Chapter IV: Egypt and Palestine—1917 (1)

New Year’s Day saw the Regiment at Moascar Camp, Ismailia, and it was there that the Fife and Forfar Yeomanry were interred “for the duration,” giving birth at the same time to a sturdy son—the 14th (Fife and Forfar Yeomanry) Battalion, Royal Highlanders. We were all very sorry to see the demise of the Yeomanry and to close, though only temporarily, the records of a Regiment which had had an honourable career, and of which we were all so proud. At the same time we realised that, in our capacity as dismounted yeomanry, we were not pulling our weight either as yeomanry or infantry, and no other regiment certainly appealed to us as much as our own Territorial Infantry Regiment, and we were proud to link our record to the long and glorious record of the Black Watch.

We spent five weeks altogether at Moascar, working hard at the elementary forms of infantry drill and tactics, and on 8th January we marched to our new camp El Ferdan, some ten miles along the Canal. Here we continued our training, but of a more advanced kind, brigade schemes, tactical tours and route marches, “jerks,” bathing, and football kept us busy and fit.

One day some of us went to see the Canal defences, dug the previous year, about four miles east of the Canal. The sand was so soft, no amount of ordinary sandbagging or revetting would make it stand up, and all the trenches were made by sinking complete wooden frames into a wide scooped out trench, and then shovelling the sand back on either side of the frame. The original digging had to be about 20 feet wide to allow them to sink the frames sufficiently deep in the sand. It must have been a colossal work, and this was only a small portion of the scheme, which included laying on water to the more important defences, and laying out lines of light railways and roads from the Canal eastwards, at intervals of seven and eight miles, the railheads being linked by a lateral road.

On 4th March we left El Ferdan and marched to Kantara, the base of all operations up the Sinai Railway, and there entrained for El Arish to join the 74th (Yeomanry) Division. The journey of about ninety miles, over the very recently laid railway, was timed to take some eight or nine hours, and was uneventful and, though we travelled in open trucks, was not too unpleasantly hot. The frequent short gradients led to the most awful bumps and tearings at the couplings, but they stood the strain all right.

It was a very interesting journey to us, who knew only the Western Desert, to note the difference between it and Sinai. To our eyes Sinai did not appear to be a desert at all, as there were scrubby bushes of sorts growing in nearly every hollow, various kinds of camel grass, and even a few flowers—such as poppies and one or two species of lilies. After the waste of misshaped lumps of limestone and volcanic looking boulders, which were the only decoration of the Western Desert, this sort of landscape seemed positively verdant.

At El Arish we were camped some three miles from the station, and a very long three miles it seemed, as a large part of the way was over the softest of sand and most exhausting marching, especially with a heavy pack. Here we had our first sight of hostile aeroplanes, some of which came over nearly every day; it was a very pretty sight to see them in the brilliant blue at about 12,000 feet, with the white puffs of shrapnel bursting now on one side of them now on the other (but seldom very close). We were at once set to dig ourselves funkholes, which we were supposed to occupy on the alarm being given, but they never once bombed us, or seemed to take any notice of us. They made one or two bold individual attacks on the railway, between Kantara and El Arish, but for the most part they appeared to be out purely for reconnaissance.

At El Ferdan we had got our first infantry reinforcements—11 new officers—and now we received a welcome addition in the shape of 1 officer and 373 other ranks, which necessitated the reorganisation of the battalion. We also had to acclimatise the new draft who felt the heat and heavy going very exhausting, and, to begin with, had to go easy.

Our camp was pleasantly situated on a sandy plain, within half a mile of the sea, and dotted with scattered fig trees just beginning to show a few leaves. The climate was perfect, but the water arrangements were most difficult. We began to realise that it does not pay to be the last comer when there is a shortage of anything. We were paid off with the minimum number of fanatis (copper vessels for carrying water on camel pack), and, instead of getting allotted to us the wells nearest our camp, we had just to take whatever wells were left. These proved to be on the other side of El Arish village, in amongst the steepest sandhills, and it was a very tough tramp for the fatigue party, which had to accompany the water camels and do the pumping. Our stay here was just inside a fortnight, before the end of which we had got our new drafts allotted to their various companies; and a very good lot they were, though we feared they would have great difficulty in standing the heat if we were called upon to do long marches.

