In the stress of the times I can't remember when I last wrote or what
I said, so please forgive repetitions and obscurities.
Let me begin at November 24th, the day we heard of the victory at
Ctesiphon or Sulman Pak. That afternoon I crocked my leg at footer and
have been a hobbler ever since with first an elephantine calf and now
a watery knee, which however, like the Tigris, gets less watery daily.
The very next day (November 25th) half the battalion, including my "A"
Coy., was ordered up stream and departed next morning, leaving me
fuming at the fancied missing of a promenade into Baghdad. But
providence, as you may point out in your next sermon, is often kinder
than it seems. Two days later I could just walk and tried to embark:
but the M.T.O. stopped me at the last moment. (I have stood him a
benedictine for this since.)
Meanwhile, events were happening up-river. The Press Bureau's account,
I expect, compresses a great deal into "Subsequently our force took up
a position lower down the river" or some such _façon de parler_. What
happened was this. We attacked without reserves relying on the enemy
having none. We have done it several times successfully: indeed our
numbers imposed the necessity generally. This time there were
reinforcements en route, had we waited. But I anticipate.
Well, we attacked, and carried their first line and half their second
before darkness pulled us up. A successful day, though expensive in
casualties. We bivouacked in their first line. Daybreak revealed the
unpleasant surprise of strong enemy reinforcements, who are said to
have diddled our spies by avoiding Baghdad: 5,000 of them. As we had
started the affair about 12,000 strong to their 15,000, this was
serious. They attacked and were driven off. In the afternoon they
attacked again, in close formation: our artillery mowed them, but they
came on and on, kept it up all night, with ever fresh reinforcements,
bringing them to 30,000 strong all told. By dawn our men were
exhausted and the position untenable. A retreat was ordered, that
meant ninety miles back to Kut over a baked billiard table. The enemy
pressed all the way. Once they surrounded our rear brigade. Two
officers broke through their front lines to recall the front lot.
Another evening we pitched a camp and left it empty to delay the
enemy. Daily rearguard actions were fought. Five feverish days got us
back to Kut, without disorder or great loss of men; but the loss in
material was enormous. All possible supplies had been brought close up
to the firing line to facilitate our pursuit: mainly in barges, the
rest in carts. The wounded filled all the carts, so those supplies had
to be abandoned. The Tigris is a cork-screwed maze of mud-banks, no
river for the hasty withdrawal of congested barges under fire. You can
imagine the scene. Accounts differ as to what we lost. _Certainly_,
two gunboats (destroyed), one monitor (disabled and captured), the
telegraph barge and supply barge, besides all supplies, dumped on the
bank. Most accounts add one barge of sick and wounded (400), the
aeroplane barge, and a varying number of supply barges. In men from
first to last we lost nearly 5,000: the Turks about 9,000--a guess of
course.
The tale of woe is nearly complete. My "A" Coy. got as far as Kut and
was set to feverish entrenching and wiring. Now the whole force there,
some 8,000 in all, is cut off there and besieged. They have rations
(some say half rations) for six weeks or two months, and ammunition.
They are being bombarded, and have been attacked once, but repelled it
easily. We aren't worried about them; but I with my leg (like another
egoist) can't be sorry to be out of it. I should like to be there to
mother my men. Our Major is wounded and the other officers infants;
the Captain a Colonial one I'm glad to say.
Meanwhile our reinforcements have turned up in great numbers and
expect to be able to relieve Kut by the end of the month. I mustn't
particularise too much. In fact I doubt whether this or any letters
will be allowed to go through this week. The men are warned only to
write postcards. The dear censor has more excuse where Indians are
concerned. I can walk short walks now. Life is rather slow, but I have
several books luckily.
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