There was nothing particularly exciting about the march. It was a pleasant change from the life of a stationary camp, and the Regiment passed some interesting places on the Mesopotamian rivers, among them the alleged site of the Garden of Eden, near the junction of the Tigris and Euphrates—a dreary spot now. “No wonder the Twelve Apostles deserted,” was, according to General MacMunn, a British soldier’s comment on seeing it. Farther up on the bank of the Tigris was Ezra’s tomb. “The most beautiful of all vignettes is the hedge-sparrow dome ... set in a small grove of palms.” Throughout this country, and Persia, the little blue-tiled domes under a cloudless sky are a familiar feature. And all along the line of march were points which had acquired some fame in the recent campaigns, before the Thirteenth joined the Expeditionary Force. Here and there some enterprising sportsmen found a little game, which went to swell the camp pot. But there was no fighting—the Turks being still to the northward and still inactive, awaiting attack, while the Arab natives of the country gave no trouble beyond occasionally trying to steal rifles at night, which made it necessary to keep a careful watch and form specially arranged night camps.

The following extracts from letters give a more personal touch, and show the daily course of affairs on the way up.

Captain W. H. Eve—November 1, 1916.—“We have finally got our orders.... Each day we march in the morning of course, and we camp on arrival in a square—what is called a perimeter camp. The plan for ours is, AH, BH, CH, DH show the Hotchkiss guns of each squadron. We take over more than 300 remounts to lead up with us as far as Amara. They come here immediately before we start. The squadron gets 80 as its share. It will mean pretty hard work for the unfortunate men. We have got any amount of transport—in fact I hardly know how we shall fill it.... So we shall travel in tremendous comfort, and cart along all our luxuries, such as tables, chairs, &c.... The horses do look well. My own are pictures, and the whole squadron is a pleasure to go round.”

November 6.—“I have to write to-day to catch the mail from this place, Kurna, where we are just settling down, 1.15 P.M., with a very nice camp in some palm-trees by the river. I am enjoying myself now, though the first couple of days were uncomfortable.... We had taken over a batch of remounts before we started, 80 per squadron—all but half a dozen great cart-horses for gunners. They are very quiet, most of them, but it means nearly double work for the men, and they have all to be led with halters only, and lots of the men are leading two, so you can imagine what it is like. How thankful I shall be when we drop them at Amara.... Those that are not heavy draught are ponies for infantry chargers.

“Saturday was a horrid day, cloudy, strong south wind, and trying to rain, and very sticky; ... yesterday, Sunday, was the same sort of day.... We had a long bridge of boats to cross over the old Euphrates into Kurna, and that took time.... This is far and away the nicest camp we have had, in fact the only nice one, and we are very comfortable here.... We are on the right bank west still, but cross to the other before we get to Amara. The palms end here, and there is corn, &c., on the banks. The new railway is here close beside us, this section apparently about finished, but I don’t know how far. We are getting our soda-waters refilled at the hospital here.”

The new railway was one of the many works undertaken to strengthen the communications of the army, and make it movable and feedable when the time for the advance should come. With a railway behind him, and a fleet of river steamers, the new General was to be in a very different position from his unfortunate predecessors, pressing on with insufficient numbers and supplies in desperate endeavours to relieve the starving garrison of Kut.

2nd Lieutenant Guy Pedder—Garden of Eden—November 6.—“Just got in and hear there is a mail out at 7 to-morrow, so just a short line to tell you I am very fit. This morning we started at 9 and did not get here till 3.30. I had a bathe, and then went for three or four miles with a gun to see if I could find any partridges or snipe, but saw nothing. This is our fourth day’s march, and we are at last in Mesopotamia proper (i.e., land in between the two rivers). It’s awfully pretty here, and we are right on the Tigris. Yesterday Box (Jeffrey) and I got permission to walk from the second camp to the third in the hopes of getting some shooting; we started off one and a half hours before the Regiment, and got in one hour after it, and walked about fifteen miles. I enjoyed it very much, but we saw only four brace of partridges, and got two and a half brace. At the next camp I believe there is some good duck-shooting.

“The march is rather spoilt as we’ve got 300 remounts to lead, and so it just doubles the amount of work for the men; however, we drop the remounts in six days’ time at Amara.

“Yesterday it actually rained, or tried to, for 2 or 3 minutes. I haven’t put up my 80-lb. tent yet this march; it’s perfect sleeping out in the open still, as long as one has three or four blankets on one’s camp-bed, as I do.

“Dinner!

“Later. Perfect night to-night; have been for a stroll on the river promenade; very tired, so must turn in as réveillé is at 5.30 to-morrow. Boiling hot again to-day, very fit but very tired, so night-night.”

Amara, November 12.—“Just a very hurried line, as post goes at 7 to-morrow, to say I am very fit, after 150 miles; we have been just ten days getting to Amara. I have hardly marched with the Regiment at all, as each day I and one or two others have got leave to shoot independently on to the next camp; to-day, for instance, Twist, Jeffrey, and I left the last camp at eight and shot our way here, getting about fifty head. I got 5 brace of partridges, 4 couple of snipe, 5 sand-grouse, and 1 duck—a great day. We arrived here two hours after the Regiment, whom we never saw once on the way.... This seems a topping place, but we go on another six miles to-morrow and join the Brigade: how long we shall be there no one knows at present. I have enjoyed the march like anything, bar one or two nights when we struck thousands of mosquitoes. Thank goodness we have handed over all the remounts we had to bring up here and which delayed us so. The last two or three days I have been wading about in shorts after duck and snipe. It is very cold at night now, but still very hot between 12 and 3. Had a tremendous dinner to-night—soup, whole partridge and peas, boiled mutton, onion sauce and beans, tinned peaches and rice, a snipe, followed by a cigar and a bowl of cocoa.... The sand-grouse came over to-day in swarms and blackened the whole sky, most of them much too high; must turn in now as I am dead tired.”

Captain W. H. Eve—Amara—November 12.—... “To-day we have marched fifteen miles to this place and didn’t get in till about 1.30, and then went straight on to the Remount Depot and handed over the remounts—thank goodness! It’s been rather a rotten march so far, spoilt by these remounts, which have made a terrible lot of work and caused us to march very slowly, only at a walk, and it has been very hard indeed on the men and very tiring for all of us.... The flies and mosquitoes at some of our camps have been wicked. I should think this is quite a nice place [Amara], but have hardly had time to see. Our shooting has been spoilt by our being the last lot of four, and now we can only shoot with an escort, which I shall hate, so I don’t suppose we shall do very much. They say there aren’t any pig to be found till the rains, when they all get flooded out into the desert. We have been through all sorts of country, a lot very dreary dry marsh, but some very nice, like moorland, short turf and thick scrub. Hardly any just sandy desert since the first few days.