On 22nd March we started on our way to our first halting place El Burj. It was about nine miles, and we marched in the evenings, which was undoubtedly very wise. The going was not bad, there being a wire-netting track laid over all the softest parts: it is wonderful how satisfactory this is to march on, and many a time did we bless the man who invented it. The only sufferers were the mule leaders. They, naturally, could not lead their mules on the netting, and it was extra hard work for them, as they had to walk in the heavy sand and maintain the pace set by the troops who were on the good going. El Burj proved to be a most desolate spot, but it was at all events near wells; and we were so glad to hear that we were not to march straight on next day, that we didn’t grumble much about the scenery.

The Higher Command were a little nervous that the Turks might slip away again as they had already done at El Arish; but the next few days were to show that this information was not correct, and that the Turk had no intention of leaving the Gaza-Beersheba line so long as he could hold on to it.

We stopped there four days, and marching once more in the evening, we did a comparatively short step to Sheikh Zowaid, camping about a mile short of the station. It was pitch dark when we arrived and we had no idea what our camp was like, and it was a great surprise to find in the morning that we were on the edge of a shallow salt lake. The sunrise on this sheet of water, fringed on the far side with a line of scattered palm trees, was really most exquisite. It was, however, the only good thing about the place. Water for breakfast was late in arriving, and we were told that the half-day’s supply, which then arrived, had to fill the dixies for lunch, and also the water-bottles for the next march. There was not nearly enough for this, with the result that we had to start in the blazing sun about 1 P.M. with hardly anything in the bottles. The reason for this was, that the camels had to go on ahead to our next stop—Rafa—about thirteen miles distant, where it was hoped to have water drawn and ready for us on our arrival.

This afternoon march was a gruelling experience. It was the hottest part of the day; we had practically nothing in our water-bottles, and, to add to our trials, the wire-netting road was not laid beyond Sheikh Zowaid, as the ground had appeared quite firm to the divisions who had preceded us. Since they had passed, however, the route had been cut up by guns and transport, until it was just as soft as the softest sand, and twice as dusty. Finally, when we did get to Rafa about 7 P.M., there was no water waiting for us, and we found we had to take up an outpost line from the railway to the sea, a distance of about three miles, through the worst sandhills we had encountered. It was hopeless to move before the arrival of some water, and it was about 10 P.M. before we started to take up the line, and it was well after midnight before the left company had got the line extended right through to the shore. These sandhills were made of such fine sand that it was continuously blowing and drifting; any rifle pits dug out, say, a couple of feet, in the evening, would be completely obliterated in the morning.

Sending out supplies, as soon as it was light, to this distant company, was a most difficult job. To begin with, we found that camels, loaded with water fanatis, could not negotiate the steep faces of sand, so we had to do our best with the Lewis gun mules, carrying the fanatis only half full. Then there was a thick mist—the same mist which hampered the attack on Gaza—and we had no accurate knowledge of where the company was, nor was it possible to follow the tracks of the previous night, as they were all obliterated by the drifting sand. Luckily, some active members of the company had found the morning too cold for sitting still, and had taken a morning walk back from the line, so we came upon their fresh tracks, which led us to the rest of the company.

That night we had an alarm that the Turkish cavalry was out and had slipped round our right flank, and was likely to have a dash at our lines of communication either at Rafa or elsewhere, so we spent the night digging trenches which, during the next day or two, we improved into a sort of continuous line covering the water and railway station.

During these few days the first attack was made on Gaza, but without success. We heard a good many tales of hardship from lack of water, and saw some prisoners come through, but there was no great excitement.

From Rafa—which is on the Palestine Boundary—we moved on 30th March to Khan Yunis, said to be the home of Delilah. The march was once more in the evening, and was very comfortable, except for the last mile or two when we got in between the high hedges of prickly pear, and had to march through about a foot of dust in the most stifling atmosphere. When we arrived we found that we were once more on the fringes of civilisation: we could buy oranges in unlimited numbers, and also fresh eggs—not the Egyptian variety, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, but real pukka hen’s eggs. Water also was less scarce than it had been, and we were well content with our lot. We were in Brigade Reserve, which sounded very comfortable, but which was not so “cushy” as it sounded. It meant that we had to do all the unloading of supplies and ammunition at the supply depot and at the station, and also find the very large guards which were absolutely necessary, as the native was a diligent and skilful thief. The units in the outpost line really had much less to do, though, of course, they had their turns of night duty which we escaped.

