TEL EL JEMMI AND THE CAMELS
In reporting our second attempt on Gaza the newspapers, no doubt officially
inspired, gave us half a dozen lines all to ourselves. One of them
described it, I think, as a "minor engagement"; from another we learnt to
our surprise that we had been "in touch" with the Turks. As our casualties
for the day were officially estimated to be between seven thousand and
eight thousand, by far the bulk of which were from the Lowland and Welsh
Divisions--who went into action possibly twenty thousand bayonets
strong--one may perhaps be excused for thinking that the above descriptions
err on the modest side. Secrecy is a very necessary thing in war--we learnt
the bitter lesson in South Africa--but it ought not to drive bereaved
mothers and sisters and sweethearts to riot and to demand the truth, as
they did in Glasgow when, months later, the fateful telegrams announcing
that their men had been killed or wounded in this "minor engagement" began
to arrive in hundreds.
[Illustration: CAMOUFLAGING A TENT WITH DESERT SCRUB (see p. 29).]
[Illustration: A CAMEL CONVOY. [_To face p. 144._]
We used to wonder sometimes whether the people at home knew there was an
army at all in Egypt and Palestine; an army, moreover, longing wistfully
for the merest crumb from the table of appreciation, just to show that our
"bit" was known and recognised. Even the rugged Scotsmen and the
independent men from Australia and New Zealand liked a mead of praise, or
at least encouragement, once in a while; and when men have spent two years
on end--as most of us had--in a desert land, with no one to speak to save
their own comrades, nothing to look forward to beyond their daily, deadly
monotonous work, they need a little encouragement, if only to save them
from melancholia.
The only means of getting to civilisation, of knowing again the decencies
of life, was to "go sick" as it is termed, and be sent down the line for a
spell in hospital; and no one but a congenital idiot took more liberties
with his constitution than his work made necessary; the climate alone was
more than sufficient for any ordinary man to tackle.
But what about leave, you say? It worked out on the average to four men per
battery per week--per-haps; the proviso being that no "show" was imminent,
when all leave was stopped. As a "show" usually _was_ imminent, it took
about eighteen months, with luck, to work through a battery; and other
units in proportion. Leave to England was all but unobtainable. Though your
father died sorrowing that his son should be in distant lands, though your
wife committed the supreme indiscretion, it was regretted "that owing to
lack of transport this application cannot at present be considered." Urgent
financial reasons--and they had to be urgent--sometimes provided the
coveted ticket. There were men who, despairing of legitimate means,
"wangled" leave; I did myself see an application which would have wrung
scalding tears from the eyes of a stoat, whose moving theme originated
entirely in the fertile brain of one of the man's comrades. The letter was
sent home, copied; the copy was sent to Palestine as a genuine tale of woe.
The man obtained his leave!
Sometime in 1917 a wag in the House of Commons announced unctuously to a
somnolent assembly that all men with eighteen months' service, or over, in
the Egyptian Expeditionary Force had been granted, or were in process of
being granted, leave to England. He was an optimist; or else he looked on
the Veiled Lady through smoked glasses.
The first part of this cheerful statement was ludicrous; the latter part
was true, but the process was so lengthy that the war ended leaving it
still incomplete! What actually happened at the time stated was that a
return was demanded from the various units in the E.E.F. showing the
numbers of men with eighteen months' service, or over, in the country; this
with a view to granting leave. As practically the whole army sent in its
name, with a pleased smile of expectation, the return suffered the fate of
most returns: it sank into profound oblivion.
Perhaps this optimistic gentleman, together with the majority in England,
had accepted the view of the arm-chair critics, that having reached the
Promised Land by easy stages we were continuing the "picnic" begun in Egypt
some two years before; and on this account, therefore, we did not mind
waiting an indefinite period for leave.
All this is not entirely a digression. There were times--and just after the
battle of Gaza was one of those times--when the utter futility of war in
general, and this one in particular, pressed heavily upon us. For the most
part we worked by the day alone nor took thought for the morrow; but
sometimes the desire to see well-loved faces and familiar scenes again took
hold and bit deeply. If you were wise you strangled the desire at birth,
for if you nursed it the result was very much more than a bad quarter of an
hour. By the same token let us continue.
On the night of the battle, after withdrawing about five miles, we took up
a position alongside some batteries of sixty pounders, in a saucer-shaped
valley, dug the guns in and prepared to hold on till further orders. The
following day the Turks counter-attacked unsuccessfully in various places,
and without pressing their attacks too closely presently left us in
possession of the three ridges we had captured at so great a cost.
The problem now was to maintain the troops in these positions. For obvious
reasons the railway could not be brought too near the wadi; indeed, it was
at this stage, I believe, that the branch line running eastward to our
right flank was begun, and despite the constant attentions of enemy
aircraft this work was carried on steadily and without pause.
