketful at a time by means of a long rope; anyway, we arrived

back at 1.30 a.m. The men and animals only having had one meal

at midday between 5.30 a.m. and 1.30 a.m. the next day. We

moved off at 8.30 a.m. the same morning.”

The foregoing incident actually occurred while we were at Tor Dimrah on

November 9th, 1917.

From the heights at Tor Dimrah the result of our recent fighting could

be well appreciated. A few miles to the south-west could be seen the

town of Gaza, the scene of heavy fighting some months previously, while

to the west stretched the coastal plain which ran up country as far as

Jaffa. Frontal attacks on Gaza had proved unsuccessful earlier in the

year, and therefore General Allenby decided to attack from a flank. The

line of attack commenced at Beersheba and was made in a north-westerly

direction, rolling up the Turkish line from the east, and hoping at the

same time to reach the north of Gaza in time to cut off the garrison.

While this flank movement was in progress local frontal raids on Gaza

were made under heavy artillery bombardments from both land and sea.

However, the Turkish leaders were able to thwart the full intention of

the scheme and by their strong resistance, by powerful flank guards

at Kauwukah, Sheria and Muntaret, were enabled to give time for their

troops at Gaza to retire north with minimum losses. However, as soon

as the Gaza front gave way, the XXIst Corps under our old Divisional

Commander, General E. S. Bulfin, relentlessly pursued the Turks as far

as Jaffa.

Except for the 53rd Division, our own Corps, the XXth, was withdrawn

from the pursuit and, in order to assist the advance, much of our corps

transport was lent to the XXIst Corps. The 53rd Division just mentioned

had been kept at Khuweilfeh just north of Beersheba since the beginning

of the offensive, and had fought manfully against repeated attacks and

thereby protected the right flank of our advance across Palestine.

On the 11th of November the Battalion moved a few miles north-east

to the Wadi Jemmemiah where the whole of the surrounding country was

covered with well planned trenches and all the valleys covered with

machine-gun emplacements; but the numerous ammunition dumps round

about signified how hastily the Turk had withdrawn without making a

strong resistance. Only a day was spent here, and on the 13th we moved

still farther north to Nejilah; a pleasant spot after the filth and

dust which existed around Jemmeniah. The route was lined with large

collections of war material which had been left by the retreating Turk

and everywhere was desolate and uninviting. Not until a mile or so

from Nejilah did the scenery improve and then a stretch of undulating

grassland presented itself; a restful change for our tired eyes after

a lengthy stay on the glaring yellow desert. A few flocks of sheep

strayed over the pastureland and the quaintly dressed shepherds, at

last, presented to us a fair representation of Biblical Palestine as we

had imagined it in our youth. This was the first clean, healthy spot,

free from sand and the filth which the Turks always left behind them,

we had struck since our arrival at Belah.

For three days the Battalion remained here on these grassy hill-sides

overlooking a wide plain of pasture land to the north. Just near the

camping ground a stream of crystal clear water flowed and bathing

parades were again indulged in. To give the Britisher his due, he does

love cleanliness and even through the recent advance most of the men

had used a portion of their limited ration for purposes of shaving,

although a proper wash was out of the question. No parades were ordered

and a restful time was spent at Nejilah. However, difficulties arose

with regard to supplies; much of our corps transport having been lent

to the other corps pursuing the enemy. Consequently the Battalion was

ordered to return to Sheria.

As I have already said the Turk revelled in filth and pollution, and

no better illustration could be seen than the Sheria area where he had

apparently had a large base camp since the early days of the war. For

miles around Sheria the place literally stank and flies were present in

their millions. The ground was strewn with dead Turks, camels, horses

and mules, and the presence of these carcasses did not improve the

polluted atmosphere. However, the desert was expansive and camps were

arranged as far from this debris as possible.

While we had been fighting during the past few weeks miracles had been

performed by the A.S.C. and R.E. The former corps had worked well and

supply dumps had been advanced with rapidity; camel and horse transport

working in conjunction with the railways in the captured area. The

latter corps had repaired the Turkish railways and used the captured

rolling stock to good purpose; other sections of R.E.’s had exploited

the wells and obtained good supplies of water in the Wadi Sheria.

November the 17th, just after the arrival in the Sheria area, was known

as “Parcel Day”: it was the first post since our departure from our

desert line on the Wadi Ghuzze. Not only letters arrived but huge bags

of parcels; nearly every man received a parcel. The owners of many,

however, were not to be found; some had given their lives for their

country while others had been sent to base hospitals either wounded

or sick. But each platoon or mess made short work of these and divided

the spoil; it was an unwritten law and not stealing. Luxuries were

plentiful and hundreds of tea parties and dinner parties were held that

evening. Every unit, however, has its “grousers,” not that they mean

any harm, but it is their privilege as British Tommies. They could

not legitimately grouse this night with all the good things around so

they turned their morbid thoughts to treks and predicted a move on the

morrow, when every one would be laden with luxuries. Their prophecies

came true and the following morning camp was struck and the Battalion

marched towards Gaza as far as Muntaret. On the 19th of November the

march was resumed to the outskirts of the town of Gaza. The day’s

march was not a great distance but the downpour of heavy rain in the

evening drenched all. This was the commencement of the rainy season in

Palestine.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE MARCH FROM GAZA UP COUNTRY--ENAB--THE CAPTURE OF

JERUSALEM--TEL-EL-FUL--BIREH.

At Gaza the Battalion bivouacked just to the north of the town. “Town”

was perhaps a complimentary term for Gaza at that time, for it was in

a deplorable state. The proud town of the Philistines and the scene

of Samson’s deathly triumph had been most thoroughly treated to every

type of missile known to the British forces, from rifle bullet to the

12-inch naval projectile, and there was ample evidence of the efficacy

of that treatment. Scarcely a whole wall remained, big gun emplacements

built of concrete and iron rails, though skilfully hidden, had been

utterly destroyed and most of the trenches flattened out. Before these

had stood formidable obstacles in the shape of cactus hedges, which

had proved themselves more efficient than any barbed wire, but what

remained of these was liberally sprinkled with shrapnel holes. In

short, Gaza had been made as unhealthy as it was possible for us to

have made it, and at last the Turk had been made to quit, though not

without a struggle.