Here we were joined by another brigade of our new division, and felt that at last we were about to become like other people—organised in a proper division.

This week, with its eggs and oranges, passed like a flash, and we once more moved on; this time quite a short way beyond Railhead at Deir-el-Belah, where we camped quite close to our compatriots the 52nd Division. After one night and a good bathe we took over, on 7th April, from the 54th Division a sector of trenches near Sheikh Nebhan, overlooking the hollow through which meandered the Wadi Ghuzzeh. This wadi—like all others in this part—is quite dry except during the storms of winter, but water could usually be got by sinking wells in the bed of the wadi at about ten or twelve feet down. Our cavalry by day and infantry by night held a line out beyond the wadi, covering the work of those who were sinking wells, making ramps for guns and transport crossings, and laying the water-pipe line. This line was to be carried to the cisterns of Um Gerrar, where it would come in very useful during the further operations for which we were preparing. It is rather wonderful to think that this water was carried with us by pipe line all the way from the Canal, and was actually Nile water brought to Kantara by the Sweetwater Canal.

The banks of the Wadi Ghuzzeh were almost everywhere precipitous, and anything from ten to twenty feet high. All these had to be ramped, and during the period of preparation some thirty such crossings were made between Tel-el-Jemmi and the sea, and each unit was allotted its crossing for the coming advance. During these days of preparation our Battalion dug a strong line of trenches dominating the crossings of the Wadi Ghuzzeh, and most of the officers got the chance of a reconnaissance to a distance of about three miles beyond the wadi.

The country beyond was very much cut up with smaller wadis, which at this time of year were a mass of wild flowers which grew most luxuriantly, and would have been welcome in most herbaceous borders; the anchusas—to name one—were several feet high, and covered with brilliant blue blooms, but the brightest effect was that of fields of mauve daisies. These grew as thick as poppies in Norfolk, and were almost as bright. One had plenty of time to look about at all the flowers, as there was practically no sign of a Turk, though, if one went too near up to the top of the watershed, an odd sniper would let off at one.

As the day for the advance drew near, all the troops told off for battle surplus were sent back to Railhead and formed into a divisional camp. Each battalion had to leave behind the following:—Either C.O. or 2nd in Command, two of the four Company Commanders and two of the four Company Sergeant-Majors, and a proportion of instructors in P.T., Lewis gun, musketry, gas, bombing, and signalling—in all, for a battalion at full strength, 120 of all ranks, including all officers above the number of 20.

This was the dustiest and dirtiest week of the whole year, the only interest being the scraps of gossip which kept coming in, and from which we pieced together the disastrous tale of the second battle of Gaza. One could also ride up to the top of Raspberry Hill or Im Seirat and see something for oneself, but usually any movement of troops was invisible owing to clouds of dust.

The fact that our main outpost line was, after this battle, advanced about live or six miles, was used to represent this battle as a British victory, but, as a matter of fact, it was a victory which failed to gain any main Turkish position. The positions which we held at the end of the battle, to which we had retired after being stopped at Ali-el-Muntar and Gaza itself, had been reached in the first instance with very few casualties, and it was on the glacis between these positions and the Turk that we suffered our main losses. This glacis was destitute of any cover, and was dominated by the heights of Ali-el-Muntar and the cactus hedges surrounding Gaza, and after many gallant efforts this had to be abandoned to form a No-Man’s-Land of a mile or a mile and a half between ourselves and the Turk. On our left in the sandhills the progress was slower and steadier, and the line finished up a good deal nearer the Turk than on the right; but here again the cactus hedges lined with machine guns proved too much for us. Our Division was not used in this battle, being in reserve, which was lucky for us, as those who were in the front line of the attack all got a pretty severe knock.

