The Incomparable 29th and the "River Clyde" Part 13
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The 29th Division, which left Gallipoli less than a week ago, are ordered back already, before they have time to benefit much by the change. An officer of the Dublins was lamenting about this to me, and compared his men with Kitchener's army, which is largely represented here, being on their way to the Front for the first time. All the old campaigners are thin, hollow-eyed and haggard. I know I myself have lost over a stone weight, and feel very tired--to do anything is an exertion.
Here the heat is intense, and we have not a particle of shade, there being no trees where we are, but this morning we are arranging about tents, and in a few hours we may be able to escape from the sun's perpendicular rays. I hope within the next day or two to explore part of the island and its villages. The natives are inclined to be very friendly, the Greek who brought me the fruit absolutely refused payment, saying, "It's for the commander, he take Constantinople and me give him this". I promised to take it in less than no time. If I could fulfil my promise the Greek would have the best of the bargain, but this has been characteristic of the race from all time.
Towards evening Thomson and I walked to Mudros by a back road, and were fascinated with the primitive ways of the natives. Their mode of thres.h.i.+ng in particular interested us. We wandered through the village, meeting crowds of native men, women, and children, the men mostly squatting in front of dirty cafes, or lounging inside, sipping, as far as I could make out, syrup and soda water. This love of syrup I have seen in Holland and Belgium and in France, and I fancy is universal in hot countries. We visited the church, which I had been in three months before. An old verger--for such I took him to be--took us round, a venerable old fellow with kindly eyes, and long beard, long robe, and tall brimless hat. He pointed out everything, talking a mixture of French and Greek; showed us the Bible on the altar, a beautiful silver covered tome, the various pictures, etc., and the pulpit of the "Episcopos". "Oh, the bishop," said I. "No, no, Castro Episcopos." He meant the Bishop, who perhaps pays the place periodic visits, his palace being in Castro, the largest town on the island. A candle--a mere taper--had been lighted for each of us on entering, and was set in a circular candlestick. For this performance we were expected to pay of course. Before leaving I dropped a piastre (2-1/2d.) into a plate, and handed Thomson another, but he finding he had three British pennies dropped all in, greatly to the delight of our guide into whose pocket all this wealth went. "Merci, merci," says the old chap who dives for another candle, and lit a second for the good of Thomson's soul.
_July 22nd._--Thomson and I set off after breakfast to Rosapool, a village to the N.E. On the way we studied the method of thres.h.i.+ng the wheat, which seems to be occupying the full time of every member of the families at this time. The thres.h.i.+ng floor on which the operation is conducted is twenty yards across, circular and laid with flat stones. About sufficient sheaves to form half a dozen of our "stooks"
at home is evenly spread on the floor, while a pair of oxen draw a sledge made of two stout boards, about 5 feet long, turned up at the point, and studded most carefully with flints projecting fully half an inch. The driver, who is usually a woman, stands on this and directs the cattle round and round, prodding them freely with a goad. Some of the larger floors have a second team: several I saw to-day consisting of two donkeys and a pony. These were not muzzled like the oxen, they had no sledge, their hoofs doing the work, and they were kept going round at a good pace. The winnowing follows, after the whole is reduced almost to snuff. This is carried out by throwing shovelfuls in the air, the slight breeze we have to-day carrying the pounded straw away and leaving the heavy grain.
Rosapool is off the beaten track and is not much spoiled by the present influx of men. We managed to get a drink of excellent beer--Pilsner, from Athens--the old fellow who served us explaining that he had no right to let us have it, but as soon as a military policeman who was standing at his door, moved on we were placed on chairs at a small table and had our repast. We visited the church which was not unlike the bigger one at Mudros. With her head on the doorstep was a wizened old woman fast asleep, guarding three piles of salt she had laid out to dry in the sun. She got on her haunches, mumbled to us in a friendly way, and showed us how she worked her spinning machine, which she had with her. This consisted of a pole about 2 feet high, with a base which she clutched with her great, coa.r.s.e, bare toes, and as she teased out the wool from the bunch at the top she twirled a short spindle with her right hand making a remarkably even thread.
