EL ARISH AND FIRST BATTLE OF GAZA.
El Arish, the ancient Rhinocolura, lies near the mouth of the Wadi el
Arish, which runs away southward into the heart of Sinai and is believed
to have been the River of Egypt, the southern boundary of Biblical
Palestine. The wadi hardly deserved the name of river to-day, but during
the winter months it is sometimes covered with water to the depth of a
few inches, flowing slowly down to the sea. Along its banks the
inhabitants plant their crops among the palm trees, watering them
assiduously from wells, with the assistance of tiny donkeys, about the
size of goats, each carrying two enormous water jars. The town is the
capital of the Mudirieh of Sinai, and boasted a British resident and a
force of Beduin police, but was abandoned with the rest of the province
when Turkey declared war. The country round the town is almost
completely bare of scrub, a mass of tumbled hills of sand, rounded
slopes and razor-like crests, alternating with deep valley between
almost sheer cliffs. Here and there are palm or other evergreen trees,
and in the low ground round the wadi are numerous fig trees.
The town itself was a disappointment to the men, who could not but
expect some of the amenities of civilisation in a place of whose
military importance they had heard so much. At the western end was an
ancient fort, now in ruins from a bombardment by our monitors, one or
two more pretentious houses with plaster fronts, and the mosque whose
white minaret, though not of any great height, we had seen through a gap
in the sand hills from many miles to westward. But most of the buildings
were single-roomed, flat-roofed huts, with tiny slits for windows. The
troops were not allowed into the town but a glimpse could be obtained
from without of the few streets, paved only with the desert sand. From a
little distance, however, el Arish was surprisingly beautiful. It
matched exactly with the grey yellow of the sand, which swept up to it
and rose behind it unrelieved by the distraction of scrub, while the
white dome of a little tomb, the faded plaster of the mosque and the
occasional dark green of a low tree among the buildings, gave just the
right contrast in colour. Seen in the clear light of dawn, or in the
evening glow, it had a haunting beauty which all who knew it will
remember.
The inhabitants were a picturesque set of villains; dressed in their
flowing robes surmounted by ancient goat skins, and with a dark fillet
round their head-dresses, they brought back to one memories of old Bible
pictures--and there was hardly one of the men whose bearded features
would not have made a splendid model for a picture of Judas Iscariot.
The women were usually veiled, and those of them at any rate who were
allowed outside the walls presented no very startling attractions. But
the old crones who came down to draw water at the wells would burst into
scandalised but very human cackles of merriment, when the gallant
Lowlander on well-guard filled their water jars with a cheerful "Saida
bint"--"Good day, maiden." A knowledge of Arabic by the way was an
acquisition on which every man prided himself; and the writer lost much
ground in the estimation of his batman for his refusal to arrest a
wandering member of the Egyptian Labour Corps, whom that zealous youth
asserted to be a German spy, "because he could not understand Egyptian."
The el Arish children were as friendly and talkative as children all the
world over, though one regretted their inveterate habit of demanding
backsheesh. The fair hair of some of them led our historians to daring
theories about French great-grandfathers who had tarried and wooed while
on Napoleon's lightning expedition. For the information of future
travellers it is only fair to state that there will be no Scotch
ancestors. It was a real pleasure to see human beings living their
ordinary lives, catching fish and watering crops in unmilitary and
restful unconcern. We lay in the el Arish area for a couple of months,
with changes of camp every week or so, and we learnt afterwards that
this was a period of special training to fit us for the fighting which
was expected in Palestine. It must be admitted that we had not
recognised it as such at the time, outposts, guards and fatigues of
every kind did not seem to leave us overmuch time for training. Still we
did manage to fit in a good deal of work with the smaller formations,
and one or two days of Brigade and Divisional training to boot. Two
night operations--yes, we will say it now--a most detestable form of
exercise, linger specially in the memory. Night work in this sort of
country is always difficult because there are so few landmarks. A
Brigade can be moved on a compass bearing with every chance of success
if the mover has the necessary elementary knowledge. But the commander
of a smaller unit, say a platoon, going to or returning from a certain
place in the dark, rarely has any knowledge of the right bearing to work
on, and if the night is cloudy, he is surrounded by a Stygian darkness
in which he soon feels a little doubtful of his uncharted way. He begins
to zigzag a bit, peering through the gloom for some familiar landmark.