On 19th April the Battalion left the outpost line on Sheikh Nebhan and marched towards Gaza, resting during the middle of the day on a ridge west of El Burjaliye, and moving in the afternoon on to Mansura Ridge in support. On the evening of 22nd April the Battalion moved forward to construct and occupy trenches at El Mendur, which was on the right, or refused, flank of the line, and there the details again joined us. There we had a good defensive position, but the trenches still had to be dug and, as luck would have it, this digging, which ought to have been nothing to our men fit as they were, in ordinary weather, was turned into a very high trial indeed by a khamsin. This red-hot and parching wind, blowing off the desert, makes thirst a positive torture when water is limited, and it was very limited at that time. We were getting rather less than half a gallon per man for all purposes, which is perhaps just about the quantity used by the ordinary man for cooking and drinking in the cold weather at home; but in a khamsin when you are doing five or six hours’ hard manual labour per diem, a gallon is easily consumed. Luckily these heat waves only last about three days, but it left us pretty limp.

After a fortnight here a start was made with thinning out the line, in order to let some of those who had been engaged in the Gaza battle get a spell in reserve. We moved a step to our left, taking over with our Battalion the sector previously held by a brigade. Our portion of the line was taken over by the 12th (Ayr and Lanark Yeomanry) Battalion R.S.F., and we took over the line on the left previously held by the 5th and 7th Essex Regiments. Battalion H.Q. had a very comfortable pitch at the top of the Wadi Reuben, near a junction of many tracks which had been named Charing Cross.

Our week here meant another spell of steady work, as we had to convert what had previously been a continuous line into a series of strong posts, the intervals between which were covered by machine guns. This was known as the Dumb-bell Hill Sector of the Sheikh Abbas Line, being named from a hill whose contours on the map were a very fair imitation of a dumb-bell. Here we were still facing to a flank, but our left came up to the corner where the proper front began, which meant that we lay enfiladed from the main front, and they used to throw over a good deal of stuff if ever they spotted any movement.

At the beginning of May we did another move, this time on to the real front in the Sheikh Abbas Sector. This was quite a pleasant place, as we lived on the reverse slope of a fairly steep bank, pretty well defiladed from all the Turk guns, and the trenches, though only in most places a single line with quite insufficient communication trenches, had a long view and a good field of fire. The wire was continuous though not very thick, and it was quite safe to leave the trenches during the day in charge of a few observation posts. Add to this the fact that all, except the posts, could walk about during the day in the open quite covered from view by the steep slope mentioned above, consequently it was trench warfare under the most pleasant possible conditions. All the same it was a trying life owing to the difficulty of getting a normal amount of sleep. We had to “stand to” from about 3 A.M. till dawn, and then work till breakfast, and on to about 9.30 A.M. By that time it was too hot to do any more, and the rest of the day had to be spent in idleness. Few of us could sleep during the day because of the heat, and the temperature seldom began to get much cooler before 8.30 P.M., and sometimes later. There was nothing doing in the way of warfare beyond continuous patrols at night, sometimes small, sometimes up to twenty or more. The only occasion during our first stay did anything in the nature of a skirmish take place, and that was brought on by one of our patrols having a narrow escape of being cut off at dawn near a place called Two Tree Farm. One of the platoons in the line saw what was happening and went out to support them, and managed to get them in all right. A very small affair, but quite exciting for the onlookers, when there is nothing more important doing. In this part there was about a mile of No-Man’s-Land, and the Turk was very completely wired in and was seldom to be found outside his wire. Most of our patrols in consequence came in without having seen a Turk at all, but it was not a comfortable job, as machine guns were firing bursts all night.

We had a fortnight in the line, and on 25th May came out to Brigade Reserve which was only a move of a couple of hundred yards and not half so comfortable; but it gave some of us the opportunity of riding over towards the sea and having a look at our own and the Turkish lines on the sandhills.

While we were here we marched to Deir-el-Belah to be disinfected, and later relieved, first, the 16th (Royal 1st Devon Yeomanry) Devonshire Regiment, and then the Ayr and Lanarks, to allow them to do the same. On 13th June we took over the centre sector, the Abbas Apex Sector, of the Brigade line from the Devons, and remained in the line till 9th July when we handed over to the 4th Royal Scots, 52nd Division. Every night we sent out a patrol of 1 N.C.O. and 10 men, either as a standing patrol on Essex Hill or to patrol the wire in front of our area, and an officer’s patrol consisting of an officer and 20 men to cover the ground between Two Tree Farm and Old British Trenches. These patrols were nearly always fired on, but we were in luck’s way as regards casualties.