November 14.—... “We left the dirty camp at Amara at 8.30 yesterday and marched out here, about 6½ miles up-stream, just on the bend of the river. This is a really nice camp. The country is short heathy turf covered with camel thorn, but all very dry and hard now, and on the opposite bank are gardens and palm groves.... The camp is really as in peace-time, and they have trumpet-calls and all that sort of thing. There are no enemy near except Arab rifle thieves.... I suppose we shall start regular work here very soon, but we shan’t be able to do so much with the horses, as they only get 3 lb. of hay, the rest bhoosa (chopped straw), and only 10 or 11 lb. of grain—uncrushed barley and bran.... I am so cosy and comfortable in my 80-lb. tent—the same as we had in India. We have moved the whole of our tents and the mess right up on to the river bank, where all the officers now are, and we have fixed up one mess-tent with the river side of it up horizontally and open to the river, and it is very nice.... We are under orders to hold ourselves in readiness to move from to-morrow, but no orders have come, so I’m afraid we are not off yet. But a big native boat has been secured for the Brigade in which some of the heavy kit is being carried.”

November 15.—“Away to the east you can plainly see the Persian foothills about forty miles off.

“We are all right so far for rations ourselves, getting fresh meat quite often, and a full allowance; but our unfortunate horses are now on three-quarter rations of grain only, and that uncrushed barley, and hardly any hay, with a little chopped straw in turn. We hope when the railway is finished this may be put right, but it is bad at present, and means we dare do very little with them. The railway is finished in great parts, and they hoped would be through this month. Let’s only hope so....

“The nights are cold, but the days still hot, much more so than I expected. That’s what makes the climate trying, the tremendous changes during the twenty-four hours. But I think it’s very healthy up here, and we are all very fit and flourishing, and hardly any sickness among the men either. My only anxiety is my poor horses.

“They have got canteens going now both here [and] at the Front, so we can replenish always, and are doing ourselves quite well.”

Lieutenant Chrystall—November 19.—“We have passed through the Garden of Eden, and a sterile beastly place it looks; and how old Adam existed Heaven only knows, for there is nothing to eat except dates and dust! The next place we passed of interest was the tomb of Ezra, one of the minor prophets? ’Tis a great place of pilgrimage for the Jews. One finds the reading of the Old Testament very interesting, as all the parts round about here are mentioned therein, and also all the customs, &c., and one can see many Abrahams and Ishmaels with the flocks and herds moving over the desert and round the banks of the river.”

Captain S. O. Robinson—November 19.—“Since I last wrote we have moved up the river some distance.... I believe that we are going up farther in a day or two—i.e., if they can supply us. Our horses are on half-rations at present, but the men are well fed.

“I bought a cheap shot-gun in Bombay before we started, and it has been very useful. There are plenty of sand-grouse and partridge about, which make a very useful addition to the pot. The flies are worse than ever.”

2nd Lieutenant Guy Pedder—November 19.—“This letter ought to reach you just before Christmas, so here are the best wishes for a happy Christmas. I have certainly never written those words before on as hot a day as to-day, ... and though I’ve written to Bombay for a thousand cartridges I don’t know when I shall get them, and I am practically out now, like every one else; it’s a rotten state of affairs, as there are now thousands of ducks, geese, grouse, and the farther one gets up-country naturally the shorter the rations get and game is invaluable.... From the number of troops coming up-country, I should think there ought to be a fairly good show out here, but it is impossible to say. I am very fit, and am sleeping in my tent on the edge of the Tigris, and have a swim when I get up at 7 every morning. I went into the Bazaar at Amara two days ago and tried to find some curios to send home, and am sending a pair of Arab stirrups and perhaps a bed quilt.... Played polo last night and went out shooting this morning, and am going again this evening.... I enjoyed the march up here awfully, and am looking forward to going on. Very fit, no news whatever.”

November 26.—“A very tiny line to thank you for that ripping waistcoat. I wear it every evening. I am sending home some stirrups, but am keeping the bed quilt as it is so nice and warm.... Yesterday I got a beautiful hare, and we are having it to-night ... in fact, we are pretty well living on game, and have partridges and bacon even for breakfast ... but it will be more difficult to cater when our cartridges are finished. Am very fit, and have got rid of a filthy cold I had for a week, and have handed it on to Eve. The men are very excited, as they think they are at last going to have a show.”

The Regiment marched from Amara on the 28th November and was moving steadily up the river Tigris towards the Front. Captain Eve writes on the 1st December:—

“This march is as nice as the other one was nasty, and I am thoroughly enjoying it, and the men are as cheery as crickets. The General and Foster have gone on in front by boat, so the Colonel is commanding the Brigade and Twist the Regiment. Also having no remounts now to lead, we are able to trot along and march a decent pace, and we go largely across country. It has nearly all so far been heathy country with low thorn-scrub and lots of ditches, and it is excellent for the men and horses.... We camp in a huge square, always the same way.... We usually get in between 11.30 and 12, and then to stables, water, and feed. In the afternoon shooting, &c., but I haven’t been out, for I have only one cartridge left. That is my only grouse.... Of course we have patrols all round the camp at night and no one is allowed outside. Also at 5 every evening we all parade round the edge of the camp in the places we should occupy in case of attack. The only thing to be carefully watched for is Arab rifle thieves. I sleep with my pistol inside my flea-bag with me.... Here we are about as close as we ever get to the Persian hills—about twenty miles—and they are very clear and look so nice when one is in a flat plain, though they look very barren and bare. We aren’t on the river bank here, though quite close. There is generally something to be seen on the river, and the monitors look very workmanlike, and I like seeing them....”

Arab Village—December 8.—“Here we are at our destination and all well.... Maude, who commands out here, came and saw us march in.... General Headquarters is also here and some other Divisions. The trenches are about 8000 yards forward from here. We had an aeroplane over yesterday—a great shooting but no luck, so I expect they know of our arrival by now. We have two pontoon bridges over the river here, and there are other camps on the north side as well.... A light railway runs up from Sheikh Saad to the trenches.”

At last, therefore, the Thirteenth had reached the real Front. The Regiment was then in excellent health and spirits, and in full numerical strength. The list of officers shows Lieut.-Colonel J. J. Richardson in command, Major E. F. Twist second in command, four Captains, six Lieutenants, and sixteen 2nd Lieutenants—a young lot, but perhaps none the worse for that. At Arab Village the newly-arrived 7th Brigade and the 6th Brigade, which had been in the country over a year, were formed into a Cavalry Division under Brigadier-General Crocker. The 6th Brigade consisted of the Fourteenth Hussars and the 21st and 22nd Indian Cavalry. So, after a lapse of a hundred years, the Thirteenth and Fourteenth, the old Ragged Brigade of the Peninsular War, were again together on service, but some thousands of miles away from Europe.