Through the centre of the town a clearing had been made and the

broad-gauge railway was being rapidly advanced. The methods of the R.E.

railway construction companies are well worth a short description.

They were the essence of efficiency. First the R.E. officer with a few

satellites carrying the necessary instruments would prospect and decide

the direction of the line, and he was quickly followed by a large gang

of the Egyptian Labour Corps who, armed with a tool similar to an

adze, but without that instrument’s sharp edge, and a bag similar to

a carpenter’s, would immediately set to work to clear the ground and

make the necessary cutting or embankment. The sight of some hundreds

of these natives swarming over the position was exactly like an

overturned ant-hill. Every one seemed to run in different directions,

and to the uninitiated confusion appeared to reign supreme, but the

work was completed at a pace which would have made a “ca’canny” trade

union delegate weep with anguish. When the necessary alteration to the

landscape had been effected more labourers would appear, each carrying

a huge railway sleeper which was dumped roughly in position, later to

be arranged properly and levelled by soldier platelayers. This work was

no sooner completed than lengths of rail were dumped upon and quickly

secured to the sleepers by means of fish-spikes. The rails were then

trimmed, levelled and bolted together and very shortly afterwards

were being used by the construction train, which with its supply of

material, could thus closely follow the quickly moving construction

gangs. The “permanent” way thus made could not, it is true, attempt

to rival that to which we were accustomed, but an adequate supply of

transport was absolutely necessary for the success of the E.E.F. at

that time, and in those days no branch of the Services worked more

quickly or efficiently than the railway construction companies to

maintain the supply line.

After a short rest at Gaza we commenced our march northwards on the

19th of November, 1917. Our actual destination was unknown, but the

“lying jade” had been busy and the magical word “Jerusalem” was ever

on her lips. Private soldiers or humble subalterns do not presume to

understand the ways of an Army Commander. They have, in the famous game

of war, not even the status of a pawn, but nevertheless are for ever

weighing the pros and cons of each and every movement they are required

to make and thus if anyone had, but two short months ago, been rash

enough to suggest that Beersheba was the opening move of a game that

was to end in the capture of the Holy City, they would have suggested

that the unfortunate one had been disobeying divisional orders and by

not wearing his helmet had caught a touch of the sun. But the situation

had rapidly changed since the dreary days of the Gambli defences, and

Jerusalem was in fact well within our reach. True it was that our grip

had not been closed upon it, but the days of the Turk in the home of

Christianity were for ever numbered.

Rain had fallen heavily for a short time during our stay at Gaza and

though its advent had been a welcome change we later had cause to

regret the hot sunny days of the Sinai Desert. The flat coastal plain

which runs north from Gaza has been cultivated land ever since Biblical

times, and is the most fertile spot in the whole of Palestine, and in

consequence the most thickly populated, though the total number in

the whole land, apart from the cities such as Gaza, Jaffa, Ludd and

Jerusalem, would disgrace a small English county. A plentiful crop of

barley which had been grown had been recently cut; indeed rumour had it

that a famous “Scotch” whisky firm had nearly failed owing to the lack

of supplies from Palestine! The course of our march was set through

fields of stubble. When it was hot and dry, there arose stifling clouds

of dust, and when wet the sticky nature of the ground could even bring

a “caterpillar tractor” to a standstill. The change, however, from

endless sand was at first welcome and we found great delight in passing

through the native villages. These were amazing collections of mud

huts, windows were unknown and of sanitary arrangements there were

none; yet the inhabitants though inexpressibly dirty seemed quite happy

and contented with their lot. When opportunity arose we supplemented

our meagre rations by purchasing eggs, figs, nuts and oranges. The

last named were most welcome. We had seen no vegetables for months and

the supply of fruit undoubtedly did much to dispel the ill effects of

this enforced denial of “greens.” The number to be obtained for one

Egyptian piastre (2½d. English) varied, but the native drove a hard

bargain if you failed to obtain at least six magnificent Jaffa oranges

for that small sum. Many indeed did show in their dealings with us

characteristics of the descendants of the twelve tribes with which we

are all familiar, but at least one of them met his match. One famous

youth, noticing that a coloured Egyptian bank note had a remarkable

purchasing power, was smitten with a brilliant idea. Hurriedly quitting

the village market place he produced a gaudy label from a tin of jam

and succeeding in persuading a hoary-headed old extortioner to part

with the whole of his stock of oranges on the understanding that the

aforesaid label was worth untold gold. That youth of course had no

right to be a private soldier “foot-slogging” through the Holy Land; he

had missed his vocation, which was that of a company promoter in the

aeroplane or munition line at home. So many oranges were eaten on that

march that, later on, drafts marching up from Gaza were known to have

followed this trail of orange peel and found their way across Palestine

to Jerusalem.

Marching is a thirsty business in any country and when for the most

part the march is made enveloped in clouds of dust, it becomes even a

still thirstier business. We had had long training in that fine art of

marching from dawn to dusk without having recourse to the water-bottle,

and that training stood us in good stead in those November days. The

supply of water was an ever-present anxiety with the higher command,

and in spite of the exploration of wells by the Royal Engineers, we

were only allowed the meagre amount of one water-bottle full per man

per diem, and this had to be carefully husbanded if the owner desired

to partake of tea ration at the end of the day. He who could not

produce a mugful of water could not draw a mugful of tea, and this was

strictly adhered to.

