I was in Mesopotamia from 1916 till 1920, and after the Armistice was
signed there was still considerable trouble with the Arabs.
In the summer of 1919 I, with a party of 23 other R.A.S.C. men, was
surrounded by the Arabs at an outpost that was like a small fort. We
had taken up supplies for troops stationed there. There were about 100
Indian soldiers, and a few British N.C.O.'s in charge.
It was no use "running the gauntlet." We were on a hill and kept the
Arabs at bay all day, also the next night.
The next day all was quiet again, but in the afternoon an Arab rode
into the camp on horseback with a message, which he gave to the first
Tommy he saw. It happened to be one of our fellows, a proper Cockney.
He read the message--written in English--requesting us to surrender.
Our Cockney pal said a few kind words to the Arab, and decided to send
a message back.
He wrote this on the back of the paper: "Sorry, Mr. Shake. We have
only just taken the place, and we have got it on 99 years' lease.
Yours faithfully, Old Bill and Co., Ltd., London."--_W. Thurgood (late
R.A.S.C., M.T.), 46 Maldon Road, Southend-on-Sea, Essex._
"Fro Something at Them!"
There was a certain divisional commander in France who enjoyed a
popularity that was almost unique. He was quite imperturbable, whatever
the situation.
Unfortunately, he had an impediment in his speech, and when first one
met him he was difficult to understand. But heaven help anyone who
asked him to repeat anything. A light would come into his eye, and he
would seize hold of his victim by the shoulder-strap and heave and tug
till it came off.
"You'll understand me," he would say, "when I tell you your
shoulder-strap is undone!"
The Division he commanded had just put up a wonderful fight just
south of Arras in the March '18 show, and, having suffered very heavy
casualties, were taken out of the line and put into a cushy front next
door to the Portuguese.
The morning after they took over the Germans launched a heavy attack
on the Portuguese, who withdrew somewhat hurriedly, so that the whole
flank of the British division was open.
The general was sitting eating his breakfast--he had been roused at
six by the bombardment--when an excited orderly came into the room and
reported that the Germans had got right in behind the Division and were
now actually in the garden of the general's château.
The general finished drinking his cup of coffee, the orderly still
standing to attention, waiting instructions.
"Then you had better 'fro' something at them--or shoo them away," said
the general.--_F. A. P., Cavalry Club, Piccadilly, W._