It has been noted that Lieut.-General Maude, who now commanded the army in Mesopotamia, had met the 7th Brigade as it marched into the camp at Arab Village, and that his own Headquarters were there also.

General Maude had succeeded General Lake some months earlier, and had now made all his preparations for a renewed advance against the Turkish army, which ever since the fall of Kut in April had flaunted its victorious banners in face of the British invaders of Mesopotamia, and not only defied them to retake the place, but threatened to strike out beyond them at Persia and India.

Before giving an account of the memorable campaign that followed, in which the Thirteenth Hussars bore an honourable part, it may be well, at the risk of some repetition, to explain more fully how matters stood when the advance began.

It has been said that the military power of the Turks in Asia was in fact the Eastern wing of the great combination organised by Germany for the conquest of the world. In Europe the Germans, Austrians, and Bulgarians were to overthrow and conquer the main armies of the Allies. In Asia the Turks, aided by German officers and military resources, were to strike out eastward and beat down such forces as the Allies could spare to meet them. Russia was to be attacked in the Caucasus, Russia and England were to be attacked in Persia, which was the highroad to India also, and England was to be attacked in Egypt. The Turkish armies, consisting of several hundred thousand men, securely based upon Asia Minor, were thus to act upon three great Asiatic fronts—the Caucasus on their left, Persia in the centre, Egypt on the right.

Their lines of communication were no doubt long and imperfect, for their railways were not complete; but holding the inner position, the handle of the fan as it were, they were very favourably situated in comparison with the Allies, who had to meet them by acting disconnectedly from outside the semicircle formed by the open fan, while the Turks could strike from inside along the spokes.

In 1914 and 1915 and 1916 there had been fighting on all three fronts of the semicircle—on the Russian frontier towards the Caucasus, the Turkish left; in Persia and Mesopotamia, the Turkish centre; on the frontier of Egypt, the Turkish right. The fighting had fluctuated, but it may be said roughly that on the two wings, towards the Caucasus and towards Egypt, the position was stationary. The Turks had held their own. In the centre they had pushed into Persia and gained some partial success, but as an offset against this, British forces coming from India by sea had landed in the Turkish province contiguous to Persia, and had overrun a considerable part of it. Even here, however, the most recent phase of the war had ended in favour of the Turks. They had repulsed a rash advance on the part of the British, and, shutting up in Kut the force which made it, had beaten off with great slaughter all British attempts at relief, and had finally captured a British Division of 10,000 men. The total loss inflicted upon the British in these operations had been over 30,000. In December 1916, therefore, the prospects of the Turks on their central front were not unpromising. Though they had not conquered Persia, still less succeeded in seriously threatening India, they had made matters very unpleasant for the British in Asia, and inflicted a severe blow upon British prestige. During the hot weather of 1916 both sides had been preparing for a renewal of the conflict upon this front, and the campaign was now about to open.

Judging from a variety of indications, it seems clear that the Turks and their German advisers had decided that the plan of the coming campaign in Asia should be as follows. On their two wings, towards the Caucasus and towards Egypt, the Turks were to content themselves with holding their own, or gaining such success as could be gained without any serious drain on their resources. There was not any vital object to be attained by an advance in force upon these fronts; or at all events a determined advance upon the central front offered a greater chance of decisive results. If Persia could be again invaded, with real success this time, and a Turkish army, or at least a vigorous propaganda, could be pushed on from Persia through Afghanistan to the Indian frontier, the great object of the Asiatic war, which was the overthrow of the British in India, might yet be secured. In comparison with that object nothing else mattered. The Turkish weight, therefore, was to be thrown upon the central front.

But this much being decided, there remained the question how, exactly, the blow was to be struck. Was the British force in Mesopotamia to be destroyed as a preliminary to a further advance into Persia, or were the two operations to be attempted at the same time, or could the British in Mesopotamia be left alone for the moment and an advance into Persia, into their rear, be made without attacking them directly? From the great city of Baghdad, the capital of Turkish Arabia, and the immediate base for operations on the central front, it was possible to avoid the Mesopotamian route, and to strike at Persia by a more northerly line. Which of the three schemes was the best to adopt? The question seems to have been considered in detail.

Eventually it was decided that the third was the most promising. The argument which prevailed with the Turks or their German advisers seems to have been that the British army in Mesopotamia, though lately worsted in its onslaught on prepared positions, was a formidable enemy to attack in the field, and one moreover who was being reinforced from England and India. Such an attack would be a very serious and at best a lengthy operation. It would be better to avoid a direct attack, to make such threats and demonstrations in Mesopotamia as would suffice to keep the British in apprehension of a Turkish offensive, and to leave them facing the positions from which they had suffered so many repulses at the beginning of the year. They would probably be careful about assaulting those positions again, and if in the meantime a Turkish force were to invade Persia, they would probably have to expend their strength in meeting it there. A considerable number of troops was therefore prepared for an advance on the Persian frontier by northerly routes, while the Turks in Mesopotamia were reinforced to such an extent only as seemed sufficient for the maintenance of their main positions on the Tigris, and for threatening demonstrations on the Euphrates.

It must be admitted that this reasoning was strategically not unsound, and that against a timid or over-cautious commander it might well have succeeded. Happily for Great Britain, the new British leader, General Maude, was a man who combined reasonable caution with the knowledge that war cannot be successfully waged without incurring some risks; and happily also, the summer months when active warfare was impossible had been utilised by the British War Office to reinforce and equip his army with such vigour and thoroughness that it had become a much more formidable weapon than the Turks imagined. Not only had additional troops been poured into Mesopotamia from France and elsewhere, until the numerical superiority had passed to the British, but in other respects the force had been completely reorganised. By the end of the summer light railways had been pushed forward, river steamers in great numbers had been collected from various parts of the world, stores of food and supplies of all kinds had been sent up the Tigris and Euphrates, the ports and the rivers themselves had been vastly developed for traffic. By the end of October General Maude had been able to move his headquarters from the base at Basra to the neighbourhood of the Turkish positions, in the knowledge that the difficulties of transport had been overcome, and that he had now under his hand a force of troops superior in numbers to his enemy, and sure for the future of food and all necessary supplies. It had been a great effort, and his own exertions had been incessant, but the worst was over. In a few weeks more, when the weather became fit for campaigning, he would be able to go forward with every hope of success. Early in December, when he brought together his Cavalry Division on the Tigris, the time had almost come.