The men, who for the most part would be completely lost in three minutes
on their own, are critical and unsympathetic, and rightly, for this is
what an officer is paid extra for. They whisper caustic comments in the
rear. All sense of direction seems suddenly to fail the unhappy man, and
he sinks into the depths of a misery which few others can equal. At
last a light shines out ahead. Making towards it with a wild hope he
sees the darker marks of bivouacs against the sand, and suddenly
recognises his own company lines. With a heart full of thankfulness he
halts and dismisses his men, and retires to his own hole fondly
believing that no one but himself knows what had happened.
[Illustration: MOUTH OF WADI EL ARISH.]
But in Brigade night operations platoon commanders and even company
commanders and greater men still abandon themselves with the rest to an
appalling nightmare of moving in sudden jerks through a gloom full of
whispered oaths and the creaking of rifles and of ill-fitting equipment.
There are long chilly halts, when the men rub their bare knees to keep
them warm or drop into an uneasy doze--then sudden orders passed along
in a hoarse undertone, and a frenzied effort to change formation and
keep touch with the swaying line. And so it goes on hour after hour till
at long last there is a spurt or two of fire and the crackling of blank,
a lumbering charge, and then much gathering together of platoons and
companies, and we have learnt our lesson and may go to bed.
On January 10th tents sufficient for half the battalion were sent up and
pitched. They were a most welcome shelter from sand-storms and other
rigours of the Sinai winter. The order to camouflage them caused some
difficulty. A party went down to the wadi and with infinite labour
brought up some semi-liquid mud in waterproof sheets, but it was
impossible to secure enough in this way. Finally the work was done by
mixing cocoa, which could not be used for its legitimate purpose owing
to lack of fresh water, with sea water and daubing the tents with the
product.
On the same day 900 men reported to the A.P.M. to escort the Turkish
prisoners taken at Rafa down to Cairo. These numbered some 1400,
including thirty Turkish officers, a German officer and some German
gunners. The trip was a strictly business one and no one had much
chance of enjoying Cairo. The party returned on the 16th.
The broad, dry bed of the wadi gave a fairly hard surface and all the
morning would be dotted with manoeuvring infantry and cavalry, while
even guns and camelry were not uncommon. In the afternoon it was usual
to find several games of football in progress. Ever since the worst heat
of summer had departed, football had been played in the Battalion
wherever a flat bit of Sabkhet could be found--while the men were always
glad to kick a ball about even in the heavy sand. Now with better
opportunities the Battalion played several matches, defeating among
others a battalion of the 42nd Division, while company and platoon
matches were common. The Brigade even produced a rugger side and played
some strenuous games with Australians and others.
On the whole, most of us have pleasant memories of el Arish and its fig
trees--on which, true to the traditions of extreme solicitude for other
people's interest which distinguish the British army, we were not
allowed to hang up our clothes to dry, for fear of breaking the
branches--just as we might not cut down palm boughs for bivouac poles in
forgotten desert hods for fear of injuring the trees. Our moves were
frequent but we always found a proportion of tents, and after a wet
night in the outpost line there would usually be enough sun to dry our
clothes during the next day. Leave to Cairo brought a most welcome
change to those fortunate enough to get it, while the remainder could
console themselves with football and bathing, and the Brigade and
Divisional "stunts" kept us fit and healthy. Those whose duty brought
them into connection with the camels had their fill of excitement, and
one still recalls a picture of an infuriated camel chasing all and
sundry round the camp, with a fantassy on one side of its pack and a
company storeman, who had mounted to preserve the balance, uttering
lamentable cries on the other. The arrival of the gippy driver and the
complete fearlessness with which he seized the trailing rope and beat
the furious beast into submission with a pole, gave a foretaste of the
courage which some of these men showed under shell-fire in later days.
