Stalky's Forlorn Hope page 2 (chapters 1 thru 5)

Assembled in a courtyard, surrounded by high mud walls, were gathered some sixty British officers and N.C.O's drawn up in a hollow square awaiting the arrival of their chief, whose name was so familiar, but who had as yet not been seen by any of the group. Down in the valley lay Hamadan, one of the chief cities of Persia, and from the slope of the hill where these men were assembled, a commanding view of the city could be obtained, and of the whole valley which at that time of the year is cloaked with beautiful grass and wild flowers.

The sun by now was extremely hot, and standing at attention tried the spirits of most. There was a cry from the orderly at the gate, and immediately the officer in command called the party to attention, for General Dunsterville, the original "Stalky" of Kipling's famous novel, walked on to the parade ground, and as he passed to the front, all eyes were fixed upon him, the man of their hopes. He glanced round the ranks, and then in a quiet, but commanding voice said, "I think it would be better if we sat under the shade of one of these trees." Leading the way he selected one giving the most shade, sat down and gathered the company round about him. 

"Well, men," he commenced, "I suppose you want to know why you are here; but to begin with, I might as well tell you the truth, and that is the good Shah has just informed me that I must leave Persia with my force immediately. This I do not propose to do, and I have notified his Majesty accordingly, and in addition, told him that I find this country most agreeable to my health and also to my officers and men. I take it that you will find it the same, and anticipated that such would be your opinion when I replied for myself and on your behalf. I might say that I also added that, if he desired that we should go, the only thing left for him to do was simply to come and put us out. I admit that there are less than a hundred of us here even now, but we have an old Russian armoured car, together with a driver, a few machine guns, one or two Ford cars, and each of you have a rifle with a few hundred rounds of ammunition. On the other hand, there is such a thing in existence as a Persian army. Still we are of the right stuff, even though we hail from the four corners of the earth. 

"Now, about your job! I want you to be prepared for anything that you may be called upon to do. I want the sergeants to do, if necessary, privates' jobs, and the officers, lance corporals’. The job is big, but you all have big hearts and I feel sure will overcome every obstacle. Some, I hope, will go to the Caucasus; others will have to remain behind in Persia. I went to Enzeli myself before the roads were blocked by the snows, and had rather a pleasant trip, even though my friends, the Bolsheviks, did not like me at first. I had no sooner arrived in that fine town when the local committee ordered me to present myself at once to their presence. I hardly felt disposed to answer this summons, so rested.

Some little time later, they came round to my house in a body, and demanded that I should come forward at once, asking by what right I was in Russia. Seeing that their attitude was an ugly one, I suggested that it would be much nicer if we all came inside and discussed the question while sitting in easy chairs. Having got them all seated and puffing away at Russian cigarettes, which I provided, we got to business. "'I am here,' I said, 'as head of a British Mission to see conditions for myself and help you, if possible, where able,' and then proceeded to applaud the results of the Revolution. This pleased my guests immensely, who at once considered that I was second only to themselves and, after more friendly exchanges, they left thinking that I was a very fine fellow indeed. I deemed it time to leave as soon as possible, seeing that I only had a few men with me, and that fortune cannot be played with too long. 

So while they went out the front door and down the main street, I packed my gear and cleared out by the back entrance as it were, and, after a certain amount of bargaining, got clear of those regions. Eventually I found myself back here once more with a mere handful of men, and decided to wait until you chaps came along.  "This is the first party from the other fronts, and more are on their way, so I purpose to commence work immediately and push on with the job, knowing that I can rely on your 
hearty co-operation in whatever we undertake. I therefore wish you good luck in the ventures ahead and in all that we undertake." 

That was enough for us. We knew that we had a man of rare quality and stern determination to lead us, and whatever he would ask of us would be more than attempted.