What General Maude had then to consider, and had doubtless considered very carefully during the three months which had elapsed since he took over command in Mesopotamia, was his own plan of campaign. He knew that the country looked to him to retake Kut and re-establish the reputation of British arms in Asia, which the surrender of a British Division, and the bloody repulses we had suffered in trying to relieve it, had undoubtedly tarnished. That meant a renewed attack upon the Turks in their strong positions on the Tigris, which the army under his command was eager to undertake. And he now knew, or believed he knew, that the enemy intended to advance into Persia in his rear, where the British forces were small and the Russians not much stronger, while the Persians themselves were in very doubtful mood. He could hope for little co-operation on the part of the Russians, either there or on the side of the Caucasus, for Russia was in serious difficulties; nor could he hope for any help from the British forces in Egypt. They apparently had enough on their hands, and in any case they were separated from him by the Arabian desert. On both flanks of their great Asiatic battle-front the Turks were practically safe. For success against them he must depend solely upon the forces under his own command in the centre of Asia. And since the Allies in Europe were barely holding their own, he must have felt as Jervis felt when he sighted the Spanish fleet off St Vincent, that England had great need of a victory at that moment.

It is evident from what General Maude has left on record that he had from the first contemplated the action he eventually took. On this point it is well to let him speak for himself.

Despatch of April 10, 1917.—“Briefly put,” he says, “the enemy’s plan appeared to be to contain our main forces on the Tigris, whilst a vigorous campaign, which would directly threaten India, was being developed in Persia. There were indications, too, of an impending move down the Euphrates towards Nasariyeh. To disseminate our troops in order to safeguard the various conflicting interests involved would have relegated us to a passive defensive everywhere, and it seemed clear from the outset that the true solution of the problem was a resolute offensive, with concentrated forces, on the Tigris, thus effectively threatening Baghdad, the centre from which the enemy’s columns were operating. Such a stroke pursued with energy and success would, it was felt, automatically relieve the pressure in Persia and on the Euphrates, and preserve quiet in all districts with the security of which we were charged.

“This, then, was the principle which guided the subsequent operations, which may be conveniently grouped into phases as follows:—

“First.—Preliminary preparations from 28th August to 12th December.”-

It would be confusing to follow up at this point General Maude’s summary of his operations, but enough of it has been given to show that from the time he took command he contemplated a “resolute offensive” on the Tigris, threatening Baghdad, and that his preliminary preparations for that movement were steadily pushed on until the 12th December, when all was ready.

The immediate field of conflict on the Tigris, and the positions occupied by the conflicting armies, are shown in the accompanying sketch-map.

The Turks were astride the river. On the north or left bank they held the same positions as they had occupied since the fall of Kut. At Sannaiyat the enemy awaited attack in the same formidable labyrinth of trenches, flanked by marsh and river, from which in the early part of the year he had three times repelled the desperate onslaught of our troops. “Since then he had strengthened and elaborated this trench system, and a series of successive positions extended back as far as Kut, fifteen miles in the rear. The river bank from Sannaiyat to Kut was also intrenched.” On the south or right bank of the river the enemy was not so far forward. He had, on this side, withdrawn to a line of intrenched defences which curved from a point on the Tigris, only about three miles east of Kut, to a point on the Hai stream, and thence round again to the Tigris west of Kut. The Hai stream was also held for some miles southward with posts and mounted Arab auxiliaries.

The British troops held the north bank of the Tigris up to the Turkish trenches at Sannaiyat, and the south bank for about eleven miles farther up-stream. Thus, as General Maude points out, the British were strategically better situated than the enemy, for while their flanks were secure the withdrawal of the enemy’s troops on the south bank seemed to offer a chance for a blow sooner or later at his communications on the north bank, which would mean the retreat or capture of the force at Sannaiyat.

In these circumstances it was decided that the proper course was, first, to secure possession of the Hai stream, then to clear the enemy’s trench systems on the right bank of the Tigris, and finally to cross the Tigris as far west as possible. This idea of a turning movement by the south was not a new one, for during the British operations for the relief of Kut more than one attempt had been made to seize the Hai; but the British forces had been too weak, and the attempts had failed. Now, as shown above, General Maude’s army was better fitted in numbers and equipment to make the attempt with success.

It may be as well to note here what was the composition of the army. Speaking generally, it may be said that about two-thirds of it consisted of Indians, drawn from various races, the remaining third being British. The Indians were not regarded in Europe, or by the Turks, as equal to the British, nor were they—for European warfare at all events. Nevertheless, they had faced the Turks well in previous fighting, and as shown in an earlier chapter, they had won some credit even on the European Front, under great disadvantages. They were, in fact, excellent soldiers, and the Cavalry had a special reputation. The British troops were as good as possible, largely drawn from the old Regular Army, with additions from “Kitchener’s men.” They were all in high spirits, and eager to get at the enemy. This was certainly the case in the Thirteenth Hussars, where the men were very keen to go forward.

On the 12th December the final orders were given. Lieut.-General Cobbe, with a strong force of Infantry and Artillery, was to hold the enemy to his positions on the north bank of the Tigris, and picket the south bank nearly up to the Turkish positions on that side, while the Cavalry and a force under Lieut.-General Marshall were by a surprise march to secure and intrench a position on the Hai. Everything was to be got ready that night for the opening of the campaign on the morrow.

It is curious to note, by the way, that on the 12th December, the day before the advance, a detail which seems to have given special satisfaction to the British troops was the permission to shave the moustache. Private Massey’s diary has the following entry: “On the 12th it came in the orders from the Regimental Office that we could shave the hair off our top lip if we wished. Many a time have I heard the men grousing and grumbling because it was against orders to shave the top lip. A great many took advantage of this order, and Captain Eve appeared on parade with his moustache shaved off. I fetched a pair of scissors, and after cutting the hair on my top lip quite short, I shaved it off, and I felt much healthier and cleaner.” So the Thirteenth, or many of them, went into the Mesopotamian fighting after the manner of their forefathers in the days of Napoleon—“bien rasés.”

CHAPTER XII.
DECEMBER 12, 1916-FEBRUARY 24, 1917—FIGHTING ON THE TIGRIS.

During the night of the 12th December the last preparations were completed. General Marshall concentrated his troops in the forward area from which he was to march on the Hai stream, and General Cobbe got ready to bombard the Turkish trenches on the north of the Tigris, so as to give the impression that the British intended once more to attack Sannaiyat.

On the 13th the bombardment opened, and the new campaign had begun. General Maude himself moved his Headquarters some miles forward, and after dark General Marshall’s force, with the Cavalry on their left, struck out across country for the Hai.

The night march was carried out without mishap. At 6 A.M. on the morning of the 14th the column had reached its objective unobserved; and the enemy, taken by surprise, made no stand in defence of the stream. It was crossed by General Marshall at Atab, and by the Cavalry a little farther south at Basrujiyeh. The first move of the campaign had been a complete success.

