CAVE DWELLERS AND SCORPIONS
It soon became evident that we should make no more attempts on Gaza during
the summer, and while both sides were preparing for the inevitable finale,
a species of trench warfare began. This had little resemblance to the kind
that obtained in France, where the rival trenches were frequently within a
stone's throw of each other. Here, the nearest point to the Turks was on
our left flank, where the trenches were perhaps eight hundred yards apart.
Then the line, which for the most part was that taken by the wadi in its
meanderings, gradually swung south-eastwards till on the right flank we
were at least ten miles away from the enemy; which does not mean that
profound peace reigned in this region--on the contrary. The main reason for
this wide divergence was the old difficulty of maintaining mounted
troops--or indeed, troops of any kind--in a waterless country. Though
officially we had crossed the border into Palestine, we were actually a
long way from the land of milk and honey; and it may here be stated that
the troops saw little milk and less honey even when they did at last reach
that delectable spot.
In the coastal sector--we rose to the dignity of "sectors" when trench
warfare began--the infantry amused themselves by making a series of
night-raids the cumulative effect of which was considerable. They were
carried out on a small scale with meticulous regard for detail, as was very
necessary if only because the storming parties had rarely less than a
thousand yards to cover before they reached their objectives.
Most of these operations were for possession of the sandstone cliffs on the
Turkish side of the wadi and the terrain was generally the beach itself,
which from Belah to beyond Gaza was rocky and dangerous and in few places
more than fifty yards wide. At the mouth of the wadi, which had to be
crossed, there were shifting sands extremely difficult to negotiate
especially at high tide. After some weeks of successful nibbling, which
exasperated the Turks into a vast, useless expenditure of ammunition, the
infantry firmly established themselves along the coast to a point just
south of Gaza, beyond which it was not expedient to go. Here they proceeded
to make homes for themselves by digging holes in the face of the cliffs and
lining them with sand-bags.
They became, in fact, cave-dwellers, though they certainly had army rations
to eat in place of the raw bear of their troglodytic ancestors; and their
caves were not dug here and there according to the indiscriminating taste
of the diggers. They were cunningly conceived with a keen eye to defence
as well as comfort. So elaborate was the system that it was universally
known as the "Labyrinth," and no apter name could have been devised.
Long months afterwards, when "the strife was o'er, the battle done," I rode
along this stretch of beach where the cliffs for upwards of a mile were
honeycombed with caves of different sizes, all of them made by the hand of
man. There were neat steps cut in the sandstone leading from one to the
other; narrow ledges along which you crawled, clinging like a fly to the
face of the cliff; and outside some of the caves was a kind of sandstone
chute which presumably served the same purpose as did the banisters of
irresponsible boyhood's days. I cannot imagine what else the occupants
could use them for, nor when they had reached the bottom, how they climbed
the steep incline again, except on hands and knees.
There were wells, too, sunk in various places about the Labyrinth and
adequately protected with sand-bags. Rations were brought up by camels who
made the stealthy and perilous journey across the mouth of the wadi nightly
from Belah.
Towards the centre the distance between the trenches was too great to allow
of much "nibbling" and the activity here was confined mainly to a regular
daily "strafe" on the part of the artillery, and listening-patrols, who
occasionally came across a party of Turks similarly engaged, whereupon
silent work with the bayonet ensued, until one or other party was wiped
out.
The Royal Air Force provided the _pièce de résistance_ of this period of
comparative stagnation. By way of retaliation for a heavy Turkish bombing
raid on one of the dumps at Belah, where amongst other things a
field-hospital had suffered severely, they collected about thirty machines
and flew over to Gaza. Their objective was a large shell-dump, said to be
nearly a mile in area, situated near the big mosque. Though the night was
pitch dark and landmarks difficult to detect, the raid was a huge success.
Many bombs must have hit the dump simultaneously for the roar of the
explosion was appalling. The force of it shook the earth for miles round
and the sky in the north-west was a vast sheet of red flame. All through
the night the racket went on, as first one part of the dump and then
another exploded. Seen from our position on the right flank, the blaze of
light after each explosion was like the great blast-furnaces of Sheffield
as you see them from the night train.
Not for days after did we understand what had actually happened; at the
time it was thought to be the beginning of another attack on Gaza, and one
man was profoundly convinced that the Day of Judgment had arrived. What the
Turks thought about it is not known, but the raid taught them a terrible
lesson; and they did not, in fact, send over another bombing expedition
till long afterwards.
The mounted troops were disposed in various places along our right flank,
some in the wadi, others more or less conveniently near; and they led an
existence peculiar to themselves. For our part, after resting for a short
time at Sheikh Nuran, we moved eastwards to El Chauth, one of the positions
gallantly captured by the Imperial Camel Corps in the first battle of Gaza.