January, 1918, found the war dragging on much the same as during the last three and a half years with a credit balance in favour, if anything, of Brother Boche. The Russians had advanced and retired, pushed forward again in places to be again bumped back. The French had stopped the rush at Verdun, and the British, together with their French Allies, had been pounding the Germans on the Somme, pushing him back to the famous Hindenburg line and again bumped him up north, driving him back to the Passchendaele Ridge, but still there was no sign of any weakening in the enemy's line. The world was then flabbergasted by the Russian Revolution and that nation's withdrawal as a fighting force. 

Those in high places saw the great danger of India after this debacle, when the roads leading from Persia and the Caucasus to India were left open to the Brother Boche and his Ally, the gentle Turk; and probably a general survey of operations in the near east is advisable at this stage to understand the objects of the Dunsterville force sent to Northern Persia and the Caucasus. 

As soon as possible after war had been declared by Great Britain on the Central Powers, the first Mesopotamian Division was sent out from India. After severe fighting and long marches under the glare of the Mesopotamian sun, General Townshend, hampered by the lack of adequate supplies, and the enormous length of his lines of communication, eventually reached Ctesiphon. After defeating the Turks there, he was compelled to fall back on Kut-el-Amara, and after putting up the well-known heroic fight, he was surrounded by the enemy and forced to capitulate. 

No sooner had this force ceased to exist as a fighting unit in the field than another, much stronger and better equipped, replaced it. Although they failed in the earlier stages to relieve Townshend, they eventually carried Baghdad and the foothills beyond. During this fighting, the Russians under the Grand Duke Nicholas, had steadily pushed ahead, driving the Turks out of Armenia and holding a line from Trebizond to Kirmanshah. When the British troops established their line beyond the Dialia River, touch was maintained with the Russians by mounted patrols. Thus the roads leading from the Caucasus and Turkey to India were denied to the enemy. 

The Palestine force had steadily pushed ahead until a line had been established along the Jordan Valley, whence it will be seen that the Turk was more or less hemmed in. When the Russians pulled out, a glance at .the map of the Near East will show that the three main roads running from Turkey to India were left unguarded. Bearing in mind that at this time the Persians and Afghans were allied by religion to the Turk and never over friendly towards the British, a great danger, therefore, menaced British rule in India.

If, since the Mutiny, Great Britain was ever in danger of losing India, it was at this time, as hundreds of Turkish-German envoys could be poured into these countries bordering on Northern India, and, with supplies of German gold, could easily create a rising amongst the wild Northern tribes. 

Luckily for Great Britain, these regions are one mass of mountains, and so we were. sure of at least six months' delay, owing to the passes becoming snow-bound during the winter months. If we worked quickly, a force could be got up through Mesopotamia to the Persian foothills on the frontier at about the time when the snow began to clear, giving us an equal chance with the Turks in the race through Persia to gain dominion there. 

One of Germany's pet plans was to gain control of the Near East, so that, in the event of war, she would be close enough to India to create sufficient trouble to make our position extremely uncomfortable in our great dominion out East. Years before the war, the Kaiser and his followers saw this. and the be-laurelled trip of the Kaiser throughout the Near East is well remembered by all. The outcome was his precious Berlin-Baghdad railway scheme, which was intended to run from Berlin through Constantinople, along the Tigris Valley to Baghdad, thence across the Euphrates Valley to the head of the Persian Gulf. 

Mr. Winston Churchill must be given immense credit for his far-sighted policy at this time, in that he bought up, on behalf of Great Britain, the oil fields at the head of the Persian Gulf. This was the first spoke in the German wheel of fortune out East, since Great Britain, holding the land near Basra and the Persian Gulf, prevented the German line from passing that important city and finding for its terminus the still waters of the Tigris River as it enters the Persian Gulf. This, however, did not daunt the Hun who swung the line from the Tigris River down south to Koweit Harbour. 