The Thirteenth had borne their part in the night march, and owing to the completeness of the surprise had sustained no casualties. They got over the stream unopposed, and without any difficulty, for in their Colonel’s words it was “almost a dry bed,” and after an hour’s rest for watering and feeding the horses they marched northwards up the right bank of the stream with the Cavalry Division, while General Marshall’s Infantry marched up the left bank, the Turks retiring upon their intrenched position covering Kut. The force was, according to Private Massey, shelled by the gunboat Firefly, which the Turks had taken during Townshend’s retreat on Kut, but without result.

But if the enemy had permitted thus easily the seizure by the British of a point on the Hai, they were none the less determined to cling tenaciously to the several strong positions which they still held on the south bank of the Tigris, and two months of severe fighting were yet to take place before they could be dislodged from the last of these. During that time the main fighting had, of course, to be done by the Infantry and guns, but the Cavalry was constantly engaged in covering their flanks, “in reconnaissances, in harassing the enemy’s communications west of the Hai, and in raids, capturing stock and grain.” The letters and diaries of the Thirteenth will be quoted as before to show the work of the mounted arm, and their share in it.

2nd Lieutenant Guy Pedder—December 19, 1916.—“We are standing-to at the moment, all packed up ready to move, securing the first opportunity I have had of writing since we started scrapping. We left that camp from where I last wrote21 on the evening of the 13th, and marched all night and came under Arab fire about 8.30 next morning. We marched on and on, but my squadron did not get any show, as we were on flank guard out of it all. We got to a very famous spot in this part of the world and we had got the Turks pushed back a few miles. We got to bed very cold and very empty about 10 o’clock, the wretched horses having had their saddles on for 27 hours. Next morning I woke up at 5 and found our transport had got up and a ripping hot breakfast was ready for us. We had had practically nothing since midnight the night before. We marched off again about 8, but did not do much all day (a very long and tiring one). The Regiment only had a couple of casualties, and we were shelled a bit. Next day was much the same, getting back after dark. Then Sunday we were told we were going to have a day’s rest; however, about 9 o’clock, Pearson and I were sent out with two troops to report on some mounted troops right away in the distance. We galloped out and got as close as we dare and reported about 800 Arabs, and galloped back, the battery having got our range firing over our heads, to find the whole Regiment were out, and as D had turned [out] quickest we formed the advance-guard. We went about five miles at a tremendous pace but could not catch them, and then were told to act as rearguard to the Regiment, which was moving back to camp, and then the fun began. Directly we turned homewards on came any number of what we thought were Arabs shooting at us from long range, and making it very unpleasant; however, we did our job and got back all right with only three men hit, two slightly; five horses, three killed. We found out afterwards that we were up against a mixed force of Turks and Arabs. I thought the firing was too unpleasantly good for Arabs. Yesterday we went out in force and waited about all day, but never got a show. Directly we turned homewards we were shelled. The Regiment was extremely lucky, no one hit. Two shells burst only a few yards from me and my troop, but no one was hit and the horses only made a slight fuss for a second or two. My men were excellent under fire.... This sort of fighting is better than in France, as though there is not so much cover there is more room and space, and of course there is not nearly so much shelling. We could not possibly camp at night so close to the line in France as we do here. I hear our English mail is on its way from its last standing camp from where I last wrote, and is being brought up by camels. I am more than grateful for that waistcoat, especially in the evening and first thing in the morning, when we get an icy cold wind. During the day the weather is perfect, just like spring at home.”

Captain W. H. Eve—December 19.—“These Arabs and Turkish Cavalry are wretched brutes to fight. They won’t let you get near them. Then directly you start home away from them they attack and worry.... It always seems to be the way. Luckily as a rule they are apparently pretty bad shots. I am rather hopeless of ever being able to get at them mounted, but I shall try, and we may get the Infantry out of their trenches one day. But there’s nothing to worry about, we are right on top of them. The job is to get near them.”

Lieutenant Munster—December 19.—“We left our camp a week ago and have been skirmishing about ever since. So far we have had only very slight casualties, and it does not appear to me as though we Cavalry should become heavily engaged. Up to now we have been occupied in keeping the Arabs from interfering with operations against the Turks. We are quite comfortable, and on full rations. There seems to be no difficulty about supplies. The weather has not broken yet. Our horses are having a hard time just now.”

Private Massey writes in his diary regarding these casualties: “As the bullets which the Arabs use are as big as a man’s little finger, with flattened nose just rounded off, they make a big noise going through the air, as well as making terrible wounds.” The horses suffered most.

Lieutenant Chrystall.—“We have been doing, as you will no doubt have seen by the papers, a little fighting, and have been doing a lot of night marching on ‘operation scale,’ which means waterproof sheet, one blanket, and biscuits and bully, and out all day. Our horses at times have been forty-four hours without water, which of course is very hard. Well, we were bemoaning our fate when we were ordered out on Christmas Eve morning for an all-night show, and thinking we will never have any Christmas dinner at all. We returned to camp about 3 P.M. on Christmas Day and found a much-belated Christmas parcel awaiting us, and all your splendid parcels. We had a meal fit for a king, and we had to thank all you good people for it.”

Captain W. H. Eve—December 27.—“Personally I see no show ever for us, and am sorry I ever joined the Cavalry.... I have no delusions about it now.... I shall never get a gallop with my squadron....”

2nd Lieutenant Guy Pedder—December 30.—“We are back again in the same camp as we started out from for this show,22 and got back just in time, as it has rained almost ever since. We are pretty comfortable in our tents, after much digging. I mean, we dig out the inside of our tents, and make a trench all round to keep the water out. You achieve three things by doing this: (1) your tent is much warmer; (2) you have much more room and do not bump your head every time you turn round; (3) you keep dry.... We can’t possibly move up again for another show until the sun comes out and dries the mud, which is ankle-deep now. (Thank goodness! I was able to buy a pair of gum-boots from our Ordnance here.) Ormrod, Hill, and Lord arrived with a draft. They marched up-country and brought us some horses which we wanted badly. One night the Arabs scored over them well. Ormrod had his gun stolen out of his tent, Hill and Lord had all their kit taken, including bedding, valises, &c., and the sentries were on duty all round and within a few yards of the spot! The Arab is a marvellous thief.... The actual Christmas parcels have not arrived yet; all the same, we had a wonderful Christmas dinner only about three miles from Kut—soup, fish, mutton, and vegetables (we got the mutton after raiding an Arab Fort on Christmas Eve), champagne, two bottles for six of us (gift from Lord Curzon, I believe), an enormous plum-pudding which I bought at the E.F.C.23 before we left here, also there was a Christmas cake and pudding given by telegraph. There is an E.F.C. up here now, but owing to transport difficulties it runs out of everything you want very quickly; but the best thing of all is our regimental coffee-shop (the only one in Mesopotamia, I believe). Even right up here it is open again, and you can buy anything from getting soda-water bottles refilled to buying assorted chocolates.... A tremendous thunderstorm is raging as I write, and it is coming down in buckets; to-morrow the mud will be knee-deep.”