We next climbed a hill near this, which we found rough and rugged, as every hill here is. It was scorched absolutely brown, thistles--especially yellow-flowered ones--alone showing signs of life, along with a pretty, dwarf Dianthus. The rocks are covered with an orange-coloured lichen which gives them a warm colour. When lying on the top I could almost imagine myself in Scotland, if I kept my eyes above the villages and valleys, and viewed the hill-tops only. Away to the north of us was a large, pure white lagoon, shut off from the sea by a sandbar. No doubt this was a layer of salt formed the same way as the inland lakes with their salt we were accustomed to at Mex, and it was likely from this the "old wifie" had got her salt.
Every village has its fig trees, the largest under 20 feet high, their large leaves rich green and luscious. Almost every house has one or more of these. There is but one pattern for their houses, a square box two storeys high, often with a bit of balcony covered with vines. The general colour of a village is grey, cold, and forbidding, but this is relieved by the fig trees, and the bright green and blue paint many use on their doors and windows. Everything is primitive, and long may it remain so; all seem happy and contented on the small pittance any of them can earn. There is no attempt at farming on anything but the smallest scale.
Was it in Lemnos, the aegean Isle, Milton lands Satan when thrown out of Heaven?
We hear that Achi Baba was to be stormed to-day, but we do not believe it. Big gunfire is distinctly heard at this distance (over 40 miles) and we have heard but a very few shots. Last night the booming was constant for a time.
_July 23rd._--To-day we had a route march of nearly twelve miles, the first since we left England. We went through Rosapool to the northern sh.o.r.e of Lemnos, where the men bathed and rested for an hour. We found a fine beach of silver sand. We reached camp a little after 2, with excellent appet.i.tes. By a little clever manoeuvring--and with the aid of Sergeant-Major Shaw--Kellas and I managed to reach Rosapool while the men rested outside, and we had a long, cooling drink of Pilsner.
_July 24th._--Went over almost every street in Mudros this morning.
There were five of us, and we made many purchases for our mess--white wine, plums, Turkish delight, preserved fruit, tomatoes, etc. In the evening Thomson and I inoculated every one in camp against cholera--my second dose.
_July 25th._--When we landed at Lemnos we chanced to meet Padre Komlosy, who has looked us up in camp a time or two since. He had a service at 10 for us and the Welsh Fusiliers who are on their way to Gallipoli for the first time. These Welshmen wear a c.o.c.kade of white feathers in their helmets and the officers three black ribbons down their backs, from below their coat collars. Padre Hardie also visited us in the evening.
H.Q. of the lines of communication is on the "Aragon," a magnificent s.h.i.+p lying in Lemnos harbour. The "Aragon" is notorious for its number of monocles. Up to now any officer has been allowed to go on board to any meal on payment, but evidently that privilege is about to be stopped. If anyone went in his grimy, war-worn garments, and many now have nothing else, he was glowered at by these toffs, as if he had no right to be there. Besides, many officers who were not sick enough to enter a hospital, but too ill to carry on at the Front, were sent there for a rest. These too were attacked by these fellows and told that if they were ill they should be on a hospital s.h.i.+p or if not ill they ought to be at the Front. These men have no intention themselves of going nearer the Front, they are all fat and sleek and live on the fat of the land, are faultlessly dressed, and strut about with their monocles, looking with contempt on all the poor devils who are doing the dirty work. Every one is now up in arms against them.
In the evening the CO., Kellas, and I climbed a rocky hill of about 800 feet, lying to the east. The view of the harbour with over 100 big s.h.i.+ps, and about as many small craft was very fine in its setting of rugged hills. We watched the sun go down in all his glory on the distant side of the island.
_July 27th._--Still in Lemnos. There has been nothing doing to-day. We lie about camp a good deal where we have an abundance of light literature, sheltering under two large, double-lined Indian tents we were lucky enough to secure the day after our arrival. Yesterday we had a mail, which of course had to go to Gallipoli first, and was delayed at least a week by this short double journey.
At 9 a.m. Fiddes and I took the men for a route march through the village of Romano and up a hill beyond.
_July 28th._--Another slow day. I amused myself in the morning with a fine specimen of a tarantula which I caught crawling up a tent. I had seen three others in Gallipoli but this was the finest of all. Kellas and I had a praying mantis in a large tin box with gauze as a lid so that we might watch him at his devotions. The mantis reminds one of a small, green monkey, the fore pair of legs being well developed and used in prehension. A large number of the insects we have are of the gra.s.shopper tribe with well-developed hind-legs. The tarantula was put beside the mantis and he pounced on him like a cat at a mouse, seized him round the middle and with his great mandibles chewed right along to his head, squeezing every drop of juice out of him. Nothing was left but a few dry pellets. Kellas next gave him about a dozen flies and he found room for the lot. These he sprawled at with his fore-legs, rarely missing a dart, keeping his mouth open till a fly was grabbed and forced between his jaws. He has had another meal of flies and looks well satisfied with the easy way in which he has been able to capture his prey to-day, and is much inclined to sleep.