By the 3rd of March, by the way, the thermometer had risen to above 80
inside the tents. While at el Arish, "Padre" Campbell, who had been with
the Battalion since we left Leven, returned home to his parish, and his
place was taken by "Padre" De la Bere. The 42nd Division left Sinai for
France and there was a reorganisation of the Desert Column, which now
included the 53rd Division, who passed through the 52nd Division at this
time and were the leading infantry on the march towards the border.
General Chetwode, who had arrived from France, took command of the
Desert Column.
On the 7th of March we left our tents and moved eastwards again, having
for some of the distance the great boon of the wire road which part of
the Brigade had constructed. So unused were we to such firm going that
some of us were afflicted with blisters and pains in the front of the
calf; but this was a light price to pay. The pack drivers had to keep
off the road with their animals, as had the camel escort, which was hard
on them. Arrived at el Burj, we obtained permission to go for a bathe,
and moved off by companies through enormous sand hills. However, before
half the Battalion had been down, we were suddenly warned to take up an
outpost line, although we had been previously informed that we should
not be required to do so. The consequence was a long march carrying
greatcoats and blankets and a very difficult posting of picquets in the
dark. Moreover, the dinner ration of fresh meat could not be cooked
because the ration and water camels could not find us, and the men, who
badly needed a meal, had to go hungry. It is rumoured that a Staff
officer, not unconnected with the affair, who visited us incognito,
heard a lurid but truthful account of how the business struck us, from a
chance met subaltern, who in the darkness had no idea that he was
entertaining angels.
[Illustration: BEDOUIN SHEIKS, BELAH.]
After a broken night's rest the Brigade moved on at dawn, the Battalion
supplying the advance guard, and reaching its bivouac area at 1.15. The
scenery as we advanced began to show a most welcome change. In the
hollows by the side of the track little patches of dwarf barley appeared
and a thin crop of green stuff began to transform the familiar sand. Our
bivouac area was a valley which from a little distance looked almost
like a meadow at home. On a nearer approach the vegetation was found to
be very thin, and the soil still sandy, but it was spotted with
delightful little flowers, and in the village of Sheikh Zowaid near by,
were fruit trees and cactus hedged enclosures well covered with fresh
grass; while to the south of us were some big areas of young crops. The
effect of this change was immediate, and the least poetical and
imaginative among us felt a thrill of joy in the relief from the
desolation of eternal sand. To the north a high barrier of sand hills
hid the sea, a barrier which runs right along the coast as far as Jaffa
and beyond. But in the distance it was beautiful enough, and served to
remind us of what we had escaped.
Unfortunately the dust storms were even worse here than among the
heavier sand and the place swarmed with centipedes, scorpions and other
undesirables. But we were not in a mood to be critical when we retired
to rest beneath the stars, with the fresh smell of living flowers in our
nostrils, or woke at dawn to hear little crested larks do their best to
imitate their brethren overseas, though they could but manage a few
gentle notes and that from the ground.
An Australian trooper on arriving at a very attractive grass enclosure
at Sheikh Zowaid found a notice to the effect that this area was
reserved for the Headquarters of such and such a Division, obviously
the work of a zealous A.D.C. His annoyance at not being able to secure
this area for his own regiment's resting place made him add to the
notice in large letters, "Please keep off the gwass."
On the 16th we took over an extended picket line in sandy country but
overlooking a good deal of barley. While we were here the Desert Column
Race Meeting was held at Rafa. Several of the Battalion horses were
entered, and did not disgrace us, though we could hardly expect a win
against the pick of the Anzac, Yeomanry, and Gunners' mounts. Several of
the Battalion managed to be present at the meeting, which was a great
success. Meanwhile rumours that something was going to happen kept
coming in, and Colonel Morrison was away for several days reconnoitring
the country to the east and north-east. All our surplus stores were
dumped and a guard of the bootless left with them, and we moved off from
Sheikh Zowaid on the morning of the 25th of March, reaching Rafa about
midday. Here a halt was made, and tea was issued. At five o'clock the
Division moved on and crossed the frontier into Asia as dusk was
falling. It was rather an impressive moment and the pipers, rising to
the occasion, played "Blue bonnets o'er the Border." Behind was the
sunset in a sky of brilliant crimson. In front stretched great uplands
of a dim green, while we, the new Crusaders, crossed over to the lilt of
the pipes, whose music astonished Palestine now heard for the first
time; and with us in great columns moved guns and cavalry, camels and
transport, half seen in a haze of hanging dust. These of course are
after thoughts, at the time one's point of view was rather different.
