Fresh from great triumphs in France, a Man came to Egypt in June,
1917--burly and square-jawed, clear-eyed, vigorous and outspoken;
startlingly young in looks for his fifty-six years,--until he removed
his cap and you saw his bald, domed brow. The successes at Romani
and Magdhaba and Rafa had whiskers. Plans for the taking of Gaza,
that stoutly resisting stronghold of the Turk--long since evacuated
by all civilians--had fizzled out; there was a hang-up somewhere,
things had to be set going again. He moved G.H.Q. from Cairo to
Kelat, in Southern Palestine--a huge wire-enclosed area on the
grass-covered slopes within sight of the Mediterranean--and took
things in hand. Two Rolls-Royce box-cars carried him and his
Staff,--three armoured Fords preceded him as Scouts--and two others
followed with Wireless and life's necessaries. So he would appear
unexpectedly in various quarters, causing confusion it may be, to
commanding officers--and huge contentment to the rank and file.
He looked, upon a certain day in July,--on the positions of the
forces attacking Gaza--from an observation-point affording room for
three.... The day was misty, the Turkish 5.9 inch guns were silent;
no warning drone of propellers counselled care as his binoculars
swept the enemy trenches towards Beersheba, noting the railway-system
for the shifting of big guns; the defence-works--enormously strong,
and a tangle of barbed wire--running from Beersheba down to the sea.
He came down, and went through the trenches asking questions: sat on
a gun-limber eating bully out of a tin with a jackknife and commended
the Engineers and the Egyptian Labour Corps for the pace at which the
railway had followed on the heels of our Advance. Then he went
away--and the rations increased in quantity, and later certain trucks
came up by railway--containing barrels of a malty liquor much welcome
to the thirsty throats of British soldier-men....
Later in October, when the Irish Division, and the Indian Cavalry and
the entire strength of the Camel Transport Corps, and the London
Division which had fought with the assistance of one John Benn Hazel
in France and Macedonia--had been added to the army of strange
nations now mustered upon the soil of Palestine,--and the capture of
Beersheba, with the well-springs of Sheria and the huge Turkish dumps
that lay to the rear of them--combined with a bombardment from the
hill tops round about her--from the sea to the West of her and the
hot sky above her--had brought the gates of Gaza toppling down,--he
swung into the camp of the battle-weary 'Fenchurch Streets,' a
stalwart stranger in a battered pith helmet, sleeveless shirt, shorts
and canvas shoes; and stooped under the door-fly of a tent full of
dusty undersized Cockneys; unwashed, unshaven, bone-weary and just
lying down to snatch an eyeful of sleep.
"How's things going, Londoners?" he asked with cheery brevity; and a
gaunt brown giant of six feet four with a bristling two-inch beard,
and a portentously hooked nose, Acting Company Sergeant _pro_ So and
so, sick or wounded--I forget which--recognised him, and said in a
big bass voice, displaying a mouthful of large white teeth:
"All the better, Sir, because you've come! We fellows said all along
you'd be the man for the job!"
"And, by G--" he said in his deep strong voice, "if you go on doing
as you've done at Sheria, it won't be long before we carry
through.... See you're wounded.... Anything much?" He laid a
finger on a naked brown left arm, knotty with muscle, and decorated
above the elbow with a bandage of iodine-smeared gauze....
"Nothing, Sir, thank you, but a bit of a flesh-cut. A German officer
slashed at me with his sword, as he tried to shoot me left-handed
with his revolver."
"Moral," he said, with his big schoolboy's chuckle, "don't try to do
two things at once! And a scratch may turn septic, in this
fly-cursed country, so don't neglect it, man! ..."
And he passed on, to gladden the heart of the Battalion Commander
with discriminating praise, and drop a few curt sentences;--pregnant
with great issues--before he went away. Pausing beside the step of
his car to ask with the smile that won the men and charmed the women:
"Who's the big tyke overtopping the little Terriers in F. Company's
tent? Not an exotic in this climate, or I don't know what it is to
command a Jewish Battalion."
"I think," said the C.O., "you refer to Private Hazel, Acting
Sergeant to F. Company in place of Langston.... We call Hazel the
'Lightning Change Artist,' because he's always doing somebody's duty,
and doing it uncommonly well too! Killed twelve Turks with the
bayonet in the scrapping at Sheria.... Sings as he fights--a habit
when he's butchering men...."
"Sings, does he? Curious...."
"Sings in Hebrew, the men'll swear to you. Some of them call him
'The Musical Maccabee.' We've two other Jews in the Battalion, both
good men, but he's damned good! ... Peculiar in his refusal of
stripes and so forth, else he'd have had his Commission long ago.
Has the Distinguished Conduct Medal for something he did in
France...."
"Glad to hear that. He seems a hefty kind of beggar. Have noticed
that he's wounded.... Would you recommend him for the Military Medal
when you're sending in the other names?"