It was our great good fortune during the whole campaign never to

miss our daily supply of water, and for that great credit is due to

Lieutenant Gearing, who was in charge of the water camels. He had an

uncanny knack of finding his way to us over trackless unknown country,

and wherever we bivouacked for the night he was sure to arrive very

shortly afterwards with his precious convoy of water camels. His

trials cannot here be recorded and their recital on paper would never

convey an adequate impression of his difficulties, and yet no one in

the Battalion ever did better work. Such deeds are not rewarded with

decorations, but perhaps this tardy recognition of his work will in

some way convey to him our appreciation of his excellent work.

Water was not the only difficulty. Rations were very short. We had

been for weeks on what the A.S.C. called “mobile” rations, which was

the official name for four biscuits, one tin of bully beef and a small

ration of tea and sugar for each man every twenty-four hours. This was

occasionally supplemented by jam, but even then it was a wearisome

diet. “Smokes” became very scarce and the old substitute of dried

tea-leaves was often in use. Fuel was conspicuous by its absence, as

also were mails.

However we did not grumble too much when we realised the difficulties

of transport. The railway embankment built over the Wadi Ghuzze had

been twice swept away by floods and all rations, etc., had to be

brought by motor lorry from Gaza, and as there were no roads it was

a trying experience for the A.S.C., particularly as two of the Motor

Transport companies had been but recently formed and rushed up from

the Base and immediately given the task of supplying a rapidly moving

Division over 50-60 miles of trackless country.

In spite of all we pushed on through Beit Hanun, Deir Siniid, Mejdel,

Mesmeyiah, and Junction Station until about the 24th of November when

at Latrun we set foot on the first metalled road we had seen since

leaving Kantara. Latrun is about midway between Jaffa and Jerusalem

and a few miles to the north-east the road enters the Judean Hills at

Bab-el-Wad, and after negotiating two ranges of hills approximately

2,500 feet high it reaches Jerusalem which is set at the top of a third

and higher cluster of hills.

The effect of marching on a hard road after months of sand and soft

soil was soon felt and our feet and footwear quickly began to show

signs of wear. Boots, the leather of which had perished through

exposure and lack of grease, were soon worn through and even the

oldest and best of soldiers suffered from sore feet. The road itself

though labelled “metalled” was not in good condition. The Turk was

ever notorious for the bad state in which he kept his communications

and this one was no exception to the rule. It had not been repaired

since the visit of the Kaiser many years before, and the defects

were soon aggravated by the passage of much transport. It was an

exhausting climb and it lasted for a long time. The road was bounded

on the one side for the most part by a precipice and on the other by

the steep hillside, except for a few places where it ran through deep

cuttings, and one could speculate on the chances of success of any

troops attempting to force such a road against the opposition of a

few well-armed British troops and the result of the speculations was

distinctly unfavourable to the attackers. Yet the Turk had been hurried

from hill to hill with little loss to our troops. As we toiled upwards

we momentarily expected to get our first view of the Holy City. We

knew definitely by that time that such was our objective and with the

words of Holy Writ in our minds--“a city that is set on a hill cannot

be hid,” we eagerly awaited the vision. That moment was however denied

us for many a day, and it is a matter of conjuncture whether in any of

our minds we felt satisfied when that view was obtained. It is rather

ironical, but nevertheless a fact, that the first portion of Jerusalem

we saw was of German origin--the tall tower of the Kaiser’s palace on

the Mount of Olives.

[Illustration: _Crown copyright--by permission Imperial War Museum._

ROAD TO JERUSALEM NEAR BAB-EL-WAD.]

[Illustration: _Crown copyright--by permission Imperial War Museum._

JEBEL KURUNTUL (MOUNT OF TEMPTATION) AND JERICHO.

Occupied by London Troops February 2nd, 1918. The traditional scene of

Christ’s Temptation.

_To face page 314._]

We eventually reached the crest of the first range of hills at Enab,

and descending into the valley on the opposite side we entered an area

which in comparison with the deadly wastes left miles behind seemed

like paradise. The hill sides were pleasantly wooded, the road was

good, fuel and water were in abundance and a little monastery was

discovered to possess a stock of most excellent wine made from the

fruit of the vines for the cultivation of which the hillsides were

terraced. We remained near Enab for some days and enjoyed life. One

company was unlucky and was sent up to relieve a post of the 75th

Division which had been sorely tried in holding what they had gallantly

won but the remainder of the Battalion enjoyed a well earned rest.

The troops were in great need of it, but the animals were in a much

worse condition. Owing to the difficulties of maintaining supplies the

transport animals had for nearly a month been on half rations and had

done a tremendous amount of very hard work. They were tired and worn

and in fact were so hungry that the steady diminution of the size of

the tail boards of the limber and the amount of leather harness eaten

by the animals caused the transport officer (Lieutenant Pearson) many

anxious moments.

The remaining brigades of the Division moved up behind us and the

Division took over the right of the line from Soba through Kushil, Nebi

Samwil to Beit Izza. Nebi Samwil, so called by the reason of its being

the traditional burying place of Samuel, was a distinct thorn in the

side of the Turks.

This high hill overlooked Jersualem and threatened the road to the

north from that city and our presence there was much resented by the

Turks. They made strenuous endeavours to recapture the hill but all

their efforts failed. When the 180th Brigade took over the hill there

was on the top of it a splendid mosque with a graceful minaret. But

Boche gunners with the Turk were no better in their respect for things

religious than their brethren in France and it was not long before the

minaret and mosque were utterly destroyed by a concentrated bombardment

of heavy metal.

The final preparations for the attack on Jerusalem having been

completed, the 74th Division which had by this time come up in rear

took over Nebi Samwil from the 180th Brigade and we concentrated near

Soba. The 179th Brigade were to attack the left of the Turkish position

near Ain Karim, and if possible effect a junction with the 53rd

Division, which was struggling up the Hebron road. The 180th Brigade

were to attack up the main Jaffa-Jerusalem road through Kolonieh and

Lifta while the 181st Brigade were in reserve.

On the night 7/8th December we advanced from Soba, crossed the Wadi

Surar and at 3.30 a.m. on the 8th of December the Brigade attacked

the high ground overlooking the Wadi Surar and south of Ain Karim and

were speedily successful. This operation was a difficult one and its

success was essential to the main operation. The whole brigade with

mountain batteries descended the precipitous hillside in single file.