2nd Lieutenant J. O. P. Clarkson—December 30.—“Here’s a good story and true. One of our monitors had been up to an advanced position to shell the Turks, but had got heavily shelled itself. After a few days of this they tried to pull the Turks’ leg a bit. They rigged a mahailla (Arab boat) with funnels and mast to represent a monitor, towed it up during the night, and the next day put it into position, burning oily rags and brown paper to represent its being under steam. It was not shelled. They towed it up higher still. It was not shelled. The next day a notice appeared from the Turkish trenches, and it ran, “Your real monitors amuse us, but your dummy one is superb.”

Lieutenant Munster—December 30.—“Still here and still raining. There can hardly be any doubt that we shall not be moved at present, the mud is so awful. I used to think the mud at Aldershot could not be surpassed, but now I am inclined to think Mesopotamia beats it. We have to build little mud walls round our tents to keep the water out. I did not build mine deep enough, and as a result I think I had a foot and a half of water in my tent. It came just two or three inches short of the level of my bed. I woke up and saw my boots and clothes floating about.”

January 4, 1917.—“We have been in our permanent camp about ten days now, and are quite likely to be here all the winter. After the winter come the floods, and before the floods have gone down the great heat comes on, so that October, November, and December are considered to be the only fighting months of the year. This year active operations did not start until December 14th, and the Cavalry withdrew to permanent billets on December 26th.”

Captain W. H. Eve—January 17.—“I got your letter of December 3rd when we got back here to standing camp the day before yesterday. We are still all whole and flourishing, and I am very fit indeed. We left the base November 3rd.... The ‘show’ was to start on the 14th,24 and we marched from here on the evening of the 13th. From the papers you will probably have gathered more or less what we did to start with.

“We were on the left or outer flank of the Infantry attack, away on the south. Marched all night, crossed the river Hai (nearly dry then) at dawn on the 14th; meeting with no opposition, then turned north up its western bank, and kept pace with the Infantry attack.

“Our part of the show was a success, a complete surprise to the enemy apparently, and in fact we didn’t run into any of them for some time. We had a little sniping from Arabs and a few Turk Cavalry, but no real fighting. We had a longish trek though, about twenty-six hours for our horses under saddle, as we did not get back to doss down by the river until about 9 P.M., 14th.

“The next two days we spent in reconnaissance wide on the flank, had long days for the horses, no water from morning till night (luckily cool weather), but we had no fighting, only got shelled once or twice.”

Sunday.—“I had a little scrap with the squadron. We got a sight of about 800 Arabs and Turks, and the Regiment, which was for duty that day, turned out after them. We could not catch them, but on going home had a rearguard fight, which devolved on my squadron, and wherein they pleased me.

“This rearguard business, the worst and most unsatisfactory to do, is the Arabs’ great game. We had two or three more days’ reconnaissance. We accomplished nothing, and then were sent on a show to try and bridge the river Tigris higher up. This was a failure, and we rather got it in the neck, so you won’t see anything of it in the papers. The Regiment that day was in reserve, so I saw very little of it, but of course I know what happened.

“On Christmas Eve we went off to deal with a hostile Arab chief down south. That meant another night march, and so on. But we found the bird had flown, and had to content ourselves with sacking his fort and village, and collecting what cattle and sheep we could.

“We got back here on Boxing Day, and it then rained for a week or more, and we lived in mud. But here, of course, we are in permanent camp and under canvas. I must say that so far we have been more than lucky with our weather when out.

“On the 7th we left here again, only got back on the 15th, during which time we were trekking about again, chasing after Arabs, and eventually were chased by them, as usual, on our way home. I had really no fighting.... I have told you all this about ourselves, though it is not in the least important, just to show you the sort of life we lead.”

During this week the Regiment marched down to “Hai Town,” a considerable place on the Hai stream, and collected some supplies and Arab arms. Private Massey gives a sad account of the soldiers’ disappointment at the loss of a good meal in a deserted village.

“Here we seized several fowls and killed a few calves, taking only their livers, kidneys, and hearts, which we carried in our water-buckets. We camped close to the village for the night. After unsaddling our horses and watering and feeding were over, we lit a fire and commenced to cook the spoils of victory. But alas! when the water was nearly boiling for tea, and the livers and kidneys were frizzling in the mess-tins over a hot fire, the order was given, ‘Fall in for line picket!’ Of course that was enough to test the temper and patience of a parson, let alone a soldier, and a steady stream of expletives could be heard as we sloped arms and marched away. That night I had biscuits and bully, a poor substitute for fried liver and kidneys.”

It was hard, but Private Massey and his “messing-in chum,” M‘Nulty, had better luck a few days later at another village, and the diary triumphantly records how, “During the night M‘Nulty managed to get several livers, kidneys, and hearts from the slaughtering place, and we had fried liver and kidneys served up hot before réveillé next morning, as well as a mess-tin full of hot cocoa, made from tablets I had sent from England.”

Private Hugh H. Mortimer—January 18.—“Round about the back of beyond. Yours of the 5th ulto. duly to hand about five or six days ago. I say about, because one has no idea as to days and dates, &c., out here, Sundays included. Sometimes we get a volunteer Church parade when things are quiet, but that has been very seldom of late. The last one we had, last Sunday but one, I volunteered for one the night before, but what ho! the parade was for 11 A.M., and we had been on the trek reconnoitring and Arab-chasing five hours by then. We are quite seasoned hands at these quick turn-outs now; often we’re all bivouacked down, giving it the bells in Snore Land, unless it happens to be your turn for guard, then somebody strolls round in a quiet hurry, kicks the sergeant in the ribs, and whispers, ‘Turn out at once; parade two hundred yards west of camp midnight.’ The kicks, &c., are passed on, and we are all saddled up, transport packed, &c., &c., and perhaps three or four miles away in less than an hour, and all that done in the dark, and no noise above a whisper, unless somebody gets a kick in the seat from a bobbery horse, and then there is some excuse for letting it rip.