We then marched back some four miles to the Dorset House area, where we at once got started on intensive training for open warfare, varied with some very hurried musketry in the Wadi Ghuzzeh. Whilst here we had a very thorough inspection by Lieut.-General Sir P.W. Chetwode, K.C.M.G., C.B., D.S.O., Commanding Eastern Force, and in the way of amusements managed to get one or two games of polo with a neighbouring brigade. The plain on which we played was in full view of some of the Turkish positions at Gaza, and on one or two occasions play was stopped by shells. Also, in rotation by battalions, we made bathing expeditions to the sea at Regent’s Park. It was seven miles each way, but was well worth the trouble as it was months since most of us had been in the sea.

At the beginning of August we again changed our camp, and while on the move put in a couple of days’ field firing. For once in a way the ground lent itself to the purpose, and we had most interesting days; but it was pretty warm work, not being confined to morning and evening. Our new camp was right in the sandhills, near the aerodrome at Deir-el-Belah, where we did intensive divisional training. This was to have lasted three weeks, and was a very strenuous business. A full divisional day meant leaving camp any time after 2 A.M. and not getting back again until after midday; it was usually interesting for the senior ranks, but intensely boring for everyone else. Luckily we were able to fit in bathing, concerts, and sports, which kept everyone cheery.

After a fortnight of this we found we were at last told off for a useful job of work—digging a new line of trenches in the sandhills facing Gaza, between Fusilier Ridge and Jones’ Post, in front of those on Samson’s and Fusilier’s Ridges, at that time held by the 54th Division. We moved over the Wadi Ghuzzeh to Regent’s Park, where we camped right on the shore about an hour and a half’s march from the scene of our labours. After the second night it was decided that this was too remote, and we moved up nearer our work. Here we stayed for a week, with half of each battalion digging each night. It was a tiresome job, as the sand was so soft that a very wide ditch had to be dug and then faced with sandbags. The men were very quick about getting down, and after the first night they were practically working in safety for the remaining four or five days necessary to complete the sandbag revetting. All bags used had to be double, as single ones would not keep the sand in.

Our first night was a pretty jumpy business. We were somewhere about 500 yards from the Turk lines, and there was a bright moon, with the result that he spotted something and gave us quite a bombardment. For some time there was considerable doubt whether the work should be attempted at all, but thanks largely to Lieut.-Colonel J. Gilmour, who subsequently got a D.S.O. for his work that night, a good start was made at the cost of a few casualties. The rest of the week passed quietly, but we were quite glad at the end of it to be relieved by a battalion of the Norfolk Regiment of another brigade, as the march both ways, plus digging, was very hard work.

We did not return to the camp we had left, but to the Wadi Selke, a mile or two inland from Deir-el-Belah. The distance from the sea made bathing a bit of a toil, but otherwise it was a good camp, especially for the officers, whose bivouacs were in a fig grove which bore a very heavy crop of excellent figs. We stayed here about seven weeks, the longest spell we had in any one place, and made it into a good camp. There was a fair football ground on which we got through an inter-platoon American tournament, which kept everybody amused. There used to be a great turn-out when the officers’ team was due to play—they occasionally won their matches. We also had a good 200 yards’ range with sixteen targets, and carried out innumerable experiments to decide upon the best methods of attack. We had exhibitions of wire-cutting and smoke screens, bangalore torpedoes, and many days of practising co-operation with aeroplanes. Very frequent night marches by compass, combined with digging in, and followed by an attack or advance at dawn. In fact, we were put through a very practical training for the task which we were later to undertake.

In order to minimise the chance of anything going wrong with the plans for the concentration and attack on Beersheba, many officers were given the chance of making a reconnaissance as near as possible to the Turkish positions. This was done from Gamli, a place on the Wadi Ghuzzeh about fifteen miles inland and about eleven from us. We rode over there the night before, and in the early morning the cavalry moved out and pushed their line within a mile or two of the Beersheba defences. Covered by this, parties of officers rode out and familiarised themselves with the sector in which their unit was to operate, and they were thus able to hand in reports upon which Brigade Staffs could allot concentration areas and routes.