It was a wretched night with no glimmer of moonlight to assist us and

the rain fell heavily. The whole route was fraught with much danger

to life and limb, but was negociated without a casualty. The main

attack was delivered by the other regiments in the Brigade but we were

called upon to assist. “C” Company who had taken the Jura Heights and

were subjected to three determined counter attacks, the last two of

which “C” Company helped to break up, were sent to the help of the

Kensingtons.

Meanwhile Captain Leech, our medical officer, hearing that our sister

Battalion had sustained over a hundred casualties, came up under heavy

fire from two machine guns which were still holding out in a building

of Ain Karim in our rear. He and our stretcher bearers, particularly

Privates Davey and Eels, rendered most gallant service to our own and

the Kensington wounded for which, and for their timely assistance, “C”

Company earned the grateful thanks of that regiment’s C.O. By 4.0 a.m.

all objectives had been gained and one hour later the main attack up

the Lifta road commenced. Much stubborn resistance was met with, as

the Turk was well dug in and the progress of the attack was retarded

by the fact that our help was not forthcoming as had been expected.

This was not our fault. We had hoped to effect a junction with the

53rd Division, and then advance together, but the 53rd were by then

many miles away fighting hard to come to our assistance. The resistance

they met with delayed them and we in consequence were subjected to much

hostile artillery fire from our right flank and unable to push forward.

The weather was very bad, a high and bitterly cold wind and torrential

rains made conditions extremely uncomfortable. We were clad only in

tropical kit, had been exposed to the elements on hills nearly 3,000

feet high for over twenty-four hours and were by no means in a happy

frame of mind. The Turk was also making himself extremely objectionable

and we were supplied with many gifts in the shape of shells. Our

opinions of Jerusalem at that time are not fit to be recorded here, and

they did not change for many a long day. Near Lifta the Turk was making

strenuous efforts to keep us out, but by 3.30 p.m. he was dislodged by

a gallant bayonet attack, and Lifta was occupied at dusk. We pushed on

to the outskirts of Jerusalem and remained in battle outposts.

That night pandemonium reigned in the Holy City. The Turk was

evacuating as quickly as possible, so quickly that when a patrol of the

180th Brigade advanced from Lifta in the early morning of the 9th of

December it was met by the “Mayor” who proffered the surrender of the

city. Major-General Shea was instructed to accept it and did so at 1.0

p.m., and Jerusalem passed for ever out of the dominion of the Turks.

We were billeted that night in an empty school in a garden named

“Abraham’s Vineyard,” and next day moving out to the north took up an

outpost line at Shafat on the Jerusalem-Nablous (Shechem) road where

we remained till the 15th of December when we returned to billets in

Jerusalem, in the school in “Abraham’s Vineyard.” Jerusalem was the

first town worthy of the name that we had seen since leaving Ismailia

and to many the prospects held out when viewed from afar off was not

fulfilled on closer inspection. The weather was cold and wet, but

we made light of such minor discomforts, being so overcome with the

novelty of being in Jerusalem. The idea seemed so fantastic. This

ancient city which for centuries had been a bone of contention between

East and West was at last in Christian hands and withal in the hands

of the London Division! True it is that our Welsh friends of the 53rd

Division had lent a very helping hand by struggling up the Hebron

road, but nevertheless it was to the London Division that credit was

due for the releasing of this home of Christianity from the hands of

its enemies. Yet withal it was difficult to arouse any real sentiment

concerning this famous city. It was inexpressibly dirty, the people

comprised all the nations and races known in Biblical times and since,

and they like the city were very dirty. Of sanitation there appeared

to be no sign and outside the Jaffa Gate the main water cistern, which

from its accumulation of rain-water provided drink for the greater

part of the city, had to all appearances not been cleansed since the

time of Herod. The railway station, a comparatively modern addition,

was in a state of chaos, although perhaps the R.F.C. were to blame for

that. The fine ancient wall which, with the Temple site--and the water

cisterns--was one of the only original things left from Biblical times,

had been cut into at the request of the Kaiser and a hideous clock

tower crowned with a large clock by “Dents” had been built in the gap

made. Appallingly dirty fellows in charge of a few decrepit animals

attached to a kind of cab stood near the clock tower plying for hire,

but their condition was such that it needed no General Routine Order

to forbid us to use them. Of the Holy Places within the city we were

allowed only a view from the outside until some months later, but we

studiously traversed the whole city armed with the Padre as guide and

a Bible as guide-book. We visited the Temple site, the Church of the

Holy Sepulchre, David’s Tower, and traversed the so-called Via Dolorosa

complete with its sites of the supposed halts of Christ during His

journey with the Cross. The pool of Siloam was an offensively smelling

puddle of dirty water, whilst the Brook Kidron was a mere trickle.

Indeed, the whole aspect of the city dispelled in the minds of most

of us that vision we had often had in our youth and had forgotten of

Jerusalem the Golden. Whatever faith we had in the genuineness of the

Holy Places was sorely tested and it was not long before we came to the

conclusion that one either had to view everything through rosy-tinted

spectacles and believe all that was said, or be convinced that most of

it was sham and accordingly see the castles built up in our boyhood

rudely shattered by a simple historical fact. Nevertheless Jerusalem

possessed a great attraction for us. Outside the old city had grown up

a comparatively new town with many modern buildings, and to the north

was a genuine church of England--St. George’s Cathedral.

