We had reached the district in "Mespot" reputed to be the Garden of
Eden. One evening I was making my way with six men to relieve the guard
on some ammunition barges lying by the bank of the Tigris.
We had approached to within about one hundred yards of these, when the
Turks started sending over some "long-rangers." The sixth shell scored
a direct hit on the centre barge, and within a few seconds the whole
lot went up in what seemed like the greatest explosion of all time.
Apart from being knocked over with the shock, we escaped injury, with
the exception of a Cockney in our company.
Most of his clothing, except his boots, had been stripped from his
body, and his back was bleeding. Slowly he struggled to his hands and
knees, and surveying his nakedness, said: "Now where's that blinkin'
fig tree?"--_F. Dennis, 19 Crewdson Road, Brixton, S.W._