At the moment of kicking off we were as well trained as we were ever likely to be, and, what is more important, were very fit and full of the offensive spirit. The concentration started on 25th October, when we marched some six miles to Abu Sitta. Our transport establishment had been very carefully thought out, and, though both animals and vehicles were undoubtedly overloaded at the start, this soon rectified itself, as consumable stores could not be replaced. We had one camel per battalion for officers’ mess, and he started out very fully laden. He was a good deal less heavily loaded towards the end of the operations. Next day we marched on beyond the Wadi at Gamli—a very dusty and tiresome march—and were to have remained there throughout the next day. Word came in, however, that the Turk was attacking our outpost line at El Buggar, some ten miles out, and the Battalion had to move off at a moment’s notice about noon. The march through the heat of the afternoon was most trying, and on arrival it was found the enemy were occupying part of the line we were to take up. They withdrew, however, in the evening, and we constructed a series of strong posts from the Beersheba road to south of El Buggar.

During these days of concentration the plain lying between Shellal and Beersheba had been the scene of great activities. Karm had been selected as the position for a forward supply dump, and both light and broad gauge railways were being pushed out towards it at top speed. The first blow of the campaign was to be launched at the defences of Beersheba, which were facing west and extended both north and south of the Wadi Saba. They occupied a commanding position and were continuously wired. The main attack was to be pushed home south of the Wadi Saba by the 74th and 60th Divisions, and at the same time the enemy’s extreme left flank was to be turned by the cavalry, who were to make a wide detour through very difficult and waterless country and attack Beersheba from the east, and, if possible, cut off the retreat of the garrison of the Beersheba area. Covering all these preparations an outpost line was established some miles east of Karm and El Buggar, held on the left by the 53rd Division, then the 74th Division, then the Imperial Camel Corps, and, south of the Wadi Saba, where it was much more lightly held, a mere line of cavalry observation posts. These cavalry posts were covering, and slightly in advance of, the positions selected for battle headquarters for the 74th and 60th Divisions.

The preliminary arrangements for the troop movements went like clockwork, as did also the approach marches to the positions of deployment, and at the appointed time on 30th October, the Divisional H.Q. moved up the five or six miles to the battle stations selected. There was no sign of crowding or confusion—the only indication that there was anything unusual on, was the dust which could be seen here and there. The moves of the infantry began just as it was getting dusk, and long before dawn both the 60th and 74th Divisions had their two brigades on the line of deployment, which stretched southwards some three or four miles from the Wadi Saba.

As soon as it was daylight a bombardment of the Turkish advanced position on Hill 1070 was started, smothering the entire landscape in clouds of dust. This first attack, which was carried through by one of the brigades of the 60th Division, was ordered at 8.30 A.M. Hill 1070 was carried at 8.45, and during the next hour all the remaining advanced positions fell, and it was even reported that the enemy was here and there evacuating portions of his main line. There was now another interval for bombardment, whilst the gunners were wire-cutting for the attack on the main positions. During this period of waiting, which was longer than had been expected, our infantry suffered a good deal from shelling, much of which was in enfilade from positions north of the Wadi, and it was with relief that they received the order about 12.15 to proceed with the main attack. In about forty minutes all the trenches opposite the 60th Division were captured, and the 74th completed their task only about twenty minutes later, one brigade having had some difficulty owing to incomplete wire-cutting. The 60th had, by 2 P.M., advanced some way beyond the captured trenches towards Beersheba, and the 74th crossed the Wadi Saba and cleared the trenches northward to the barrier on the Fara-Beersheba road.

Meantime the cavalry had found their detour even lengthier than had been expected, with the result that they were some hours later than they should have been, and were held up for most of the day by trenches at Tel-el-Saba, a mile or more east of Beersheba proper. These were, however, rushed towards evening, and Beersheba was occupied that night. Very few of the troops allotted for the defence of Beersheba escaped, the whole operation being completely successful. The Engineers at first reported that the water supply and wells were intact; but this proved to be far from the fact, and within forty-eight hours the shortage of water was being severely felt. After this smashing success in the first stage of operations all our tails were well up, and everyone was keen to know what was to be the next move.