Belah had now usurped the position of Rafa as railhead and the station had
been greatly enlarged by the addition of numerous sidings for the reception
of the heavy trains daily arriving from Kantara. The few wells in the place
had been medically tested and numbered and were now in use, supplemented by
those of Khan Yunus and the supply of water sent up by rail. In the wadi
itself the engineers had been labouring incessantly since its capture to
bore wells for the troops holding it. This was no light task, for with the
summer drought drawing nearer every day the wadi was drying up rapidly.
Even now, except for a few small "pockets" of water not unlike the hill
tarns in the North of England, the bed was for all practical purposes dry.
Eventually sufficient wells were sunk to provide a fairly ample supply of
water, which not only relieved the Army Service Corps of some of its heavy
burden, but released a large quantity of transport for other duties. By far
the most pressing of these was to supply the mounted divisions on the right
flank with food and water; and of all the amazing feats performed by the
engineers and the transport service, either combined or separately, this
effort was surely one of the most wonderful.
Our position was near Tel el Jemmi, one of the three high hills, each
artificially built in the form of a double cross, that once marked the
southern boundary of the land conquered by the early Crusaders. It was too
far away from the wadi for us to draw our water there; nor in point of fact
was there sufficient for our needs had we been conveniently near. There
were at least six thousand horses to be watered daily, in addition to which
their forage and the men's rations and drinking water had somehow to be
brought, and quickly. About two miles from our position and under the
shadow of Tel el Jemmi was a nullah, probably an off-shoot of the wadi,
perhaps half a mile long by a couple of hundred yards broad.
To the eye it was as if a large slice had been cut out of the earth's
crust, leaving a tapering cavity not unlike the shape of a battleship;
fortunately, however, the floor was fairly flat and even. The engineers
immediately seized upon the nullah and proceeded to transform it into a
gigantic reservoir. Along one side of the nullah was dug a series of large
shallow tanks shaped like a swimming-bath, the counterpart, in fact, of the
one used for the same purpose at Khan Yunus. These were lined with
tarpaulins. Next to the tanks was a long row of canvas water-troughs, handy
affairs which can be erected in a few minutes; and finally the two were
connected by means of hand-pumps, each tank supplying a certain number of
troughs. Other parties of engineers were busy making the nullah easy of
access and exit, for, except in one place, the sides were too precipitous
to allow one even to climb down with safety.
There were, I think, six approaches to the nullah, all of which had to be
blasted and cut out of the sides, as sandstone was encountered after the
top layer of soil had been removed; and not the least difficult part of the
business was to make the inclines safe and convenient for all traffic.
All this, it should be stated, was not the leisurely work of weeks or even
days; the main part of it had to be completed in twenty-four hours, to
supply the thousands of thirsty horses waiting to be watered.
Meanwhile at railhead transport was rapidly arranged to carry the water,
most of which had already been brought a hundred and thirty miles on the
train, to the nullah.
Camels only were used, in such numbers that from Belah to Khan Yunus the
country was like a vast patch-work quilt of greys and blacks and browns. It
seemed as if all the camels in the world were assembled here; sturdy little
black Algerians; white long-legged beasts from the Soudan; tough grey
"belody" camels from the Delta; tall, wayward Somalis; massive,
heavy-limbed Maghrabis--magnificent creatures; a sprinkling of
russet-brown Indian camels; and, lest the female element be neglected, a
company of flighty "nitties," very full of their own importance. The native
drivers were of as many shades as the camels they led, from the pale brown
of the town-bred Egyptian to the coal-black Nubian or Donglawi. Twenty-five
thousand camels carrying water! The first relays were filing stolidly into
the nullah in the early hours of the morning after the battle, as though
their business were the most ordinary thing in the world!
They entered the nullah by one of the hastily constructed roads and
"barracked" in a long row in front of the big tanks. Then the two
twelve-and-a-half-or fifteen-gallon fanatis carried by each camel were
unloaded and their precious contents poured into the tanks, after which the
empty fanatis were reloaded on to the saddles and the camels passed out of
the nullah by another road, and returned to Belah or Khan Yunus for another
supply. There was no confusion and hardly any noise but the grunting and
snarling of the camels as they "barracked" and got up again, the whole
process of unloading and reloading being like a piece of well-oiled
machinery. Indeed, so well was the work done that troops coming in to water
their horses scarcely noticed it.
Day and night the two long columns--the one with full, the other with empty
fanatis--passed in and out of the nullah; and for twelve miles there was no
break in the slow-moving chain.
By noon on the day following the battle two thousand horses at a time were
able to water comfortably, without congestion and without interfering with
the work of the camels. They entered the nullah by a different route, drank
their fill and went out again by yet another road.
Needless to say this was not carried on without molestation by the Turks.