“Yes, one day is much of a muchness with the next, unless it is that one has no time to think about what day it happens to be. Often I have asked five or six chaps the date to put in a letter, and then had to consult the orderly sergeant at the finish. Still, I don’t suppose it would make any difference to one’s destination if one happened to snuff it on a Friday or Sunday. We get in bags of warm spots now ever since we came right up, about two months ago. Sort of places that make the short hairs stand out on the back of the neck, and wonder if the next 12-pounder or so on has your number on it. I thought I knew a bit of what it feels to sit in a trench with them coming over in France, but galloping about in open country with shrapnel flying about licks it hollow. I saw one drop in a machine-gun section about fifteen yards on my right some fortnight ago, and that one bagged four men and three horses, and then several pieces hummed past me.... Then again the cod was galloping across a hail-storm for a mile from cover to cover. I took the Hotchkiss gun across—I am a nob at Hotchkiss guns now—and the remainder of the section followed some thirty yards behind at the canter. We got five shrapnel quick, and not more than thirty or forty yards away, and two of them in front of me and one behind the two parties. I looked round after the thud, having a good horse, and you talk about dust-flying—well, I thought ‘There’s only me in this section now,’ and made a lightning spurt for a deep donga, dropped into it with a crash, and pulled up. About six seconds afterwards two more crashes, and there appeared the rest of the team, a bit pale and smiling rather sickly smiles, but not a scratch on either men or horses, so you may judge of the luck of the mob. The worst of this country is, you can’t depend on the district for any supplies like you can in France; after we’ve had nothing but a couple of biscuits and one 12-oz. tin of bully from day to day for several days, when we get out of touch with the ration stands, that just seems to be the time when one could do with about four good sit-down knife-and-fork square meals per diem. When it’s like that I go up two extra holes in my belt and try not to think of steak and chips or anything in that line. Never mind, I will make it all up when and if I get home. Roll on that time too. Have just received a letter from Fannie, and she says people at home say, ‘Oh, he’s safe in Mesopotoom,’ but by the H.P. I never felt unsafer in France, Somme or no Somme. You may think that it’s generally understood that the last round is for yourself, before being taken alive by Arabs, although the Turks seem to fight very fair, and there are no tanks to walk behind and no trenches to bob down in.”

Lieutenant Chrystall—January 20.—“To-day we were within one and a half miles of Kut. ‘So near and yet so far,’ and we hear to-day some trenches have been taken, so things are looking up a bit. To-day we got a splendid ration of beef, a sirloin, probably the first one ever seen in Mesopotamia.... One has to be very drastic with these people, the women being just as bad as the men. If you do not take strong steps they will shoot you in the back, even if they have shown the white flag, which they usually do when we are advancing, but when retiring they shoot at you.”

Captain Eve—January 20.—“When we approached our objective, the big native town [Hai Town], they came out with a white flag and pretended to be friendly, and we treated them as such, and bought supplies and things from them, and of course they made a fortune out of us.... Then Sunday, the 14th, we started back. As soon as we had left, our rearguard was heavily attacked (native regiments), and we had some casualties, and were very much delayed, and the Regiment sent to their support, but had very little to do.”

January 26.—“I wish I could tell you really all about things out here, but it is quite impossible. Only I do wish now above all else that I could have gone to Infantry or gunners. I have slowly but surely come to the conviction that we are years out of date, and entirely or almost entirely useless, and will never take a real part again.”

2nd Lieutenant J. O. P. Clarkson—February 2.—“Since my last letter we have done quite a bit. First we tried to go round the Pushtikuh Mountains,25 so early one morning we started off in order to cross the bridge. It took us over two hours to get across, and then we were the leading unit of the 2nd Brigade. We went past a fort to the Wadi river for water, and then pushed on to try and cross the marsh. But we got hopelessly bogged, at least the guns and the transport did, although they had double teams in as it was. Meanwhile we were all anxiously looking at the sky, as there was a devil of a storm coming up. So those people who had crossed the marsh had to recross it again. We camped down just off the marsh, and had scarcely got the lines down when it started to pour with rain. We crawled into our valises (no tents), and slept, and woke up soaking, boots full of water and thoroughly wet. It was still raining. We got up at 5 A.M., and had to wait until they had got all the waggons out of the marsh, some having been left there the evening before. We waited about five hours. Luckily it then turned out fine, and we started back. Our things were more or less dry by the time we got into our camp by the fort about twelve or sixteen miles from the Arab village. We got back to our permanent camp about 2 P.M. next day. The going after that rain was very heavy, and both men and horses came in very tired. We had a very short rest and now are out again.”

The Regiment had returned on the 27th January to the Hai river, and from there during the following week made several reconnaissances to the westward, beyond Kut, where the Turks had a bridge across the Tigris, and some strong intrenched positions on the south bank. They had been dislodged from some points lower down, but still held on desperately to the westerly bends of the river in order to protect from attack the line of communications of their main force in Sannaiyat. Until the 4th February the Thirteenth, though at times under heavy fire from rifles and machine-guns and artillery, got off practically without loss. Then there was a sharp fight, in which the Cavalry was called upon to act dismounted in conjunction with the Infantry, and the Thirteenth had some casualties. An officer was killed and two wounded, with a few non-commissioned officers and men.

The officer killed, Lieutenant Munster, was much respected in the Regiment, “a very gallant, zealous, and capable officer,” as his Colonel reported. All accounts agree in describing him as a man of exceptional character, who, though young, had already made his mark. Quiet and reserved, with strong religious views, he was spoken of in unusual language by many of those about him. “I am not good at expressing myself,” one of them wrote, “but I may say his daily life was one which I shall try to follow: it was one of doing good to his fellow-men; my admiration for him was unbounded, and my grief worse and more intense than I ever felt in my life.” His death seems to have been due to his unselfish devotion, for having led his men forward and seen all of them under cover preparing for another rush, he walked across the open to avoid exposing one of them in sending a message to another officer, and was shot through the heart. Such was the fire at the moment that his Colonel said: “I judged it inexpedient to attempt to recover his body, and to remove a brother officer, Mr Williams Taylor, and some men who were wounded, until after dark.”

Nor were they the only two to distinguish themselves on this day. Captain Robinson, commanding “B” Squadron, had been wounded in leading the advance shortly before, and Sergeant Tassie of “D” Squadron received the D.C.M. for his coolness and courage in bringing up ammunition when the transport animals were shot down.

Other officers of the Regiment also showed great courage on this day, and it is a temptation to record what was afterwards written of them by an eye-witness—a Captain in one of the Indian regiments of the Brigade.

“Our Brigade was ordered to attack dismounted, Hussars on the left, ourselves in the centre, with Watson’s Horse echeloned to the right rear. This meant that the Hussars had to advance across the open with no cover, whilst we had the cover afforded by the high banks of the nullah. After an advance of about 1400 yards the fire became so heavy that the Hussars decided to left-shoulder and make for the nullah, with the object of working down it and thus coming to assaulting distance. Their casualties had been pretty heavy. They eventually made the nullah in advance of our line, and cleared out some advanced patrols of Turks who were holding it there.

“Captain Willis and I were now sent down by my C.O. to gain touch with the Hussars by working down the nullah.