One asked oneself whether two mobiles in one day was fair, one wondered
where the devil we were going to, and one cursed the dust and the weight
of one's pack. Suddenly we found ourselves moving between hedges up what
might well have been a dusty country lane at home--for the kindly
darkness hid the unfamiliar leaves of the cactus which bordered it.
Mysterious, silent figures loomed up on either side to watch us pass.
Another mile and we turned through a gap and received orders to bivouac
in a real field, and heard that we were at Khan Yunis--"John's Inn."
The spell of home was soon broken for those who were detailed to unload
the camels. The drivers were tired and had "barracked" their charges in
a careless mass instead of in proper lines. The camels were tired too,
and a tired camel stretches its long neck down to the dust. Then comes
an angry private and falls over the neck in the dark and camels and men
hate each other, each giving audible expression to their emotions after
their kind.
We waked at dawn on the 26th to the noise of heavy firing in the north,
and found a green and pleasant world blanketed in mist. The 53rd and
54th Divisions, with the cavalry, were attacking Gaza and this mist, the
despatches afterwards told us, just prevented their complete success. We
passed an uneventful day--listening and wondering. Some of us made our
way down into the village and examined the fruit trees and enclosures
and the square huts of which it was composed. The features of the
inhabitants inspired, if possible, even less confidence than those of
the citizens of el Arish; but the men were dignified and aloof, and we
remembered that we were now in Turkish territory.
In the evening we received sudden orders to be ready to move by 6.30
p.m. and at 6.15 we were told to get off at once. In consequence the
camels and loading parties got a very bad start and the latter at any
rate set off at a feverish double in an effort to find the remainder
before it got too dark. They managed indeed to catch up, but their
troubles were not over. The dust was appalling in the narrow lanes. The
whole Battalion was moving in what was aptly described as "short sharp
rushes" alternately with long periods of steady doubling, while the
camels, who lose their heads as soon as they are asked to increase
their dignified rate of 2-1/2 miles an hour, were floundering along at
its side. Their loads, hastily packed and wildly hurled from side to
side in their disastrous progress, again and again came sliding to the
ground, to be painfully reloaded in the dark by furious escorts and
despairing drivers. Sometimes the maddened beasts broke away and
galloped off, shedding their precious burdens as they went,
determined--as one of the men observed--"to finish this ---- mobile in
clean fatigue." The other half of our live stock, the pack mules, who
are impervious to fear, but possessed of seventy devils of contrariance
and misplaced humour, on the excuse of the near proximity of their bête
noire, the camel, indulged in their most violent antics, kicked, jibbed
or bolted, blocking the track and causing a halt which had to be
followed by a wild sprint to regain touch. Frenzied messages to the
front were met with sympathy, but the orders were to push on, and they
could not lose touch with the 7th in front. Our progress could perhaps
best be compared to a Marathon race in Hell.
At last, however, came a halt which enabled us to close up, and soon
after we got into open country where there was less dust and the fresh
smell of flowers and herbs revived us. At 1 a.m. we reached Inserrat and
halted, receiving orders to lie down where we were, ready to move at a
moment's notice. The ground was a ploughed field, very hard and lumpy,
but we were soon asleep, save for those unfortunates who spent the
remainder of the night searching for lost camels on which were all their
household goods.
[Illustration: BEDOUINS, KHAN YUNIS.]