With the capture of Baghdad, the progress of this line was severely hampered, and for a time his dream of creating trouble in India was at a standstill. But with the open roads of Persia, the great project was once more revived, and the opportunity of creating a diversion in India, which would mean the withdrawal of British troops from France, at a time when every man was required, was an opportunity that the Boche would not let slip, And so the spring of 1918 would see the great race between Great Britain and Germany, one in the endeavour to block the roads, the other in attempting to get through to Afghanistan in order to carry out his cherished plan. 

It should be remembered that, at this stage of the war, few men could be spared from the other theatres of war by Great Britain, and that our only way into Persia was by Mesopotamia. Seeing that the Western Frontier of Persia is barred by great barriers of mountains, the idea of getting an army through was impracticable. Even though a force might be marched through these mountains into the heart of Persia, it would be impossible to maintain them in the field as all supplies would have to come, first by river to Baghdad, then on to the Persian border, and from there onwards all food, ammunition and guns would have to be packed through on mules and camels. Thus the idea of getting a force there was well nigh impossible, and the hope of maintaining them in the field was altogether out of the question. 

The danger to India was seen at the very outset by those in authority in the War Office, and, as the Russian army collapsed and melted away, so British agents bought up all their guns, rifles, ammunition and war-like stores, concentrating them in various places throughout the Caucasus. 

At this time little was known of the fighting qualities of the Armenians and the kindred Christian tribes throughout the Caucasus, or of the fidelity of the Russians and Cossacks of Southern Russia to the Allied cause. 

On this gamble all hopes were centred, and approximately one hundred and twenty officers and two hundred and fifty sergeants were to be sent forward through Persia to the Caucasus with orders to raise an army to. be equipped with the Russian material which had been bought by our agents. Knowing nothing of this great project, Divisional Commanders in France, Salonika, Palestine and Mesopotamia received instructions to nominate certain men whose qualities as leaders of men, and whose adaptability to war, under the most adverse circumstances had been proved. 

Early in January some twenty Australian officers were gathered at Corps Headquarters in response to their volunteering to undertake a desperate venture which would probably cost them their lives. They were ushered into a large room of the old Chateau where Corps Headquarters was situated, and there General Byron of South Africa, who had been sent out by the War Office, put the same question to them; namely, 

"Gentlemen, are you prepared to undertake a desperate venture which. will probably cost you your lives, but, if successful, will mean everything at this stage of the war to the British Empire?" Naturally the first question asked by each was, 

"Well, what's the job?" which elicited the reply, "I am sorry, but I cannot tell you." 

"Well, where is the job?" which again was answered in the same manner. 

After so many years of war, on Gallipoli and in France, especially through the fighting of the Somme and Flanders, nothing could possibly be worse than that of the past, so nineteen of us accepted the proposition and were told to go to our units and there await further orders. 

On January 12th, each of us received our marching orders with instructions to report at once to A.I.F. Headquarters, London. There were three of us from the 2nd Australian Division: Lieut. Turner, M.C., 27th Battalion, Lieut. Hitchcock, D.C.M., 6th Machine Gun Company, and myself, and on informing General Smythe, V.C., who commanded our Division, that we had to leave next morning, he at once ordered a car to be placed at our disposal. In the early hours of January 12th, we three left Flanders for one of the Channel ports. 

The day was indeed in keeping with our stay of two years in France. The snow lay on the ground about one foot thick and to add to the discomfort of this, combined with the slush on the road, snow fell without ceasing during the four hours' journey to Boulogne, and it was indeed a weary, frozen, mud-bespattered trio that reported at Horseferry Road at 4 p.m. on that day. We were then told to go home and report at 10 a.m. next morning at the Tower of London. 

In due course we all assembled at the Tower, and there had to undergo the strictest of strict medical examinations. It was indeed gratifying to know that after so much war, one could pass without a blemish. Later in the afternoon, we dismissed for the day with orders to report at 10 a.m. next morning. This we did, and received lists of clothing to buy which included a tropical outfit together with an arctic, such as fur coats, caps, mittens, and boots. We were instructed to buy not only this, but sufficient to last for at least two years? What hope had we of even guessing where we were bound for, when given orders to buy outfits of such complete contrast, together with a supply of medicine, all of which had to last us for two years? Seeing that we were not prophets or seers, we simply read through the list, looked at each other and said, "Well, how about a spot?" and then booked seats for the theatre that night, determined at all events to make the most of the few days we were likely to have in London. 

