THE SUDAN
The tasks allotted to the Battalion between October, 1914, and April,
1915, while garrisoning the Sudan were of great variety. With the
gunners at Khartum Fort, they constituted part of the British force then
in the country, of which Colonel Gresham was commander. The detachment
left at Port Sudan organised its defences, ran an armoured train, and
patrolled the Red Sea in the _Enterprise_. One group, under Captain R.V.
Rylands (afterwards killed on Gallipoli), guarded the railway works at
Atbara. Another under Captain B. Norbury occupied the hill station of
Sinkat. Important censorship work at Wadi Halfa was entrusted to Captain
J.H. Thorpe, and, when he was invalided, to Lieutenant L. Dudley, who
fell later in action on Gallipoli. At Khartum a half company, under
Captain C. Norbury, was on arrival transformed immediately into the
British Camel Corps.
For some little time after our coming the normal social and sporting
life of the small British colony at Khartum was hardly ruffled by the
storm raging in Europe, and we gratefully enjoyed its warm-hearted
hospitality. At the beginning of November war broke out between Great
Britain and Turkey, and the loyalty of the Sudanese was put to the test.
The Germans built upon the probability of a Jihad or Holy War, and never
dreamed that the handful of young Englishmen who administered the
country under the Sirdar's guidance could have won its loyalty against
all comers. When the Sirdar announced in English and Arabic the news of
the Porte's entry into the War one shining Sunday morning in early
November, to a large gathering of Egyptian and Sudanese officers and
dignitaries at the Palace, their zealous unanimity was impressive.
Hundreds of native notables contributed generously to British Red Cross
funds. Sheikhs of the Red Sea Province, who had once been dervish
partisans, showed me with glowing pride when at Port Sudan silver
medallions with King George's likeness, given by him to them on his
visit to Sinkat.
Few pages of history are more wonderful than that which records the
conversion of the chaotic and down-trodden Sudan of 1898 into the
peaceful and prosperous Sudan of to-day. Scepticism as to the uses of
Empire, which too often beset the Manchester man at home before the War,
was dissipated by seeing what Anglo-Egyptian sovereignty and British
character and industry have achieved in a land so long tormented by
slave-traders and despots. The happy black boys of Gordon College go to
school with books under their arms, and play football, coached by Old
Blues and cheered by enthusiastic comrades. On the 30th October (Kurban
Bairam day) the Manchesters saw the Sirdar bestow gaily coloured robes
of honour on deserving chiefs. Everywhere were signs of economic
progress. The cotton-growing plantations on the Gezira Plain, the
ginning factory at Wad Medani, the numerous irrigation and public health
works, the research laboratories of Gordon College, the industries of
Khartum North and of Atbara, all bore the distinctive hall-mark of
British Imperialism.
The magic of the British name in the Sudan seemed to us to rest not only
on the art of government but on the great memories of Gordon and
Kitchener and the abiding influence of General Wingate's personality.
The Gordon statue at Khartum is almost a shrine. The Sudan itself is
Lord Kitchener's monument. During our life there we were daily witnesses
of General Wingate's tact, power and example. In all Mohammedan areas of
the Sudan, Great Britain is wisely defender of the faith, and Islam is
wisely with Britain. On the 19th November we were entertained at the
Egyptian Army Officers' Club on the occasion of the Mohammedan New Year.
On the 27th January 1915 the Prophet's birthday was celebrated with
rapturous pageantry, and the Sirdar and Lady Wingate paid most
impressive visits to the pavilions set up by the principal sheikhs and
notables in front of the mosques at Khartum and Omdurman, while huge
crowds of religious enthusiasts beat tom-toms and sang outside. We saw
the Sirdar reviewing his Egyptian and Sudanese troops at Khartum,
formally inspecting the schools, hospitals, barracks and prisons around
Port Sudan, decorating veterans with medals, and addressing in every
native dialect the political and religious leaders of the people. We
found that no men appreciated the care and skill of the Red Sea Province
hospital more warmly than Arabs from the then Turkish territory of
Jiddah.
[Illustration: _Elliot & Fry Ltd._
General Sir F.R. WINGATE, G.C.B., G.C.V.O., K.C.M.G., G.B.E., D.S.O.
Honorary Colonel of the Battalion.]