The Turkish trenches enclosed a lovely little spinney of fig-trees and
almond-trees in full bloom, under which we concealed the guns and beneath
whose sheltering branches we slept. Preparations for sleeping in those days
were very simple: you dug a hole for the hip-bone with a jack-knife and you
were ready. The army authorities had not yet adopted the Turkish idea of
bivouac-sheets, two of which, buttoned together and propped up with a
couple of poles, made an admirable shelter accommodating two persons. There
are many worse things, however, than dropping gently to sleep in the open
air with the faint scent from the almond-blossom titillating the nostrils.
El Chauth at first sight appeared to be the kind of spot where every
prospect pleases and only man is vile; and as we had not had a really
comprehensive wash for some considerable time and were very hairy withal,
the adjective was aptly descriptive. Apart from this trifling handicap and
the fact that we should have to travel fourteen miles a day for water, the
place seemed an ideal one for a rest-cure. Considering that we had been
incessantly on the move for the past five months the time for a
"stand-easy" was about due.
We prepared everything to that desirable end. The cooks built a
cunningly-contrived kitchen in a section of one of the old Turkish trenches
and firmly announced their intention of cooking for us every kind of
delicacy that could be made--out of army beef, onions, and potatoes!--for
which pleasant piece of optimism we were duly grateful. Then we heard that
an E.F. canteen had set up house about a day's trek to the south-west,
whereupon a limber went forth and returned on the third day heavily laden
with tins of fruit, biscuits, various meats, and something in bottles that
maketh glad the heart of man, especially if he has a Palestine thirst. Most
of us had one from Egypt in addition.
After about four days of comparative peace and quietness the blow fell--in
fact, two blows. As a trooper in the Yeomanry said, when he found a frog in
his boot: "There's allus summat in this dam country." He spoke a great
truth. It is unsafe to trust Palestine very far, fair of aspect though she
be. The first blow fell, literally, while we were having dinner one
evening, when a Turkish aeroplane arrived and dropped bombs first on the
horse-lines and then on us. Fortunately his aim was as bad as his taste was
deplorable in coming at a time when decent folk were having a meal. Neither
men nor horses were hit and we had the ironic satisfaction of sheltering
from his bombs in the trenches his countrymen had made. Even that failed to
keep the dinner warm, however.
The second and heavier blow was that the inhabitants of our little spinney
suddenly and unmistakably made their presence felt. Just as at Belah the
mosquitoes battened shamelessly upon us and the frogs burst into mighty
pæans of welcome, so at El Chauth the scorpions extended the glad hand--if
I may venture thus euphemistically to describe the spiked atrocity they
wear lengthwise on their backs. Apparently on strike for better conditions
of living they decided upon an army blanket as a desirable residence and
were quite indifferent as to whether you shared their quarters or not.
Often they were already in possession when blankets were unrolled for the
night, and if not then, one was usually to be found in the morning nestling
coyly in the folds. The moment you touched him with a stick he elevated his
poisonous battering-ram, which was as long as himself, and struck and
struck again in an ecstasy of rage, until sometimes he actually poisoned
himself and died from his own blows!
I believe a few men died after being stung by scorpions, certainly many
were temporarily incapacitated with poisoned arms and legs. This pleasing
possibility made a careful scrutiny of the blankets very necessary before
you settled down to sleep; and on waking in the morning you made no
unnecessary movement until you had first assured yourself that a scorpion
was not within striking distance. After a time somebody made the brilliant
discovery that every scorpion hates all other scorpions with a deep and
abiding hatred. This provided us with a new game. Instead of killing them
out of hand we caught the biggest scorpions, made a ring in the sand about
a couple of feet in diameter, and matched them in single combat.
They never went outside the ring, however low was the barrier of sand, but
would manoeuvre round the edge glowering at each other till one found an
opening; whereupon he sprang in, tail or battering-ram first, and hammered
away vigorously while his opponent tried his utmost to get round to the
other's head; then he started rapid fire on his own account. Generally they
ended by standing back to back and belabouring each other till one, or
both, dropped dead.
Sometimes, instead of putting two scorpions in the ring, by way of
variation we used to catch another sworn foe and match him against a
scorpion. This was the tarantula, a great hairy spider with a leg-spread
covering the palm of the hand, another of the unpleasant inhabitants of El
Chauth. Against this creature, however, it was always a shade of odds that
the scorpion would win, though there was a surprise occasionally. Talking
of odds reminds me that nearly always at these fights some sportsman would
open a little book and announce that he was prepared to lay "evens on the
field." Nor was it unprofitable, for the British as a race, and
particularly the British soldier, will bet on anything. One man, a sapper,
made quite a good thing out of backing a scorpion which he carried about
with him in a tobacco-tin. It was a great scrapper, and as it was a very
undersized creature, he usually managed to obtain good odds from men who
were backing larger and more powerfully developed specimens. What this
sapper fed his gladiator on was a mystery; but it won many fights.
With the exception of almost daily visits from Turkish aircraft, whose aim
did not improve, and a few false alarms, the days passed in uneventful
monotony. Towards the end of May, however, a big raid was organised on one
of the Turkish lines of communication. If you look at the map you will see,
south-south-east of Beersheba, a spot called El Auja, and south of that
another one called Maan. This latter is on the main line of the Hedjaz
railway from Medina to Damascus and beyond, to which the Turks had clung
with limpet-like tenacity in spite of their retreat in the west.