It was impossible to conceal our presence in the nullah, since even one
battery of artillery moving along in watering order raised tremendous
clouds of dust visible many miles away, and when several such clouds
approaching from different directions were seen converging on the one
place, it was obvious that a splendid opportunity had arisen for a little
bombing practice; one, moreover, of which the Turks took full advantage.
Hardly had we left the comparative shelter of our position than the
familiar hum of an enemy plane was heard, and in a few minutes a peculiar
swishing sound heralded the rapid approach of some of his detestable
ironmongery. Sometimes he would hover overhead and follow the long line
till we were almost at the lip of the nullah before releasing his bombs,
and this was the very refinement of torture. During the whole of the
two-mile journey we sat waiting for the swish-swish of the bombs, wishing
that saddles were placed on the bellies of the horses instead of on their
backs. Then as we were descending into the nullah he would let fly in the
hope of catching us in the narrow defile.
The extraordinary thing was that though we must have made an excellent
target, no one to the best of my recollection was ever hit. Many times
bombs dropped on the very edge of the road as horses were passing, but
providentially the splinters all went wide. For this immunity we had, in
great measure, to thank our own aircraft, who, out-classed though they were
for speed, invariably went up to harass the Turk and put him off his aim,
in which gallant attempt they nearly always succeeded. Bombs dropped in the
nullah itself had no better effect, and if the object of the Turks was to
stampede the horses, it failed miserably. Frequently they would transfer
their attentions to the camel convoys with even worse results; it required
a great deal more than mere bombs to upset the camels, who padded steadily
along, eternally chewing and supremely indifferent to the agitated people
overhead.
Considering our unprotected positions and the undoubted superiority of
their machines over ours, the Turks were not very enterprising. Once or
twice they came over the batteries, flying low and sniping--with
indifferent success--at the gunners. But that was the limit of their
boldness; and when our solitary "Archie" in the valley briskly opened fire
on them they turned tail and scuttled abjectly out of range.
Near the nullah a day or two after our arrival a few more anti-aircraft
guns came up for the protection of watering parties, which function they
performed most successfully, though if British airmen had been operating
the Turkish machines I doubt if we should have escaped unscathed. Perhaps
the hard-fighting qualities of the British troops led the Turks habitually
to over-estimate the numbers and defences opposed to them, for they rarely
attacked even a small post save in great force. As a defensive fighter,
however, especially behind a machine-gun, the Turk has few equals, and,
assisted no doubt by his fatalistic temperament, he will take the severest
hammering for days without flinching.
Tel el Jemmi being by far the most considerable hill in the neighbourhood,
an observation post was established on the summit from which the whole wide
plain of Gaza lay open to the view. Northwards stretched fields turning
brown under the hot sun, with here and there a flicker of white in a patch
of dark green marking the presence of a native dwelling; westwards was Ali
Muntar thrusting its sombre height through fringes of cactus; Gaza tucked
away behind, almost hidden in foliage; and beyond, the shining waters of
the Mediterranean. To the south numerous black patches indicated the
presence of our troops and something of the activity at Belah; but most
striking of all to the eye was the endless chain of camels extending to the
distant horizon.
What an enormous amount of wasted effort there is during a campaign!
Herculean labour to meet the need of the moment. Troops are thrust into a
forward position, and to keep them provided with the necessaries of life
transport is organised to the very pitch of perfection. Often the position
is occupied for a few days only, when the troops are sent elsewhere and the
whole business starts again.
So it happened at Tel el Jemmi. We had thought that we were merely resting
there preparatory to taking part in a third attempt on Gaza. But that time
was not yet. After the first two days our guns were never fired, and though
a brigade went out on a reconnaissance there were no signs of renewed
activity by the Turks.
On our left the infantry were now securely entrenched on the captured
ridges and were obviously settling down for the summer. There appeared to
be no need for the mounted divisions _en masse_ to remain on the right
flank, especially with transport strained to its utmost limits to maintain
them there.
The "heavies" were the first to leave the valley, then the anti-aircraft
gun rumbled away on its lorry, and finally we were left in sole possession.
At dusk on the fifth day after our arrival we too departed; and the
engineers were busy striking the canvas water-troughs in the nullah as we
passed. All through the night we travelled, and the journey was a
repetition of our first retreat from Gaza, except that this was a voluntary
retirement. We seemed to cross the wadi half a dozen times and might, in
fact, have done so, for it wound fortuitously across the whole of our
front, and we were everlastingly climbing into or out of steep-sided
places. The heavy traffic of the last few days had churned up the whole
countryside into a powdery dust, which rose in such heavy clouds as to make
breathing difficult, and to see even the man immediately in front was next
to impossible.
In the early hours of the morning we came to Sheikh Nuran, a position which
had been very strongly fortified by the Turks but evacuated without a
struggle, like those previously at Rafa, when we attacked Gaza the first
time.
I remember little about this camp save that the Turks had left it in an
unspeakably filthy condition, causing us to spend days clearing away their
refuse.