We were not allowed to sleep it off but had an early réveillé on the
27th and breakfasts were over soon after six. We then got orders to be
ready to move at once and loaded the camels, but nothing came of it. We
were now some way north of Deir el Bela, in a long valley running
parallel with the coast line, whose sand dunes we could see a mile or
two away to the west. In front and on our right were grass covered
hills which cut off all view of what was going on towards Gaza, but we
could still hear a good deal of firing. It was a very hot day with a
khamsin blowing, and as we lay by our arms, kits made up ready for the
order to fall in, we were soon extremely thirsty, though we dared not
touch our water bottles, having no idea when they would be replenished,
nor of course could we rig up any kind of sun-shelter. About 9 o'clock
Colonel Morrison returned with the news that the 155th Brigade were
moving into position to counter-attack an enemy force threatening the
right flank of the 54th Division, and that we might be required to
support the counter-attack or prolong it to the right. At ten we moved
forward about a mile, and again piled arms, remaining in readiness to
move. At two, half the horses were sent back to water; and we should all
of us have been very glad to accompany them. Soon after some empty
fantassies were sent off on camels in the hope of getting some water,
but before they returned, at about six o'clock, we moved forward to take
up an outpost position overlooking the Wadi Ghuzzeh, previously
reconnoitred by the C.O. and Major Neilson. The country was extremely
difficult, precipitous cliffs and narrow gullies, besides being
completely unknown to us, and it was a really wonderful feat on the part
of Colonel Morrison to indicate to each company its exact position in
the dark on a wide front, seeing that he had only been once over it
himself and that in a great hurry. Companies were all in position by 9
p.m. and were busy digging themselves in to very hard soil, sometimes
almost rock. The Brigadier visited us and told us that the 54th Division
would retire through us during the night, and that we must be prepared
to stop any attempt on the part of the Turks to follow them, and must
expect a good shelling in the morning. Meanwhile some water had arrived
and everyone got a drink of tea, which put new life into us. The night
was as cold as the day had been hot, but passed quietly save for a
sudden outburst of rifle-fire to our right, which we rightly put down to
someone with the wind up. The retiring troops passed through us in good
order but very exhausted. As daylight gradually broke we got our first
sight of Gaza and the country south of it, with which we were to become
extremely familiar in the next seven months. We were a mile or so from
the Wadi Ghuzzeh, with the extraordinary Hill of Tel el Jemmi away on
our right, while the Red House among its fruit trees and the white dome
of Sheikh Nebhan were conspicuous in the foreground. Behind them
stretched Happy Valley, seeming to run right up to the tree-crowned
summit of Ali el Muntar, while on its left were Kurd and Border valleys
and the sand dunes, and on its right a tumbled mass of green uplands
with sudden red cliffs marking nullahs and wadis. The position of the
town itself was shown by the minaret of the mosque and one or two other
taller buildings. The whole scene seemed utterly peaceful in the morning
sunlight, not a shot was fired all day, and a big cloud of dust to the
north-west made many of us think that the Turks were evacuating the
place. During the morning cavalry patrols moved forward from our right
flank and disappeared among the hills, apparently encountering no
opposition, and some white ambulance sand carts went through in the same
direction in order to attempt to pick up some of the wounded, which our
men had been forced to abandon the night before. We never heard the
result of their mission, but fear they had no success.
It was another very hot day, with a khamsin blowing, and the hard,
shelterless hill-sides were a poor place to spend it on. About 4 p.m.,
however, we were relieved, and moved back to the bivouac area in
Inserrat where we were able to take off our boots and enjoy a full
night's sleep.
The history of the first battle of Gaza may be read elsewhere. The
Division was in reserve, and had no part in it. It is said that the
Turks were in two minds whether to hold the town or not, and in
consequence a sudden attack might well have found them with divided
counsels and have taken the place and a large number of prisoners with
it. The water shortage, which brought the scheme to failure, would not
have existed if we could have got possession of the town, which was well
supplied with wells. As we did not do so on the 26th it is difficult to
see how our Division could have been thrown into the fight on the 27th,
considering that there was not enough water for the troops already
engaged. Moreover, had the night march of the 26th to Inserrat been
continued as far as Gaza, we should hardly have deserved the name of
fresh troops by the morning of the 27th, and had our Division been used
there would have been practically no infantry reserve east of the canal,
and the risks of such a situation will be obvious to everybody.