After accumulating all this gear (which cost about £80; the Government allowance was somewhere near £25, the remainder coming from our own pockets), we were told to parade to be reviewed by Sir William Robertson, Chief of the Imperial General Staff. This in due course we did, and we were drawn up according to Dominions, Imperials in front, behind which in order were the Australians, Canadians, New Zealanders, and South Africans. While waiting, about a dozen Russian officers marched on to the parade ground, whose presence created a busy five minutes in laying odds as to what part of Russia we were bound for. 

Shortly afterwards, General Sir William Robertson walked on to the parade ground, and, after passing throughout the ranks, drew us up in a hollow square facing the steps leading to the Barracks, from the top of which he addressed us. After saying many nice things, he concluded by saying, "Gentlemen, I am indeed pleased to see you, for I recognise that before me I see gathered from the Imperial Army and the troops of the various Dominions, the cream of the British Army, and in whatever you undertake, I wish you good luck and God speed." 

We were then given leave until the 28th, with instructions to leave our addresses with the officials at the Tower. On reporting once more, we were assembled in a large room of the barracks and behind closed doors, a Colonel from the War Office unfolded to us the proposed plan of operations, which did not leave much wanting in the way of adventure. The next day, January 29th, we were ordered to have our bag and baggage at the station ready to leave England. 

At 11.30 a.m., on January 29th, 1918, we were all assembled on Victoria Station, and, after a busy half hour loading the baggage on to the train, we moved out with the good wishes of those who came to see us off, which not only included friends and relatives, but representatives from the War Office and the various Dominion Headquarters. 

Southampton was reached in due course, and at 7.3o p.m. all were aboard, and the boat lifted anchor and moved out of the harbour for France. We disembarked at Cherbourg at 6 a.m. next morning, and immediately went into camp, and there for the first time came in contact one with the other. One looks back on those few days when each found the true value of the other fellow, and it was with high spirits that we all settled down, determined to do the best, one towards the other. Of all the mingling of men that this world has seen there was never a finer gathering of real men than the party one was 
privileged to belong. There one rubbed shoulders with a Canadian from out West, the South African from the lone veldts, and the New Zealander from good old Pig Island, and I suppose they thought as much of the Australians as the Australians thought of them. 

Orders were received to entrain on the afternoon of the 31st, and after much hard work in loading heavy boxes and baggage, we set off for Taranto. The weather in Northern France was at this time of the year extremely cold but as we journeyed further south, we experienced more congenial days. After every couple of days, we would be taken off the train and put into a rest camp for twenty-four hours. This indeed was a we/come change from being crowded four together in about a fifth-class railway carriage in which we attempted to live, eat and sleep. The opportunity of a hot bath and the 
purchase of tin food was not missed on arrival at one of these camps. 

By stages we went further south through Marseilles, Nice, across Northern Italy, until we eventually reached Taranto, and after waiting a couple of days, the outfit embarked on the "Malwa" on the 11th February. The three days' trip across the Mediterranean was delightful and, to while away the time, Russian classes were commenced, bridge parties gathered, and together with the company of some forty nurses, life was worth living. 

Should anyone want to grow out of their hats in a remarkably short space of time, there is one little hobby I should advise them to take up, and that is learning Russian. Still, knowing that this language would be of immense value to us, we put up with the headache--the result of those few hours' study each day. 