The next day found the 60th concentrated at Beersheba; the 74th just north of the barrier on the Fara-Beersheba road, while an advance northward had been begun by the 53rd and, in the evening, by a party of the 74th. One brigade group for the former advanced in a northerly direction west of Ain Kohleh, and the remainder in a north-westerly direction on Kuweilfeh. The left advance was successful, and a line was established on the desired objective, a ridge running east and west some five or six miles north of Beersheba. The other advance was not so fortunate; something went wrong with the supplies both of water and ammunition, and strong opposition was encountered. Also, it was impossible country to campaign in; practically roadless, and very much broken up with wadis and rocky precipices, which made it most difficult to maintain communications, even though a mounted brigade was thrown in to help.

The situation up here was much the same next day. No great progress had been made, nor were good communications established, but they had managed to get through both water and ammunition. Other divisions were, however, kept on the move. The 74th were moved up to take over some line from the left of the 53rd, the 60th were concentrated some three miles N.W. of Beersheba, and one brigade of the 10th was moved to Irgeig. This was an anxious day, as the 53rd seemed to be quite held up at Kuweilfeh and not too well provided with supplies, and there was considerable doubt, in view of the general scarcity of water, whether it would be possible to carry on the campaign, which involved rolling up the Sheria and Kuwauka defences from the east.

Our Intelligence Department had for the moment “lost” a Turkish division, which complicated the situation very much as, if it were suddenly to appear on the right flank of our attack on Sheria, a most serious situation would be created. However, on the afternoon of the 5th, word was received from the 53rd Division that they had captured prisoners from numerous different battalions, some of which were known to belong to the missing division. This settled the question, as it was quite clear that the 53rd were keeping them too busy at Kuweilfeh for them to be able to send any serious force to Sheria. The “lost” division it seems was one which had been sent to reinforce the forces defending Beersheba, but by the time it got to Sheria the Beersheba defences were taken, and it was obviously no use going there. It was accordingly then sent to Kuweilfeh in anticipation of an attempt by us to turn their extreme left flank.

On the afternoon of the 5th orders were rapidly issued for the attack next day on the Sheria defences and the Kuwauka system.

As most of the troops destined for the Sheria attack were at this time in the outpost line, this meant a concentration and deployment by night in an unknown country where map reading was very difficult indeed, and it was most creditable that it should have been, as it was, successfully carried out. There were certain minor mistakes, but in the main the attack came off as planned, and by midday all the line of the Sheria defences were in our hands.

The spearhead of the attack was the 229th Brigade, with ourselves and the Somersets in the front line, and it was a brilliant affair from start to finish. The brigades on our right and left, the 230th Brigade and a brigade of the 60th Division, were echelonned in rear of us, and the prompt success of our attack greatly assisted the advance of the 60th and 10th Divisions on the Kuwauka system. Our Lewis guns especially gave great assistance, and were successful in preventing the Turks from removing several of their guns, placed in rear of the Kuwauka system. This was acknowledged by the 60th Division who, in the true sporting spirit, let our Division know that they did not claim those guns as captured by them, though it was by their men that the guns were actually collected.

The guns of the 60th and 10th Divisions served them well and cut the wire most thoroughly and, without any undue number of casualties, the positions were finally taken about 2.30 P.M. The 10th then took over the line from the 60th, who advanced to the attack on the wells and railway station at Tel-el-Sheria. Unfortunately it was by this time getting dark, and direction was to some extent lost. The Turk put up a good fight here, and it was not until the morning that the wells and station were in our hands. We could see their dumps blazing all night far to the north, and it was clear that they had made up their minds to a general retreat.