The shops began to display their goods openly for the first time for

three years, and the natives offered fruit--figs, oranges, nuts,

etc.--for sale in the market places. And indeed it was an event of some

importance to be able to walk the streets of the famous city Jerusalem

and feel that one was really a Crusader, a descendant of those hardy

people who 800 years ago had borne the heat and the burden of the day

clad not in khaki drill, but in armour. The amount of correspondence

which was handed over to the Army Postal Service was enormous--and

written let it be noted for the main part on German paper by German

pencils--and in many a home in England to-day is treasured a Divisional

Christmas Card for 1917 sent from Jerusalem. We had ideas of being

able to spend our Christmas in the city, but that was not to be, and

on Christmas Eve, 1917, we relieved the 180th Brigade in the line Beit

Hannina--Tel-el-Ful astride the Nablous road. The weather became very

bad and the climatic conditions were by no means pleasant. The line

was held on the west by the Kensingtons in front of Hannain, and on

the east by the Westminsters in front of Tel-el-Ful, and we were in

support. Bivouacs had just been erected and we were settling down for a

wet cold night when the Colonel sent for Company Commanders.

Headquarters was situated in an old tomb cut in the solid rock and

entering we saw the C.O. seated at the head of a roughly made table and

near him his senior officers. When we had all arrived he said, “Just

listen while I read out the Brigadier’s Christmas greetings.”

“... it is expected that the enemy will attack at dawn on

Christmas morning.”

It was an awkward moment, but the Colonel at once relieved the

temporary gloom which had settled on us during the reading of the

message by adding at the end “and England expects that every one will

give the Turk a hearty Christmas greeting.”

Dispositions were soon made. “A” Company moved out in support of the

Kensingtons at Beit Hannina and “D” Company to the Westminsters, who

were holding the line at Tel-el-Ful. The Companies were very weak

and “D” Company was reinforced by No. 11 Platoon of “C” Company, the

remainder of the Battalion moving to a hill behind Tel-el-Ful. It was

midnight before the move was complete and nothing remained but to wait

for dawn. It was a most appalling night; a high wind and torrential

rain make life very unpleasant when one is in bivouacs on top of a hill

3,000 feet high. Our bivouacs were flooded and we were soaked to the

skin, but it was realised if the Turk attacked under such conditions

he would be a hardier man than we expected. Christmas morning broke

and the grey light from the east disclosed one of the most dismal

pictures dawn could ever disclose. Jerusalem almost hidden in driving

rain on Christmas morning! As we expected, the attack did not take

place, though we could not but realise the irony of our dear friends

at home hurrying off to church to sing “Christians awake, salute the

happy morn,” when the dear ones for whom they prayed had just spent the

most miserable night of their existence in waiting for a dawn which

in no circumstances could have been called happy. The rain continued

all Christmas Day until the morning of the 26th when the sun came out

and cheered us. That the attack was imminent we all knew, but the sun

revived our spirits and by midday we were willing to tackle all the

Turks in Asia. We had suffered several casualties from exposure, but a

supply of whale oil for the feet did much to check wholesale sickness.

Information came through that the attack really would take place on

the 27th, and a few minutes after midnight of the 26/27th, the Turks

pushed in an advanced post in front of Tel-el-Ful. The first main

attack came about one hour later, supported by heavy artillery fire on

the Westminsters’ position in front of Tel-el-Ful. Shortly afterwards

the Kensingtons were also heavily attacked to the west of that hill.

The Turk had been reinforced by new troops from the Caucasus and was

making a desperate effort to retake Jerusalem, so the brunt of this

attack fell on our positions which covered the main road, and only

road from the north. Two platoons of “D” Company were soon sent up

under Lieutenant T. H. E. Clark to reinforce the left Company of the

Westminsters and the struggle was intense. Eight attacks in all were

made on the position in front of Tel-el-Ful, and in the heaviest just

before dawn the Turks succeeded in effecting a footing in the main

positions. The situation was grave and Colonel Gordon Clarke of the

Westminsters thereupon ordered the officer in charge of “D” Company

(Lieutenant Hutchison) to take the remainder of his Company and eject

the Turk with the bayonet. This counter attack made by No. 16 Platoon,

“D” Company, and No. 11 Platoon, “C,” under Lieutenant R. H. Harris,

M.C. (“Bulldog” Harris of the 1st Battalion), under the command of

the O.C. “D” Company, in spite of severe shell fire, ejected the Turk

from the main position, though not without sustaining severe losses.

Lieutenant Harris, with a party of seven or eight men, became detached

and was surrounded. They fought to the last and Harris, accounting

for at least three of the enemy himself with the bayonet, was killed.

All the remainder of his party were either killed or were wounded and

taken prisoners. These were the only prisoners we lost in Palestine,

but their loss was due solely to the vigour with which they pushed home

their attack. The remainder of the Company lost heavily and had when

they took over the line from which they had ejected the Turk but 50 per

cent. of their original strength. Junction was made with Lieutenant

Clark and the line was reorganised and held throughout the remainder

of the day in spite of repeated attacks which were supported by heavy

artillery shelling. The following letter received by our C.O. a few

days later gives an appreciation of the value of the work done:

[Illustration:

_Photo by Turner & Drinkwater, Hull._

2nd Lieut. R. H. HARRIS, M.C. Killed in Action, Palestine, 1917.

_To face page 320._]

“Head Quarters, 60th Division,

“_31st December, 1917_.

“MY DEAR BISDEE,

“I visited the post held by the platoons of your Battalion

in front of Tel-el-Ful. The number of dead, their attitude,

their closeness to the parapet, the bomb and shell holes, are

all witnesses to the grim struggle of your splendid men. They

must have inflicted not less than 300 casualties in all. The

fact that they maintained their line intact against heavy odds

and a brave and determined enemy is an incident of which your

Battalion may well be proud.

“I should much like to know who commanded the platoons and how

many casualties they had.

“Accept my warmest congratulations on their courage and

determination.

“Yours sincerely,

“(Signed), A. C. TEMPERLEY, Lieutenant Colonel,

“General Staff, 60th Division.”

On the left in front of Beit Hannina, “A” Company did no less glorious

work. After being in the line in the early morning they were withdrawn

until about midday when the Turk made his final onslaught on our line.