The whole history of the evolution of the Sudan is epitomised in the
bare, sun-scorched Christian graveyard of Wadi Halfa. The sandy,
high-walled enclosure is the common resting-place of four successive
generations of British Empire builders: first, of soldiers who fell in
the Gordon Relief Expedition; secondly, of men who died while building
the railway which proved the key to Lord Kitchener's success; thirdly,
of soldiers who perished in the war of 1898; lastly, of civil servants
who have died while administering the country since its reconquest.
Staveacre and I touched a much earlier phase of history when we
discovered and bought derelict French helmets and cuirasses of 1798 that
must once have been the booty of some Mameluke. Who would wish for more
romantic trophies?
The Turkish war added gravity to the Battalion's responsibilities in the
Sudan. The idea at the time was to treat it passively, so long as the
Turks did not molest British Moslems on pilgrimage to Mecca. The Arabs
were known to have little sympathy with the Ottoman Turk and his
pretensions to religious authority; so Jiddah was not to be starved by
non-intercourse. The Turks themselves made such a policy impossible by
their raid against the Suez Canal in February, 1915, and the inception
of the Dardanelles Expedition marked the final victory of the school of
thought which put its faith in an Eastern offensive. Some sort of
offensive, whether against Gallipoli or Alexandretta or Haifa, had
become perhaps a moral necessity.
We learnt in the Sudan how Turco-German machinations were necessitating
a more active policy towards the Porte. I acted as prosecutor at the
public trial of a Sudanese by general court martial in the court-house
of Port Sudan in the second week of December, 1914. He had risen from
sergeant's rank in a Sudanese regiment to be Captain of the Egyptian
Coastguard in 1907. Cashiered in 1912, he served Enver Pasha in Tripoli,
became an officer of Abdul Hamid's bodyguard, and afterwards a Major of
the Baghdad Gendarmerie. Long before November, 1914, he had busily
plotted for a rising in Egypt and the diffusion of German propaganda all
over the Sudan. Under Enver Pasha's personal direction he disguised
himself in a pilgrim's robe, styled himself Suleiman Effendi, and
crossed the Red Sea from Jiddah with six pilgrims. One of these was an
Howrowri Arab from Kordofan. The rest were Falatas or Takruri--_i.e._
pilgrims from British West Africa to Mecca--a class whose whole
existence is spent on pilgrimage, brightened by spells of residence and
family life at centres like Omdurman, and this man planned to pass as a
pilgrim among pilgrims. The party was asked by the sheikh of the Takurna
village, near Port Sudan, where they came from. They replied:
"Omdurman." On the 16th November he, in beggar's clothes, sought an
interview with a Bimbashi of the Egyptian Army, at Port Sudan. He told
him and his adjutant that he had come on a secret mission from Enver to
rouse the Sudan against the British and to ascertain native feeling at
Port Sudan, Khartum, Sinja, Wad Medani, Kordofan and El Obeid.
"The Porte," he said, "knows that the English treat you badly and
intends to drive them out of Egypt." The officers whom he tempted were,
however, staunchly loyal. They handed him over to Colonel Wilson,
Governor of the Red Sea Province. His red and blue uniform, sword and
papers were discovered, but he defended himself stoutly against the
charges of spying and war treason, and his interests were carefully
watched by Judge Davidson, who acted as Judge Advocate. One Arabic
letter found among his papers was addressed to the Ministry of War at
Constantinople, and appears to have been a copy of a report sent off by
him just before his arrest. It is worth quoting as a footnote to
history:
"I arrived at Mecca, where I met the Valy and Commandant, Wahib Bey,
and gave him my information. He left Mecca for Jiddah at once for
his usual work, and provided me with a boat and six civilians, who
accompanied me from Jiddah to Suakin and Port Sudan on a secret
mission to induce the natives to favour the presence of the Turkish
government, to rise against the existing European government, and to
take necessary precautions for upholding the honour of the Turkish
government without anyone's knowledge.... I hope when I reach
Khartum, in a secret way to encourage a rising against the British
troops, if possible. As for my expenses, I took from the Valy
Commandant sixteen Turkish pounds and three pounds sterling for the
necessary expenses of the journey by steamer and land. I have every
wish for the prosperity of the Religion and for the Sultan's victory
over the unbelievers."
This man in his defence denied that any Sudanese like himself would
dream of plotting against the British, who had purified government,
employed Sudanese in administration, and given their children schools.
He was convicted and sentenced to death, but that penalty was commuted
by the Sirdar, in consideration of a tardy confession.