The pleased Colonel reddened through dust and sun-tan:
"Certainly, Sir, with pleasure, if you'll permit me! ... But there
are a great many names, and I was rather thinking--"
"My dear Sir, never under any circumstances think that there can be
too many names!"
"Thank you, Sir. With regard to Acting Sergeant Hazel.... He has
been very keen on leave for Alex., since Sheria--most unusual thing
with a man of that sort to risk the loss of a scrap. Some family
affair perhaps. Has big interests in Palestine--chiefly wine and
olives and so forth. Kind of a millionaire, I am told, in his
way...."
"I don't care a Syrian curse about the millionaire! but I'm ready to
stretch a point to oblige the man who spits twelve Turks--and sings
while he's doing it! He's got a knock from a German, too--and might
have put in for a Red Cross bag--a ride in the White train--and a
cane chair on the lawn at Montana on the strength of it! So send him
down to railhead at Gamli with the wounded.... He can put in three
weeks at the General Hospital at Alex, and attend to his business
there...."
"Very good, Sir! But it occurs to me that an R.F.C. two-seater
scouting-plane in difficulties came down in our lines about an hour
ago,--Wing Major Essenian Pasha on board--an Egyptian officer from
the Ismailia Air Station--"
"I know Essenian Pasha!" The tone was enigmatical. "Copt or
Moslem,--nobody seems certain. Some people seem to think it's a case
of being all things to all men. Though,--for my own part--if I had
to place him--I'd rank him with the Advanced or Super-Jews. But the
man's an incomparable scout, and flies like one of the Sons of
Eblis.... Some of his reports have been damned useful! We sent for
him to do some special reconnaissance over the enemy's rearguard in
the hills. Have Djemal's sharpshooters potted the Pasha? Hope he'd
made his observations first!"
"The Pasha's all right, Sir, but his observer was shot dead.
Flying-Lieutenant Usborn--there was a regular ding-dong battle over
Hebron with some Turkish fighting-planes.... And Essenian Pasha
would like us to bury Lieutenant Usborn--and supply an observer to
replace him for the home-flight to Ismailia!"
"Well, can you?"
"It appears, Sir, that the Pasha knows Hazel. They foregathered at
Salonika a month or so ago. And there being a lot of dysentery among
the men of the Pasha's Flying Squadron--and Hazel having dabbled in
aviation--five-guinea flutters at Hendon, I suppose!--the Pasha took
him on several reconnaissance-flights. By the way, Sir, he has
brought in a bit of intelligence.... The Sherif of Mecca's tribesmen
are at Diariyeh--among the hills to the N.E. with the Emir Feisal and
a host of Bedwân cavalry. And they're waging guerilla warfare
against the enemy's rearguards and flanks."
"Good for the Sherif Husain!" The keen blue eyes sparkled. "And
news worth having. We shall be able to shift the --th Division
outposts a good bit more to the N.E. Where's the Pasha? _Marhabâ_,
Essenian Pasha!"
"_Marhabtain Gananâr Saiyid!_" came the quick response to the
greeting, as he turned to take the report from the dark hand of the
Egyptian Flying Officer, looking back a moment later to say to the
Colonel, with his parting handshake: "Well, so-long, Colonel!
Remember, your next objective is Huj, the terminus of the Turkish
branch-rail from Deir Sineid. The Desert Mounted Corps--3 Cavalry
Divisions--pushed for there yesterday to cut off the garrison
retreating from Gaza. So-and-so with such-and-such another force of
mounted troops is working round by sea--to engage the enemy
rear-guard at Beit Hannu. Dyemal's Eighth Army Corps on our right
flankguard have rolled back towards Hebron." (Fifteen miles
north-east from Beersheba, among the Judæan Hills.) "The only Turks
now holding their ground are those facing the 53rd Division at
Muweileh. They may not have heard of the fall of Gaza--as we have
the cavalry between them and the rest of their Army--and Blank
smashed the Gaza Wireless installation when he bombed their big
mosque! You'll find the road to Huj nicely marked out with Turkish
canteens, tin gas-mask-cases, stretchers and trenching-tools, and the
terrain fairly continuous in its drop,--about forty feet to the
mile.... Don't contemplate much trouble for you from well-posted
Austrian batteries. The Warwicks and Worcesters and Australians have
accounted for 'em all!"
And as the baking Earth rolled up, blotting out the huge red-hot sun;
and the short twilight heralded the sudden swoop of Night on Syria,
the Rolls-Royce box-cars carrying the Chief and his Staff moved
smoothly on, following the four armoured scouters, and the other
Fords swung out and dashed after them.... And the dust of
Philistia--watered with the blood of brave men since Wars began on
this sad earth--how many times? rolled up and blotted out the moving
specks, on the safety of one of which hung the hopes of Christendom.