He pressed his attack right up to the stone breastworks which had been

erected, and fought with determination. As on the right in the early

morning, the situation was critical and “A” Company were called up to

assist. In company with the Kensingtons they counter-attacked with the

bayonet, and forced the enemy back. In this action, Lieutenant R. W. G.

Andrews greatly distinguished himself.

A story of the 27th December would be very incomplete without mention

of the gallantry of the other ranks, and particularly the stretcher

bearers. These latter went out time after time under heavy rifle and

machine-gun fire to bring in wounded comrades. Private Martin, “D”

Company, went out with a fellow stretcher-bearer, Ridley, some forty or

fifty yards from cover, and placed a wounded man on a stretcher. Whilst

doing this Ridley was shot through the head, Martin thereupon, in spite

of the fact that he was much the smaller of the two men, got his pal on

his back, and commenced to carry him in. He stopped exhausted half-way,

and after a brief rest shouldered his burden again, and got him under

cover only to find that he was dead. Quite undismayed he again went out

with another man, and succeeded in bringing in the first man safely.

All this was done under aimed rifle and machine-gun fire. Martin

afterwards was awarded the Military Medal although recommended for the

V.C. When told of his reward a few days later all he said was “What

about Ridley, sir, I did no more than he did,” and that epitomises the

self-sacrificing spirit of the stretcher-bearers. (Martin was killed in

France some months later while gallantly attending the wounded under

heavy fire.)

“A” and “D” Companies were withdrawn from the line on the evening of

the 27th December, and joining up with the remainder of the Battalion

followed up the Turkish retirement northward next day, which resulted

from the crushing blow by the 10th and 74th Divisions on the Turks’

right flank.

The importance of the operations near Jerusalem at Christmas, 1917,

were never properly realised at home. They were the result of the one

really determined counter attack that the Turk made during the whole

of the Palestine campaign. Jerusalem, and the crumpling of our right

flank was his objective, and to attain it he brought down several new

divisions from the Caucasus, but the result to him was not a victory

but a real defeat, crushing casualties, and an immediate loss of many

more miles of country.

Referring to our subsequent advance, Mr. W. T. Massey, the official

Press correspondent at General Headquarters said in his dispatch, dated

31st December, 1917:

“The rapid advance in most difficult country is due to the

overwhelming defeat of the Turkish attempt to retake Jerusalem

on December 27th, when, after resisting desperate attacks, the

British delivered a masterly counter-stroke, causing the Turks,

who had suffered tremendous losses, to yield almost impregnable

positions and fall back along the Shechem (Nablous) Road,

leaving in our firm possession points of great strategical

importance.”

General Allenby in his dispatch referring to the same operations says:

“The heaviest fighting took place to the east of

Jerusalem-Nablous Road. Repeated attacks were made against

Tel-el-Ful, a conspicuous hill from which Jerusalem and the

intervening ground can be overlooked. The attacks were made by

picked troops and pressed with great determination. At only

one point did the enemy succeed in reaching the main line of

defence, but he was driven out at once by the local reserves”--

and later referring to the western side of the road where “A” Company

were engaged, he says:

“At 12.15 p.m. the enemy launched an unexpected attack of great

strength against the whole front, in places he reached our main

line of defence, but these successes were short lived, for, in

each case, local counter-attacks carried out immediately were

successful in restoring the line.”

After the defeat of the Turk the Division pursued him, and a couple of

days later were successful in capturing the heights at Bireh about ten

miles north of Jerusalem. While passing through Ram Allah on the way

to Bireh, some of the men we had lost when fighting at Tel-el-Ful were

found wounded, having been left behind by the Turks.

CHAPTER XXXVI

IBN OBEID--BETHANY--JEBEL EKTIEF--JERUSALEM--MUKMAS

The capture of the Bireh Heights, and driving the Turk towards Nablous,

completed the capture of Jerusalem, as far as attacks from the north

of the city were concerned, but on the east and south-east there was

still danger. On the 1st January, 1918, after a night in Jerusalem,

the Battalion was ordered to take up an outpost line to the south-east

of the town from Sur Bahir just off the Bethlehem Road, running in a

north-easterly direction via Khirbit Jubb er Rumm to Abu Dis, just

outside Bethany. The line, therefore, formed a defence about three or

four miles from the city. Sur Bahir was held by “D” Company, Khirbit

Jubb er Rumm by “C” Company, while “A” and “B” were at Abu Dis. The day

was fine when the Battalion marched out of the town during the morning,

but before proper communication could be established along the line,

a heavy rain fell, and the whole countryside was enveloped in a thick

mist. Each company, therefore, had to form its own strong points, and

wait for dawn on the following day. In the darkness and mist it was

impossible to move over the rough hilly country, and patrol work was

limited to a couple of hundred yards. However, the next morning in

brilliant sunshine patrols were pushed out, but no sign of the Turk was

to be seen. Communication with the flank companies was obtained, and

rations and water supplies were sent out to each of the companies in

the line. Every one looked forward to a quiet tour of outpost duty. “D”

Company, however, received orders to push out as far as the monastery

at Ibn Obeid on the Wadi en Naar, which in Biblical times was known as

the Brook Kidron, and was three miles south-east of Sur Bahir. The new

line, therefore, ran from north to south, from Abu Dis to Ibn Obeid,

passing through Jubb er Rumm.

The country over which the line ran was composed of stony hills with

deep wadis in the valleys, sometimes 500 feet below the summit of the

surrounding hills. The monastery at Ibn Obeid which was the southern

terminus of the line stood on the top of the cliffs of the Wadi en Naar

which descended steeply for some 800 feet to the bed of the Wadi.

The monastery had been the scene of some heavy fighting a few weeks

previous to our arrival, in which a battalion of the Middlesex Regiment

had fought with distinction, and had driven off repeated attacks of

the Turks. When “D” Company, however, came upon the scene everything

was peaceful. Only a few monks lived in the monastery, and they were

soon packed off to Jerusalem; in case they acted as enemy spies. On the

10th January, the whole Battalion was relieved by the 2/13th Battalion

(Kensingtons) on this outpost line, and moved to Bethany.