One of the Falatas turned King's evidence against his other companions
on the charge of war treason. Squatting on the floor of the courthouse,
their rosaries interlaced with their handcuffs, they assumed the air of
innocence, but were convicted and condemned to terms of imprisonment.
Two were called Isa (Jesus) and one was Adam. Arab life has more than a
touch of the Bible.
The whole episode brought into relief the wide ramifications of
Turco-German intrigue.
Another singular case of German subtlety was that of an alleged Swiss
explorer, who arrived on the 10th November at Khartum on his way from
Abyssinia to undergo the Pasteur treatment at Cairo. He claimed to have
had his leg bitten by a dog, and was in hot haste to reach Egypt. He
satisfied our doctors as to the genuineness of his injuries and anxiety,
wept when Captain Morley, most expert of surgeons, told him of the
surrender of Antwerp, and was given help and hospitality. He went
through the Pasteur treatment and disappeared from our ken. A few weeks
later an Italian newspaper applauded the patriotism of a German reserve
officer, whose zeal to serve his country had nerved him to brave the
vigilance of Khartum and the too devoted attentions of the hydrophobia
experts at Cairo.
At a date when all Britons of military age worth their salt were
training for war, the actual work of the Manchesters in the Sudan hardly
calls for description. In the personal supervision of the Sirdar they
enjoyed a special advantage not shared by the Territorial units left in
Egypt. What is of more lasting moment is the share they took in
furthering the cause of peace, order and good government in the Sudan by
their steady conduct and happy relations with the inhabitants. Our
officers interchanged visits with the officers of an Egyptian regiment
quartered at Khartum, enjoying tea, music and speeches. With an Egyptian
regiment at El Obeid we had a pleasant and symbolic exchange of colours.
In the ceremonial occasioned by the Sultan's accession, a guard of
honour under Major J.H. Staveacre represented the British Army in the
Palace garden, and acclaimed: "Ya-aish Hussein Pasha, Sultan Masr" (Long
live Hussein Pasha, Sultan of Egypt). The men were scrupulously careful
of native sensibilities. At Port Sudan, Private J.P. Lyons, our champion
boxer, who was killed on Gallipoli, was publicly thanked by the
Governor, Colonel Wilson, for having saved a black policeman from some
drunken sailors. The Battalion hoped it had really earned the honour
paid it when the Sirdar accepted its honorary colonelcy.
The knowledge gained during the months in the Sudan will be an asset to
such Manchester Territorials as survive, and may even exercise an
influence upon local public opinion. To many, the Sudan seemed entitled
to rank among the best administered countries in the world. Its civil
service governs vast areas and vast numbers practically without military
aid. Its selection from University graduates who best combine brains
with physique is in the spirit of Cecil Rhodes. Government of blacks by
whites is a commonplace; of blacks by blues, a stroke of genius.
Looking back after years of soldiering and disillusion, the first
months of the War no doubt seem brighter than they really were. It is
easy to forget the illnesses that sent the writer as an invalid to Luxor
and Cairo, and finally to England; to ignore the heat and dust and
isolation, the long glare of the African day. We think more readily of
Gordon's rose-tree blooming in the Palace garden; of the long camel
treks across the desert; of the wail of the yellow-ribboned Sudanese
bagpipes; of our visit with Colonel Smyth, V.C., to the stony, sun-baked
battle-field of Omdurman; of the lusty strains of _Tipperary_ in the
cool barrack rooms. It is right that this should be so. The men to whom
these memories would appeal were men who enjoyed life to the full. They
played the first lacrosse ever seen in the Sudan, engaged in keen boxing
competitions, rallied to football on the roughest of barrack squares,
listened cheerfully to weekly concerts and the first of our long series
of history and military lectures. They hunted for curios in the dusty
alleys of Omdurman, enjoyed recreation in the library and billiard-room,
and ran with great spirit the early numbers of the _Manchester Sentry_,
first published of all active service periodicals. To this paper the
Sirdar and Lady Wingate contributed welcome and inspiring letters, and
the Battalion owed its motto: "We never sleep."
In April, 1915, the Battalion left the Sudan for Cairo, where it again
came in contact with the other units of the East Lancashire Territorial
Division, thenceforward called the 42nd Division On the 3rd May it
embarked in company with another battalion of the Manchesters on the
_Ionian_, and at seven in the evening, on the 7th May, it landed at "V"
Beach, Cape Helles.