An aeroplane crossed directly over us at 4.15 this morning, coming from the S.W., probably Smyrna. It was flying at a moderate height, and was quite visible in the dim light. After completely crossing the harbour and taking careful note of our s.h.i.+pping, it turned and dropped a bomb at something about the harbour entrance. And all this happened without a single shot being fired by us--like our watchful authorities!
_July 29th._--To-day I had a very enjoyable tramp with Stephen to the top of a hill, then to Rosapool, which is the only place near where one can quench one's thirst with bitter beer, or even the local sweet wine. All shops are strictly forbidden to sell either, and military police are everywhere on the prowl. Still the trade goes on, a Greek can never refuse money, he will sell his soul rather than miss the chance of making a penny. Our usual place of call is kept by a very knowing and intelligent Greek, but he was from home to-day--gone to Varos, we were told, to buy beer. The son, a boy of eleven or twelve, was in sole charge, a keen little chap as ever lived, with a genuine Greek eye for business, but a fine and intelligent boy, and by taking a seat in the shop for fifteen minutes and threatening to spend the day if necessary, he was at last persuaded to produce a couple of bottles of beer from Salonika, which we found to be really good. The boy has a smattering of English and French, and says he has been at school. I have never seen any sign of a school in any of the villages so far. He says "the English soldier drink, drink, he no good," and shakes his head, as though the national curse would end in our losing the war. We discovered in a corner four barrels of mysterious looking stuff that attracted flies. These were full of cheese floating in water, little more than stiff curd, but palatable, and this along with biscuits and beer made an enjoyable little lunch. Then we set off for "home," Stephen carrying a kilo of cheese, I with a bottle of beer inside my s.h.i.+rt, as a very small treat for the other fellows.
_July 30th._--Stephen, d.i.c.kie, and I set off at 9.30 to have a day's enjoyment at Varos, a village we had heard a good deal about. The day was scorching but we covered the 6 miles, via Lychkna, at about 3-1/2 miles an hour. In the last-mentioned village we were studying a notice on a house door when we discovered a nicely dressed woman beside us, evidently regarding us with some interest, and, what was most unusual, with a smile on her face. "Are you English?" said Stephen.
"No," she replied, "but I have been in England." "What part?"--answer "America". She went for her husband, who, she said, would give us beer, although she admitted it was forbidden, but he was hard as adamant and absolutely refused, saying "He cared for the notice" we had been reading. This vowed dire punishment on all who dared to supply anyone with alcohol. We shortly afterwards reached Varos, with its twelve windmills all in a row. This being in French occupation there is no prohibition for the British, so we searched out a suitable place for a cooling drink, and chose a very interesting spot in the village square. All the shops are somewhat alike, bare, black rafters, with earth or stone floor, and in this particular one a flock of swallows had their nests in every niche in the ceiling. Each of us had a bottle of beer on the pavement, alongside a French sentry whose sole duty was to see that no Frenchman had a drink. He seemed to think that it was unfair that his countrymen were not allowed to quench their thirst, so he defied the law by having a drink with us, and allowing every Frenchman who made the request to enter and have his big water-bottle filled with water--but really with red wine, a whole litre of which they could buy for sixpence. Delicious wine it was, although rather sweet.
We had very interesting talks with several of the younger men, who had all been in America, but had been recalled by their Government lately, when there were signs of Greece taking the field, which, according to our informants, she would do in September. All we spoke to seemed very desirous to have a blow at Turkey, they wished the Turk turned out of Europe. I had an idea there were no schools here, but I was told every village had its two schools. Young children were taught together, but as they grew up the s.e.xes went to different schools, and education is compulsory to the age of fifteen. All are taught to read and write English. This is due, our man told me, to Alexandria being their greatest mart.