On February 16th, we disembarked and entrained at Alexandria, where we left at nightfall, arriving at Suez about 6 a.m, next morning. For me a strange coincidence occurred here. We got off the train and marched down to the quay, and there saw at a distance the ship on which we had to embark. There was something strangely familiar about the old tub that at once attracted my attention. She was no other than the old "Nile," the boat that saved the 24th Battalion from the submarine on the way to Gallipoli, when the "Southland" was torpedoed. At that time the whole 6th Brigade were bound for the Peninsula, the 24th Battalion being in the leading boat, the "Nile", with the 21st Battalion on the "Southland" a few miles in the rear. 

Suddenly the old tub put on full speed ahead and continued until well into the night, during which time she circled round one of the small islands three times. The reason of this was unknown at first, but on arrival at Lemnos the skipper informed us that he had sighted the submarine and, in order to baffle the enemy, had adopted these tactics. The "Southland," not being so fast, had unfortunately stopped the tin fish. The heroic conduct of the men on board that vessel is known to all. With these thoughts, and the knowledge that she had saved us in my first venture, I took it to be a good omen that she should be the vessel that would carry me on my last and greatest venture. 

On February 17th, we up-anchored and moved out from the land of Sun, Sand, and Sorrow, and after an uneventful voyage, in which we only stopped once (at a place called Henjan in order to coal), we eventually reached the head of the Persian Gulf, and there remained outside the bar. We waited until a smaller steamer, the "Erin Pura," came alongside, to which boat we transferred, awaiting the favourable turn of the tide in order to cross the bar over which we had to pass to reach the Shat-el-Arab. This was accomplished safely during the night, and at daybreak we all turned out to get a view of the magnificent river of Mesopotamia. 

For miles it is about a mile and a half across, and as we moved slowly up the stream, place after place of interest came into view. The banks are lined with date palms which grow in great abundance. Numerous vessels of every description moved either up or down the river -- transports of troops, cargo vessels with Army Service Stores, and the hospital ship, laden with the sick and wounded. Hugging the banks were huge Arab dhows, laden with the merchandise of the country, being towed by natives who hauled these primitive barques with great ropes attached either round the head or to the waist. 

Now and then a smaller canoe, propelled by poles, would be passed. All of this was indeed a restful change to the eye after being a couple of weeks at sea. About noon we arrived at a point where the Mahamarah joined the great stream, and it was here that the Turks, in their endeavour to frustrate the British in their earlier operations, sank two steamers. The attempt to block the stream failed since, as the boats sank, the force of the water swung them round out of the main channel and beyond the necessity of a little extra caution on the part of the pilot, this did no damage. Eventually we reached Bazra, where we were to disembark. After a great deal of hurry and bustle all stores and personal kit were got ashore, and small parties were told off to the various camps. 

Mesopotamia, the land of the "Arabian Nights Entertainment" which we had read so much about, the place of so many visions, was here stretching for hundreds of miles before us. When one is camped under canvas at that time of the year, a great many of its charms pass away. It rained continuously for three or four days. The land, being baked and dry, and the roads pounded to dust by the thousands of wagons that passed over them during the summer months, were naturally turned into quagmires after a few days' steady rain. The tents, which had been pitched in the open plain where inadequate arrangements for drainage had been made during the summer months, were soon about three or four inches deep in mud and water, but on active service, comfort and .contentment are generally found after the scraping away of such trifles. Drains were dug and sleeping places banked up to such a pitch of perfection that the heavens could do their worst without any fear of the tents being swamped out. 

Near by was an Officers' Club, which never did such a booming trade in all its history as when the members of this "Hush-hush" party, as we were called, sojourned nearby. If ever a piano required attention it was after this party left as, night after night until well on into the early hours of morning, its soul was worked out of it by some pianist who reckoned he knew all about the make-up of such instruments in the production of sufficient noise to enable some other fellow who reckoned he knew all about singing to inflict pain and punishment upon the hearers. Anyhow it was all a change, and meant good fellowship, and that means everything. 