At Bethany three companies were billeted in the local school and a

monastery near by, while “A” Company took up an outpost position at

Sniper’s Post, overlooking the Jericho road, about a mile or so ahead

of the Battalion. Here we reorganised our specialist sections which

had suffered heavy losses in the fighting around Jerusalem during the

latter part of December. A new draft had just arrived from England, and

they were initiated into the art of warfare in the East by constant

training over the local hills. The remainder of the Battalion was

employed on “road making,” or perhaps I should say making cart tracks

through the wadis near Abu Dis, and occasionally a strong force of

about 200 men would reconnoitre the ground in front of the Turkish

positions along the Jericho road; especially towards the Arak Ibrahim

Caves, some four miles away, where the Turk had a considerable garrison.

On the 20th “D” Company relieved “A” Company at Sniper’s Post, but

except for the occasional noise of two captured field guns at Bethany

which were used against the Turks at Arak Ibrahim Caves, there was no

sound of war. Six days later the Battalion moved back to Jerusalem and

billeted in some empty schools in the German part of the city, while

many of the officers were placed in private houses. The journey was

full of interest, and the Mount of Olives, the Garden of Gethsemane,

St. Stephen’s Gate, were passed among other famous sights. On the

way we met a Jewish funeral; we thought that the Macedonian method

of carrying the coffin lid in front of the procession, with the body

exposed to the eyes of the curious, as being a crude method, but this

funeral was even more gruesome. The party rushed along the road at a

great pace, and the corpse wrapped in a blanket was merely suspended

by cord at the head and foot to a long pole, which was carried on the

shoulders of two men, while the body limply swung from side to side as

they hurried along.

During this stay in the city of Jerusalem, parties under the expert

guidance of our Padre (Rev. G. C. Cavalier) were allowed to visit the

Holy Places in the town. I need hardly recite the wonders of the Holy

City as many guide-books will do so far better. As far as the Battalion

was concerned we enjoyed the privilege of seeing these ancient

Biblical landmarks. Souvenir hunting in the shops and the purchasing

of food stuffs (chiefly fruit and bread, which was of a greenish hue

when cut, and of the consistency of gluten) formed the chief amusement

during the day. At night time, however, the two Divisional concert

parties, the “Barnstormers” and “Roosters,” both of which had made

great “hits” in Cairo and Alexandria, were in full swing at their

respective temporary theatres, and provided us with splendid recreation.

Major Grissel from the 74th Division took over command of the Battalion

on the 28th January, our own Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel

Bisdee, having been granted leave to the United Kingdom.

Danger, however, soon occurred from the epidemics of disease and fever

in the city, and the Battalion was moved out of the town to tents and

bivouacs on the slopes of the Mount of Olives; Headquarters being in

a sheik’s house near by. The camping site was just off the Nablous

Road, overlooking the Garden of Gethsemane, and was on dry, dusty

terraces of barren land which in a few days became a wretched quagmire.

Heavy torrents of rain continually poured down for four days and four

nights without a break, and every one was swamped out and miserable.

Refuge each night was taken in the Divisional theatres, and large

parties would march across the city in the pouring rain simply for the

comfortable shelter of the “theatre.” When the weather had cleared

a little the Battalion was employed on road-making, and one day an

exhibition of “sangar” building was given by a company of Indian troops

who were past-masters in hill-fighting.

It was, however, unhealthy to live in the mud of the camp, and the

Battalion was moved up to Sir John Grey Hill’s house at the top of

the hill. It was a large desolate mansion, overlooking the valley of

the Jericho Road, while in the far distance the Moab Mountains could

be seen. A short stay of two days here and the Battalion was moved to

bivouacs in the wadis of the Abu Hindi Wadi on the 13th of February,

where preparations were made for an attack eastwards over the hills

towards the Jericho Plain.

The Turkish line east of Jerusalem consisted of a line of entrenched

strongholds on the hills some eight miles from the city. The southern

extremity of the line rested on Muntar, a high hill just east of Ibn

Obeid Monastery, and came north via Jebel Ektief, Talat ed Dumm, across

the Jericho Road to the Arak Ibrahim Caves, and thence over Ras el

Tawil to the deep ravine of the Wadi Um Farrar.

The British line ran practically parallel to this line, a few miles

nearer the city, with Ibn Obeid forming the right or south flank, and

ran north via Jubb er Rumm, Abu Dis, Sniper’s Post, on to the Jericho

Road, and thence north over Suffra to Mukmas.

The intention of the attack was to drive the Turk from the high ground

on the west of the Jordan Plain, and thereby render the Holy City

immune from attack from the east. The advance was to be made in three

distinct phases as follows:

(1) The capture of Muntar, Arak Ibrahim Caves and Ras el Tawil.

(2) The capture of Jebel Ektief and Talat ed Dumm.

(3) To advance to the steep cliffs overlooking the Jericho or Jordan

Valley.

* * * * *

The three Brigades of the 60th Division were holding the line in this

sector, and the objectives were allotted as follows:

(a) 181st Brigade, Ras el Tawil.

(b) 180th Brigade, Arak Ibrahim Caves and Talat ed Dumm.

(c) 179th Brigade, Muntar and Jebel Ektief.

* * * * *

In the 179th Brigade, the 2/14th Battalion (London Scottish) were given

the hill of Muntar as their objective, and they concentrated in the

depths of the Wadi en Naar near Ibn Obeid. During the night of the 19th

of February the companies deployed and crept up the hill-side under

cover of darkness. At dawn the trenches were heavily bombarded, and

the attack was pushed home under the artillery support. The hill was

captured, and fortunately the strength and resistance of the enemy had

been over-estimated, with the result that the Scottish casualties were

small. The same morning, the 180th Brigade were successful and captured

the caves at Arak Ibrahim in the centre of the Turkish line with

comparatively few casualties. Further north, however, the 181st Brigade

had met with strong opposition at Ras el Tawil, and after several hours

of heavy fighting gained possession of the hill and put to flight a

strong force of Turks. Casualties, however, on both sides were fairly

heavy.