Presumably their chief reason for holding on so long was to impress the
Mahommedan followers of the Cherif of Mecca. This dignitary had come in on
our side on account of the revolting cruelties practised by the Turks on
the inhabitants of Mecca, Medina, and other parts of his kingdom. There
seems little reason to doubt that these atrocities were committed at the
direct instigation of that arch-villain Enver Pasha himself. Such treatment
from those who were supposed to be protectors of his religion stung the
Cherif of Mecca to open revolt.
About the middle of 1916, he turned the Turks out of Mecca, killing or
capturing the entire garrison, and proclaimed the independence of the
Hedjaz; in which courageous action he had the support of the British
Government. As his army was mainly composed of undisciplined Arabs he
confined himself thereafter to guerilla warfare and made constant attacks
on the Turkish lines of communication, especially on the Hedjaz railway.
So well did the Cherif succeed that the Turks were compelled to send large
numbers of their best troops in order to retain their hold on the railway.
At various places on the line strong posts were established, fully equipped
with the latest guns and material of all kinds. These posts were a constant
menace to our right flank. One of the largest garrisons was at Maan, from
which troops could easily be sent via El Auja to Beersheba if needed. Our
raid, therefore, was for the purpose of blowing up a large section of the
railway between Beersheba and El Auja, and it was planned and carried out
with consummate skill.
The demands made on the endurance of both men and horses were tremendous.
The cavalry and demolition parties operating farthest south had to cover
upwards of seventy miles in order to reach their objectives, and even those
operating nearest home had over forty miles to go. Moreover, it was a dash
right into the midst of the enemy's country with Beersheba almost at our
backs. This, together with the impossibility of concealing the movements of
a large body of mounted troops for any length of time, owing to the dust,
made speed an essential part of the proceedings.
We started after dark and travelled, with no more than an occasional stop
for ten minutes, until about two o'clock the following afternoon. Then the
cavalry struck a strong Turkish outpost and had to beat them off before the
work of demolition could begin. One of our aeroplanes reconnoitred and came
back with the news that a viaduct might profitably be destroyed, and a
sixty-pounder battery, which had casually come up while we were waiting,
started leisurely to work and laid the bridge in ruins, after which they
dropped a few shells on a Turkish train farther down the line and
demolished that, which concluded their part in the entertainment. Then they
made tea, at which we looked with envious eyes, having tasted none for
thirty-six hours, limbered up their guns, and started back as casually as
they had come. It seemed to be a pleasant life in the "heavies."
As our brigade had succeeded in driving the Turkish cavalry back our guns
were not needed in support, so we watered the horses at a well eighty feet
deep and had to use reins and drag-ropes and anything else we could find in
order to reach the surface of the water with the canvas buckets. It was as
well that we had time on our hands, for the whole business took three
hours. Then _we_ had some tea. It was the only bright spot in what was for
us a very uninspiring day.
Meanwhile the raiders elsewhere had successfully reached their objectives.
Then the demolition parties put in some deadly work, and about eighteen
miles of Turkish railway scattered itself over the surrounding country.
This ended the menace of enemy reinforcements from the south, though Maan
itself hung out stubbornly for a long time against the repeated onslaughts
of the Arabs.
The journey back will not easily be forgotten by some of those who took
part in the raid. The Australians, having completed their work, started
back just before sunset. Moving more rapidly than we they were soon well
ahead; but their dust lingered and most of it settled on us. Later, other
parties, also ahead of us, came from other directions and added their
quantum. Ultimately we must have taken the dust spurned by the whole
division. It was indescribable in the wadi, where we arrived towards
midnight. The battery was cut in two by the last brigade of cavalry to
cross. One section crossed over safely, advanced a short distance and
waited for the other to make the journey. This, too, was accomplished,
after which the two sections tried to find each other in the clouds of
dust. For nearly two hours we rode round and round each other, hardly ever
out of earshot but unable to meet! This may sound incredible, but it is the
plain fact. Those who have tried even to cross the road in a London fog of
the old pea-soup variety will best appreciate our predicament.
In the end a driver from one section rode into a gun belonging to the
other, and the situation was saved. Another driver briefly expressed our
unanimous view when he said: "If this is blooming Palestine, give me two
yards of Piccadilly and you can have all of it!" Finally, as it never rains
but it pours, we had the cheering news that we were not returning to El
Chauth, that we were to have a couple of hours' sleep, the first since
starting out, after which we had a further twenty miles to go!
The last five miles of those twenty were the hardest I ever remember. The
horses had not had the saddles off their backs for over two days and were
almost dropping with fatigue; nor were their riders in much better state.
The heat was terrific, and the greater part of the journey was over country
on which scarcely a vestige of green remained; indeed, the last few miles
were through heavy sand powerfully reminiscent of the desert.
We camped at last in a great grove of fig-trees near the sea.