It was about this time that we first learned the true reason for the
terrible scarcity of food, a scarcity that affected the Arabs as well
as ourselves. The Turks, it appeared, had been successful in their
intrigues with the Senussi, and the sheikhs of this powerful Arab
confederation had declared war upon England and thrown their forces
against the Egyptian frontier. Sollum, but lightly held at that
time, had been taken, and the Arabs assured us that their armies were
marching on Alexandria and Cairo. In retaliation for this treachery,
the British Fleet had extended its blockade to the Senussi coast, and
the hinterland, barren and almost entirely dependent for food upon
Egypt, was already in the grip of famine. The impetuous Arabs were
learning their lesson on the "influence of sea-power" by being slowly
starved into repentance, and by a strange trick of fate we British
sailors, who otherwise would ourselves have been helping to drive the
lesson home, were being starved with them.
For some reason the guards made us draw our water from the fouler of
the two wells, the one from which the animals were watered. We boiled
the noisome green liquid, and did our best to render it potable. It
was all to little purpose, however, for dysentery soon developed and
spread rapidly through the camp. As there were no medicines of any kind
whatever available, there was little to do but let the disease run its
course. This accentuated the weakening influence of the starvation, and
the wonder is that we left no more than four graves behind us in the
accursed spot.
About December 20th a little flour, tea, and sugar were given us, and
we were told that this was the last of such dainties that we might
expect to receive. We decided unanimously to keep on our diet of rice,
snails, and roots for four days longer, and save these luxuries for
a Christmas "spread." Here is our menu for that glad occasion, as
recorded in my diary:--
"CHRISTMAS DAY, 1915.--Breakfast, rice boiled with a little salt.
Dinner, two ounces of boiled goat flesh and 'pudding.' Tea, one small
pancake, with weak tea."
By New Year's Day we were practically on an "all-snail" diet, and the
epidemic of dysentery appeared to grow worse as a consequence. Two or
three times in the succeeding weeks camels came in with food, but
never in sufficient quantity to allow any increase in our tiny ration.
This continued to be rice, with an occasional goat or sheep divided
among five score of us. Without the roots and snails it would not have
been enough to keep us alive.
Early in February I came to the conclusion that our only chance of
rescue lay in getting word of our whereabouts through to some point in
Egypt still occupied by our forces. Figuring that one man would have
a better chance of escaping observation than two or three, I finally
decided to make the attempt alone. The nights would be moonless, I
calculated, for a week or more following February 20th. For a fortnight
preceding that date I began saving a half of my daily ration of rice,
and as the news of my plan was gradually confided to other men of the
camp, these also began laying by a share of their already pitifully
small allowance. Thus about twenty pounds of cooked rice were saved up,
and this I tied up in the legs of a pair of Turkish trousers given me
by one of the guards. To keep the soft mass from settling down in one
end, I tied the legs at frequent intervals with bits of yarn, so that
my novel knapsack finally had much the appearance of a double string
of German sausages. My goat-skin water-bag held just two and a half
kettlefuls of water--forty-eight of the little jam-tins with which I
had to fill it.
The cordon round our camp was never tightly drawn, and I had no
difficulty in slipping through it on the night of the 20th. I had kept
mental note of the roundabout route by which the Arabs had brought us
to Bir-Hakkim, and felt sure that I should be able to strike the coast
at some point near the Egyptian boundary. I held to my pre-determined
course by the stars, and stumbled on over the stones till daybreak. I
had met no one, and there were no signs of pursuit, but in the steady
leaking of my water through the semi-porous bag and the frightful way
in which the new Arab shoes I was wearing were rubbing the skin from my
toes, I forsaw thus early the almost certain defeat of my hopes.
Lying down in as sheltered a place as I could find, I rested till
nightfall before setting off again on my way. By morning my water,
my toe-nails, and my strength were gone, on top of which I stumbled
straight into a camp of nomad Arabs. Flight was out of the question,
so I made the best of a bad situation by trying to induce them, in my
fragmentary Arabic, to take me to the coast. They understood me all
right, and appeared not a little tempted by the prospect of the double
handful of gold I promised them. They debated the question for a while,
but in the end their fear of the Turk was too strong, and they decided
I must be delivered to the nearest Ottoman post.
My captors were not unkind to me; indeed, they treated me rather as a
prized animal pet, a sort of dancing bear, than a dangerous captive.
They exhibited me to everyone they met along the way, even made a point
of travelling circuitously in order to show their strange find to some
encampments that would otherwise have missed the treat. They never
ceased to marvel at my ability to tell the direction without a compass
and the time without a watch--simple tricks for a sailor--and seeing
it kept them good-natured, I made a point of going through my tricks
whenever they wanted them.
The Turks to whom I was finally brought were just as courteous and
sympathetic as those to whom we had been delivered on landing, and they
cannot be blamed for deciding that I should be returned to the camp at
Bir-Hakkim. They were probably hard up for food themselves.