The first phase of the advance had proved successful, and the

battalions detailed for the second day’s move were able to push forward

and prepare for the assaults on Jebel Ektief and Talat ed Dumm. Like

the first day’s operations the second day’s attacks resulted in the

objectives being taken, although the fighting was more strenuous as the

objectives were surrounded by more difficult country, which provided

the defenders with better cover. The Turk, finding himself overwhelmed

and outmanœuvred, retired over the hills to the Jordan Valley, covering

his withdrawal with machine-gun rear-guards so that the third day’s

work came under the heading of “peaceful penetration.” Thus the 60th

Division was master of the Jordan Valley from the commanding heights on

the west of the plain, and the possibility of an attack on Jerusalem

from the east had disappeared.

To return to the particular part in these operations performed by the

2/15th Battalion it will be remembered that they were in bivouacs in

the Wadi Hindi on the 13th February.

For the few days previous to the commencement of the advance we were

occupied in road-making in the wadi beds to assist the bringing forward

of guns, ambulances and transport for the attack. Reconnaissances were

also made towards the front, and on one of these “stunts” our Brigade

Major, Captain Sherston, was seriously wounded in the leg.

On the early morning of the 19th of February we were awakened by the

artillery fire from Abu Dis, where our heavies were assisting the

attack of the London Scottish on Muntar. A few hours later we learnt

of the success, and realised it was now our turn. During the morning

the Battalion gradually moved along the valley of the Wadi Hindi under

cover of the surrounding heights, “D” Company forming the advance

guard. After advancing some three miles the Battalion was halted as

further advance was impossible by day. Under the cover of an outpost

line the Battalion rested until darkness came, thus making further

progress possible. During the afternoon patrols were sent out and

reconnaissance towards Jebel Ektief was made, and resulted in a sharp

skirmish with the Turkish advanced posts, but no casualties occurred

to our party, although several Turks were seen to be carried away on

stretchers.

About 6 p.m. the order was given to advance to the attack, and three

platoons of “D” Company were ordered to “make good” the high ground

west of the deep ravine in front of Jebel Ektief while a fourth platoon

under Sergeant Cross moved along the wadi bed to a point where the deep

wadi in front of Jebel Ektief branched off to the left. When these

platoons had pushed ahead sufficiently the remainder of the Battalion

marched along the wadi in order to reach the line of deployment before

daybreak.

Probably of all the country over which the Battalion had passed

throughout its stay in both Salonika and Palestine none could compare

with the deep ravines and precipitous cliffs over which the advanced

guard had to pass, and if this statement is accepted, there is no

need for further comment on the difficulty of the advance. To move

forward a matter of three miles occupied a full six hours of hard

climbing over ridges and difficult descents down precipices. The night

was exceedingly dark, and great credit is due to Lieutenants Clark

and Neall, platoon commanders in “D” Company, for maintaining their

direction and reaching their objective; the men behaved splendidly

and struggled along through this wretched patch of the Holy Land.

Fortunately no opposition in strength was met except an occasional

volley of fire from the Turkish advanced posts, but they soon retired

to their main position on Jebel Ektief. Great caution, however, was

necessary as large bodies of the enemy had been seen that afternoon

leaving Jebel Ektief, and advancing towards our lines. When, however,

the advanced guard had reached the limit of their advance, the

Battalion pushed along the bed of the stony wadi, and were supposed

to halt at the junction of the wadi in front of Jebel Ektief and the

main wadi, where they hoped to turn the corner into their place of

deployment. However, the noise had apparently disturbed the Turk, and

he constantly poured machine-gun fire on to this junction corner.

It was therefore found necessary to find another way into the Jebel

Ektief Wadi, and the only way was to climb the steep, precipice-like

sides of the main wadi on to the high ground held by “D” Company. This

was accomplished, but how, no one can tell; when the Battalion with

its Lewis guns, regimental aid post, and signalling mules reached the

crest, dawn was appearing in the east. It was decided, therefore,

to make a hurried descent into the Jebel Ektief Wadi in spite of

the casual fire from the enemy’s snipers and machine guns. Luckily

the going down into the second wadi was easier and more speedily

accomplished than the climb from the first wadi, and just as daylight

arrived the tail of the Battalion disappeared into the bed of Jebel

Ektief Wadi, out of sight of the Turks. Once in the bottom of the

wadi the companies sorted themselves out and prepared for the actual

assault, “A” and “B” being the attacking companies, “C” in support,

and “D” in reserve. It had been arranged that the 2/13th (Kensingtons)

were to assault the position on our left, having approached the wadi

at Jebel Ektief by a night march on a parallel route to the one we had

taken. Unfortunately, the ground over which the Kensingtons had to pass

had proved too difficult, and when daylight came they found themselves

perched on a precipice unable to cross the deep ravine before them.

At seven o’clock on the morning of the 20th February, the artillery

opened up a heavy bombardment on the hill. The advance up the hillside

described officially as “trickling forward” should have taken place

under this barrage, while the assault was timed for eight o’clock when

the barrage was to lift.

Unfortunately little or no progress could be made owing to the fact

that the heavies were shelling the “bench mark” some 1,000 yards behind

the enemy’s forward lines thereby leaving the enemy’s machine guns

undisturbed, while at the same time other machine guns on our left

raked us, those, in fact, which should have been concentrating their

attention on our brother battalion, the Kensingtons, who had been so

unfortunate in their advance march.

At eight o’clock, when we should have assaulted, the attack was

therefore hung up for a while. An hour later a Forward Observation

Officer having come up, a second barrage was fired for fifteen minutes

concentrating accurately on the forward Turkish trenches.

At the same time “C” Company was taken from support, and by means of

quick concealed movement succeeded in moving to our left flank, thereby

taking up the position and rôle in the action which should have been

the Kensingtons’.