The days, however, were not passed in such an easy manner, as at once swords were issued, and all had to turn to learn the uses and misuses of that very excellent weapon. It can be said that at that time most of us knew as much about a sword as a sword knew about us. Anyhow, after pointing and parrying, right, left, high and low, and enduring hours of trying to work with painful wrists, we learnt a good deal. Russian classes were continued and, as a relief to the sore-wrist business, the work that developed very thick heads was substituted. 

The news of our arrival soon spread and every General within fifty miles signified his intention of coming along to see us. This meant that everybody had to turn out, spick and span, on the parade ground to be reviewed by the All-Highest, when many very nice things were said to each of us, but the unspoken desire of all was that there were fewer Generals on earth to "butt in" upon our time which was so urgently needed for training for the great work ahead. Now and then we were allowed an afternoon off in order to see the sights of the city, and each of us took the advantage of going to the 
Bazra, one of the chief cities of Mesopotamia, and destined, I believe, to be one of the biggest in that land on account of its suitability as a port. Miles of wharves and shipping facilities have been erected in order to land stores at this place which served as the Base Depot. 

Here one sees the Arab in his native land. In build he is about medium height, dark complexioned, with clear piercing eyes, set in an intelligent face. His dress is strikingly picturesque, consisting of flowing white robes, with a head dress composed of a cloth fastened to the head with bands of fancy cord. The town itself is typically eastern. One walks along its narrow, winding streets which are roofed from one side to the other, and, here and there, holes are pierced, throwing a dim light on to the goods and chattels exposed for sale. 

The streets themselves are hardly wider than a footpath, yet strings of mules, horse-drawn carriages and horsemen move rapidly along, the drivers and riders clearing a passage by shouting at the top of their voices. As in all eastern cities the shops are small and crammed with tawdry ware. Here one sees cheap Manchester goods and cheapjack Birmingham ware exhibited in great profusion. The women in most cases are heavily veiled, but, like other parts of the world, with the advent of Western  civilisation, the superstition of the East is being thrown off, and gradually the women are doing away with their face coverings.

Among the most interesting sights of the city are the canals. Hundreds of years ago these were cut out from the main river and were run far inland in order to irrigate the surrounding country, and to be used also as a means of bringing to the city, goods from elsewhere, and sending out the products of the country. These canals teem with small native boats, propelled by poles, one man, working from the boat's nose, pushes the pole into the muddy bottom and walks along the narrow gunwale facing the stern, for three parts of the boat's length. The native in the rear, poles from the stern and is responsible for the steering of this twelve-foot narrow canoe. 

Owing to the cramped, crowded condition of the stream, it has become an art in which only the native, reared from childhood to his job, is the only proficient handler of such craft. Though a thousand years behind the times in customs and conditions, here and there a flash of Western civilisation gleams forth, and of all the surprises of an Eastern city, a cinema show provides the best. Standing a little way back from one of the main streets there stood a big hall on which was placarded the usual picture show advertisements. 

Not having seen such a show for months, we decided to have a look. The main part of the hall was filled with rough, unfinished forms, the better ones having a pole or two rigged tip as a back. A balcony ran around three sides, the back one, being bigger and fitted with seats made from the boards of packing cases, was considered to be the best, and the portion which the European population patronised. The show itself suited our tastes admirably, as one could smoke throughout the performance and order coffee at frequent intervals. At the conclusion of each picture, the audience cheered itself to a standstill, particularly when one, depicting British troops in training, was preceded by throwing on to the screen a portrait of King George. 

He was immediately recognised, and a more enthusiastic reception could not be given by any John Bull audience. Our time was more than fully occupied during our few weeks' stay here, though our souls chafed to be up and doing. Drill and preparation, no matter how irksome, has its place and is essential as a beginning to any great enterprise. Knowing from past experience that such preparatory work was necessary, each vied with the other to "do or burst." 

Orders were issued on March 8th, for the first party to move on to Amara, a large town on the Tigris, midway between Bazra and Baghdad, and next day this detachment moved out. Those of us who remained behind cursed our luck at being amongst, as we termed them, "the unfortunates," but our turn came on the 17th, when we boarded one of the river paddle-boats, not unlike those used for pleasure trips in various parts of the world. 