We had coffee, real Turkish coffee, at another place, where we were attracted by a curious advertis.e.m.e.nt. It was an oil painting of a Scotch la.s.sie in kilt and plaid, dancing with a jug of foaming beer above her head, and alongside her it was announced that they sold "tea, coffee, and milk". Stephen at once wished to buy it, but the terms were exorbitant. To make Turkish coffee you put a teaspoonful of ground coffee in a little pot with an equal quant.i.ty of sugar, then run in about two ounces of boiling water, and push this into smouldering charcoal until it boils. Along with this is served a large tumbler of ice-cold water, which you sip time about with the coffee.
Before we could get d.i.c.kie away from Varos he insisted on being photographed by Stephen, astride a huge cask in front of a shop, but the cask refused to keep steady--so d.i.c.ky a.s.serted, although to all appearances it was most solidly fixed to a substantial stand. Plainly d.i.c.kie was feeling weak after his long walk.
_July 31st._--d.i.c.kie much stronger to-day. I accompanied him to H.M.M.P. "Aragon" to get some money from the army cas.h.i.+er. We lunched on board and had a glorious meal, everything to eat good, excellent cider with ice, and comfortable lounges in which to smoke. Such things are almost unthinkable after our simple--very simple--fare on Gallipoli. I sat between two New Zealanders who had come over from Anzac last night. One of them said they were only 10 yards from the Turks' trench in one part of their line. The other day a New Zealander shouted across, "Do you want any jam this morning?" "Yes," said the Turks from the depths of their trench. "How many of you are there?"
"Eight," was the reply. "All right, here's one pot of jam," and a pot of real jam was thrown over. The next morning the same proceedings were gone through, and the eight got together to get their jam. But this time the pot was filled with nitroglycerine and the Turks were blown to pieces. We are now using hand grenades from home, but till just lately when we had to retaliate on the Turks, who took to using deadly grenades, ours were made hurriedly of empty jam tins. These were filled with nitroglycerine mixed with pieces of old iron, such as shrapnel bullets and pieces of burst sh.e.l.ls which we all collected--and most deadly weapons they proved, if a Turk got one in the stomach it simply blew him in two.
Word came in the early hours of last night that we had to prepare for our return to Gallipoli on Monday August 2. No one seems actually sorry, we feel that we have got all the good out of this place that is to be had, and the sooner we are all in our places the sooner will the war be over. We had much wind and dust in the morning, the wind falling later when it became uncomfortably warm. We had few flies in our camp at first, but they soon found us out and became as trying a plague as in Gallipoli. The Kaffirs say G.o.d made the bees, and the Devil made the flies.
_August 2nd._--We left our camp in Lemnos at 12.15 and marched in a solid cloud of dust to Australian Pier, where we had to wait in the grilling sun for another hour before we got off to the "Abessiah," of the Khedivial Line, which sailed at 4.15, taking a long time to manoeuvre before she got her head towards the entrance of the harbour.
We had a good afternoon tea of crisp toast and real b.u.t.ter, likely our last respectable meal for many a day.
As we pa.s.sed through the s.h.i.+pping the old familiar cry of "Are we downhearted?" came from some of the s.h.i.+ploads of fresh troops. There was but a feeble reply from our men, very unlike their shouts as we pa.s.sed through Malta on the way out. We could not raise a cheer now-a-days, we are still too tired in spite of our rest. We feel a lot of desperate men, prepared to go back and face the worst if need be.
We pa.s.sed a British and French submarine just inside the boom guarding the harbour.
Before midnight our ambulance was transferred to a mine-sweeper and landed at V. Beach, leaving myself and twenty-one men behind to look after the baggage, which is always landed at W. We had a weary night of it, the trans-s.h.i.+pping of our heavy goods with fifteen mail bags which we picked up just as we were leaving Lemnos, being a big job. On coming round to W. Beach we were told we would have to remain where we were till 7 o'clock, or perhaps later.
_August 3rd._--It is now 6.30 a.m. and the captain and crew are still sound asleep, at any rate not a soul is stirring.
We overlook our old Beach, which looks as forbidding from the sea as it is in reality. A few minutes ago I watched a Taube drop a bomb beside our Ordnance Stores, another near the C.C.S., and a third a little further on. What has come of that French monoplane whose purpose was to chase such visitors? At 7 we transferred to a pinnace, and after much bother about baggage we reached our familiar dug-outs about 8. On our way up from the Beach, we pa.s.sed the Signal Station which was a heap of ruins. A sh.e.l.l fell on the roof two days ago, killed six men outright, and wounded ten, one of these afterwards dying. The numerous recent sh.e.l.l holes in the road and elsewhere showed that the Turks had not been idle in our absence. The 88th F.A.
beside us had several casualties, one day losing ten mules and three another, with one man wounded.