“I met Captain Newton and asked him who was commanding. He said he was for the moment, because Captain Eve and Captain Steele were outside, and he was reorganising the men preparatory to making a further advance.26 Just as he spoke a renewed burst of machine-gun and rifle fire made me look over the top to see what was happening. I saw Eve and Steele helping in a wounded man who had been hit in the leg. The man had an arm round each of their necks. The Turks furiously opened up at them, and I don’t know how they got away, for the ground all round was being thrown up by bullets.

“I don’t think Eve realised he was doing anything exceptional, his only concern seemed to be getting the man in without giving him pain. What struck me most was the cool way he handed the man in, carefully caught up the thong of his crop, which he always carried, and then jumped down into the nullah under a perfect hail of machine-gun bullets. He turned to me as if nothing in the world had happened, and we discussed the situation.27

“A few minutes later I went back and brought my squadron forward.

“By this time the C.O. of the Hussars and my own C.O. had arrived, and we all went down the nullah together.

“When we were talking to Eve, a man came up and said that a private of the Hussars was lying about forty yards outside the nullah and shouting for help. My C.O. turned to me and said, ‘See if you can get him in,’ but Eve said, ‘Nonsense, he is a man in my squadron.’ So he and Captain Jeffrey immediately left the cover and finally found the man. The man had only had his arm shattered, so after Eve had spoken to him he got up and they all came in safely....

“Eve realised that it was impossible to leave these wounded men until dark, because we anticipated a counter-attack about dusk, and it was necessary to be hampered as little as possible then.... Also the presence of numerous Arab irregulars made the possibility of leaving our wounded out of the question....

“It was one of the most gallant things I have ever seen, and was just typical of Eve. I know he did not give it another thought, and only considered he had done his duty, but that too is only typical of the man.”

Captain Eve’s own comment upon the day was short:—

“It went very well,” he writes, “but we weren’t allowed to hold on to what we had got, which rather took the gilt off the gingerbread. We had bad luck in officers, as you will have seen, Bob [Captain Robinson] and Williams Taylor being both hit, and poor Munster being killed. But the casualties among the men were very light, and in fact we were very lucky.

“This was undoubtedly from our own point of view the most satisfactory day we have had, though it was only a side-show.”

A letter of the 6th February gives a more detailed account.

Captain Eve—February 6.—“We came under pretty hot rifle and Maxim-gun fire, but not shell-fire. They shelled the guns and the horses in rear but not us. Well, the men are something to be proud of. They just advanced as they should. It was really just like a day on the sand-hills at Meerut. We had very few casualties in our advance, that is among the men, and the Turks did not wait for us in their advanced position, nor again in their first line, which was a big and deep dry canal. We got it fairly hot from enfilade Maxim-gun fire just before we got to this, but we got there all right.... All this time I had been with ‘C’ and ‘D’, the others on my left and behind. Then after we had got settled in our trench ‘B’ came in, and at last ‘A’, and I found I was commanding the lot. I also found poor old ‘B’ had dropped into it badly, Bob shot through the leg (slight), Williams Taylor badly in the thigh, and Munster killed. Barrett was therefore commanding, and only Hill left with them. The rest were all right, though Williams of ‘A’ had a bullet through his hat which made a furrow along the back of his head. I then found our flanks were in the air as neither of the other Regiments was up; but the Turks made no attempt to counter-attack, and we were pretty safe, except that one of their Maxim guns kept firing down the trench. So I couldn’t go any farther without support, and reported by signal. Presently one of the others came up on our right, and our guns got very busy. Then the only bad thing that I saw happened. They tried to send our ammunition pack-horses up to us across the open. They got to within about 200 yards, and then got properly caught by Maxim-gun fire. The men got hit and the horses loose, and then the poor beasts stood, just being shot to death, one going after another. Sergeant Tassie on his own, and I think young Stirling did too, ran out to them across the open, and succeeded in getting one in, and he then went back and brought in ammunition off a horse that had been killed. It was a very fine thing, and I have pushed in his name for a D.C.M....

“The Colonel was delighted with the Regiment, and so was the Brigade.... The men were very pleased with themselves, and I with them. They were just first-class.... Poor old Munster was shot right through the chest and killed instantly. He was such a nice man—very shy and reserved, but a real good sort, and every one is so sorry.

“My best bit of news of all is that Tassie has got the D.C.M. I know how pleased you will be.... He wears the ribbon, but I hope will have it presented in public some time. I am pleased and proud about it.

“Williams had another bullet clean through his helmet on Friday. He was trying to snipe a sniper, and was successful too—killed his man.”

February 16.—“Yesterday, Thursday, we started at 5, breakfast at 4 A.M.—out to the same ground on the left flank. We kept the horses well back, and I was left in charge of them, and had a desperately dull day. However, I missed nothing, as the Division had very little to do except for the gunners. But it was a real good day—the Infantry did well, in fact it was quite a little victory. We completely cleared the south bank—took 1500 prisoners, including fifty officers, two battalion commanders among them, and killed a great number, including most of those trying to get back across the river, as we sank the whole of their pontoons and coracles while crossing. Also we got three of their aeroplanes. It was a good show altogether, and finishes this stage of the operations. The next, as you can see, must be to force the passage of the river and clear them out of Kut on the north.

“This will mean heavy fighting.”

Private Massey, after describing how the enemy tried to get across “in pontoon boats and oracles,” says: “They looked a dejected lot indeed, clothed in rags, no boots, and they had had very little food for some time. They eagerly took cigarettes offered them, and went limping off to the river dock for removal to the prisoners’ camp, resembling as they went a tribe of lame and ragged beggars. But the Turk has a stout heart, is as brave as a lion, and will fight like the very devil on a handful of dates and a morsel of flour.”

Pity that with all his fine qualities, which appeal so strongly to the British soldier, he has not yet learnt to treat his prisoners without brutality.

Captain Eve—February 16.—“I don’t suppose we shall be wanted until we have the crossing secure, but after that we may have some fun.... We, of course, have had nothing to do with it really, but then we are only Cavalry.”

February 19.—“We were in camp two days afterwards (after the action on the 4th), then were out on a foraging expedition on the 7th. On the 9th we were out on reconnaissance again all day and half the night, then had two or three days very bad weather, and on the 14th and 15th had two very long days and nights.

“But the last one was the final successful show which cleared out the Turks from this southern bank altogether. It was quite a good show, but we were sitting out wide on the flank all the time, and had really very little to do with it, and could see nothing. Still, it is quite good, and one feels something is accomplished at last. Now we have far the hardest part in front of us, but we shall do the job all right before long.

“Since the 15th we have been left in peace, and very glad of it we were. The horses begin to look a little better already.

“I have told you all this just to give you an idea how we are worked. Most days we are fifteen to twenty hours under saddle, and short and irregular water, besides long distances, and much night work, worst of all. Our unfortunate horses began to look like shadows, but are recovering a little now, and we have had one batch of very nice remounts, though we are still about one hundred short.