After an immense amount of energy and perspiration had been expended on yelling to the Arabs, placing aboard our personal kit and stores, we were ready to move. Lashed to either side of the steamer was a big barge, on one of which was placed all the baggage. The N.C.O's found accommodation in the other, while the officers occupied the steamer. 

No such luxuries as beds were aboard, each person having so many feet of deck space allotted, and in this he slept, worked and had his being. The saloon (spare the name) was a partitioned-off, roofed-in portion of the deck on which there were a couple of tables and some chairs. If lucky or early one was present at the first seating, if not, then it was a case of waiting your turn. Such was our home to be for about two weeks, and, though the deck space prevented us from carrying on with sword exercises, there was room enough to continue the Russian classes. 

The winding nature of the river provided an ever-changing view of scenery, though the banks themselves were lined with the inevitable Mesopotamian date palm. 

Next day we entered the Tigris proper, leaving the Euphrates on our left. What old scenes and recollections of Sunday School days these ancient rivers bring back to one's mind, the conquest of Palestine by Cyrus and the deportation of the Jews to the banks of the noble Euphrates. As one looked across the wide waters and winding turns, the cries of the Jews in the days of that bondage seemed to be echoed by the swirl of the passing waters. Thoughts pass through the brain in rapid succession, and one wonders if it was here that Ezra or his fellow-patriots thought out the scheme of re-building Jerusalem. 

Next day we pass this grand old man's tomb, revered by Christian and Mohammedan alike. It stands on the right bank of the Tigris and from a mile off it can be seen flashing forth its blue shimmer of light from between the ring of palms that surround it. The dome and as much of the structure as can be seen over the high square mud walls is covered with blue porcelain tiles and is in a wonderful state of preservation, no doubt due to the fact that Ezra is reckoned among the great men of the Mohammedan religion which solicits the caring eye and hand of the Arab.

Day after day we followed the winding course of the stream along the wide stretches of water and through the Narrows, so called on account of the nearness of the banks through which the rushing waters swirl like a mountain torrent. Occasionally we pulled into one of the banks in order to give the engines a spell. 

Sports were organised, and from the Colonel to the youngest sergeant all competed in the various events. Though our worthy Colonel was elderly, he at all events provided a certain amount of amusement when stripped for the fray. Coatless, hatless, and with collar and leggings thrown aside, he looked the personification of determination. After a couple of hours of such strenuous pastime we were glad to be aboard again and once more on the move. 

A few hours were spent at Amara, renowned for its copper and brass workers. The secret of this craft is handed down from father to son, generation after generation, and though Japan places tons of such work on the market, it bears no comparison with the work of the Amara Arab. 

A few days later we reached Kut-el-Amara, the town of Townshend's last stand. The village itself crowns a small knoll on the left bank, and can be seen from miles off. The river takes a big bend here, and in one sense proves an excellent barricade, though if crossed and the ground held, it becomes a trap to the beleaguered. 

We went ashore at this place for a few hours and rambled over the battlefield and through the British and Turkish trenches. The Turks, to commemorate for all time their victory, commenced building a giant obelisk on a big rock foundation, and at each of the four corners was placed a captured British gun. Unfortunately for themselves, they were not granted sufficient time to complete their emblem of triumph, as the relieving force under General Maude soon turned our gloom into sunshine and re-captured Kut. 

A few days later Ctesiphon was reached or rather, the ruins of that ancient capital where Townsend defeated the Turks before falling back to Kut. Only the ruins of the King's Palace stands, and the huge arch towers up to a height of some 200 feet, with a breadth of approximately 150 feet. Its magnitude creates a great impression as, though so big, it is composed almost entirely of small baked bricks girded together with huge slabs of timber. Like the great Pyramid, its present occupants are the sparrow and his kind - once the abode of the mighty, now the resting place of the humble.