_August 4th._--It is twelve months to-day since war was declared by England on Germany. The number of men slaughtered in that time should be an easy record in the whole history of the world.
We are ordered to relieve the 88th F.A. at their dressing station near Pink Farm on the West Krithia road, and I walked out in the morning to view the place and to see what extras it would be necessary for us to take with us. I found Whitaker there with thirty men. Towards evening Fiddes and I came out with thirty-two men, and we are now in our dug-outs, which are really part of an old trench. It is a narrow bedroom but airy. We have a stretcher or two as a roof to keep the sun out, but with their huge blood stains they do not form an artistic ceiling.
It is now 10 p.m. and having come 2 miles nearer Achi Baba I had to go out and study what was doing. The usual all-night rifle fire goes on; roars occasionally from the batteries near us; Asiatic sh.e.l.ls I can hear exploding over at V. Beach; star sh.e.l.ls are going up from our lines, and the French, but theirs are superior to ours. Ours are merely rockets, theirs have parachutes which open when the rocket reaches its highest point, and they remain practically stationary for a considerable time.
We are in a very exposed position and have been warned that we will be sniped at once if we show a light. A few stray bullets have come about us, and I could wish that my parapet was a trifle higher, and I am, moreover, doubtful whether my candle light is not reflected through the roof stretchers which have a wrong tilt. But I will risk both dangers to-night, and will heighten my wall by daylight.
The Achi Baba guns sh.e.l.led W. Beach rather furiously to-day, and in the afternoon a large number of sh.e.l.ls fell in the harbour.
_August 5th._--Had a quiet day at Pink Farm (in some of our maps this is called Saliri Farm). In the forenoon, our water-cart not arriving when expected, I had a long hunt for a well where we could draw a small quant.i.ty of water, but it was with great difficulty we got it, every well being reserved for some particular unit.
We are on the eve of a big battle. To-morrow the front of Krithia is to be captured at any cost. We must get on and the cost must no longer be counted. In preparation for this there has been much ranging by all the batteries, to which the Turks feebly replied. We have no right to have our dressing station where it is, we have dumped ourselves down, and have erected our largest Red Cross flag, in front of several closely packed lines of reserve trenches, which is contrary to the rules of warfare, and if we get sh.e.l.led it is our own lookout. To-day these trenches swarmed with men, and four sh.e.l.ls were fired at them, the first just grazing the trench we are in. In the same way two submarines lie off the coast, close to the C.C.S. on one side and the hospital s.h.i.+ps on the other, hence sh.e.l.ls are continuously dropping in the former, but for this we cannot blame the Turk. So far, all are agreed that the Turk has not only put up a valiant fight, but a straight one, and if he continues as he is doing it will be better for him when the day of reckoning comes round.
_August 6th._--When sitting at dinner with Fiddes word reached us that Kellas had been killed. Such a blow to us and to all who knew good and gentle Kellas. Curiosity had frequently led us both into positions of danger where we ought not to have been, and I always noted how fearless he was. To-day he had been along a deep communication trench, along which wounded were to be carried in the action we knew was about to take place, and he had been viewing the ground, and while standing at the extreme end of this trench a sniper had caught sight of the group he was standing in and a shot laid him low. About an hour after this sad event I had orders to take his place in The Gully. As the fight was to begin at 2 p.m. I had little time to get into my place, at least three miles distant. I set off at once to our advanced dressing station at the Zigzag, three-quarters of a mile up The Gully from Aberdeen Gully.
To-day's battle has been a most b.l.o.o.d.y affair, wounded beginning to drop in at once. As often happens, out of our four first cases three were wounds in the left hand--one a bullet through the centre of the palm, another was minus the first phalanx of his fore finger, the third minus another finger. All these were undoubtedly self-inflicted.
We are bound to notify all these suspicious cases to their C.O.'s and until a guard is sent for them we retain them under a guard of our own men. If a hand is found blackened it of course shows that it was done at very close quarters, but to avoid this a glove or bandage is applied before firing.
The Incomparable 29th and the "River Clyde" Part 13
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