These first six days in November had been strenuous days for the Battalion. On 30th October the Corps Cavalry and I.C.C. had passed through our lines, and we moved up to a position in Dundee Wadi. The 231st Brigade then passed through and took over from us, attacking along with 230th Brigade working in conjunction with the 60th and Cavalry Divisions. On 2nd November we took over the outpost line from the 2/10th Middlesex Regiment (53rd Division), and on 4th November we again advanced our line, meeting with no opposition except sniping and intermittent shell fire. At 7 P.M. on the evening of 5th November we received orders for the attack on the enemy’s position, were relieved at 9 P.M. by a battalion of the 230th Brigade, and at 11 P.M. moved off to the point of deployment.

At 3.30 on the morning of 6th November we deployed for the attack, the 230th Brigade being on our right, and the Somersets on our left. The advance began at five and we were badly enfiladed from the right where the attacking troops were being held up, and whence we continued to be enfiladed until we detached a couple of platoons, who carried the enemy’s positions there by 6.15. By 5.55 we had taken our first objective and captured four guns, all limbered up and trying to get away. We promptly attacked the ridge beyond, and having captured it proceeded to consolidate. At midday we again advanced under pretty heavy fire, but the Lewis gunners were very well handled, and succeeded in knocking out the crew and teams of two field guns beyond the railway, and we carried on to the position just east of the railway.

Our casualties at the Battle of Sheria were Major G.E.B. Osborne, Lieutenants J.D. Kinniburgh and E.A. Thompson, and 47 other ranks killed, and 5 officers and 182 other ranks wounded, of whom 13 subsequently died in hospital. Among the wounded was Lieut.-Colonel J. Gilmour, who was hit at the very end of the day, and to whom was due no small part of the credit for the victory. His brilliant leadership and dash at Sheria earned him a well-won bar to his D.S.O., and the admiration of the whole Brigade. The elan and dash of the Battalion, under his inspiring leadership, throughout the operations gained the highest praise from all quarters. Between 5 A.M. and midday the Battalion along with the Somersets had advanced some 10,000 yards, in the course of which they had captured several successive all-round positions held by considerable garrisons, and well provided with machine guns. In addition to 99 prisoners we had captured six field guns with limbers, three machine guns, and a large quantity of S.A.A. Our dead were buried in the cactus garden.

Major J. Younger who had been acting as liaison-officer between the 60th and 74th Divisions was sent for to take over command of the Battalion, which was in the highest of spirits in spite of all it had come through, full of beans, very proud of themselves and the Colonel, and more than ready for another scrap.

We were all thoroughly glad to have had such a good introduction to infantry work; not only had it been a success, but it had also been well planned. The staff work had been excellent and, above all, it had been open warfare for which we thought, rightly or wrongly, that our mounted training had prepared us.

We had now got some news of the doings of the other corps on the coast. We knew that they had succeeded in taking Gaza and were advancing north, and we saw the cavalry divisions galloping through us brigade after brigade to take up the pursuit. The Turk was in a most awkward position, but proved himself a first-class rear-guard fighter.

On the night of the 7th he had only the narrow neck between the cavalry and the XXI. Corps, who were advancing up the coast, and this neck was not more than five or six miles wide; but in spite of all difficulties he managed to get most of his infantry and some of his guns away. We ourselves expected to start our advance north following on the cavalry, but it turned out that the transport was not able to maintain two corps so far in advance of Railhead. The XXI. Corps, being already on its way north, was given the task of clearing the Plain of Philistia, and following up the Turkish retreat with the assistance of a considerable portion of our (XX. Corps) transport. As we were not to go on, the authorities were in no hurry to move us, and we spent a couple of days clearing up the battlefield before returning in a couple of the dustiest and most unpleasant marches to the neighbourhood of Karm.

Our actual destination was Goz-el-Gelieb; but when we got near the spot it was so thick with dust that we could only see about 50 yards, and as the plain was quite featureless and all alike, we just bivouacked for the night, and hoped we should find in the morning that we were somewhere near the right spot.

First thing after daylight, while the dew was still able to keep down the dust, we got our bearings and moved about three-quarters of a mile to the correct map reference. Here we were joined during the day by our “B” team or battle surplus, whom we had last seen a fortnight before, and a draft of 2 officers and 126 other ranks out from home.

On 15th November Major-General E.S. Girdwood, commanding 74th Division, at a Brigade Parade presented Military Medals, awarded for gallantry at the Battle of Sheria, when 9 men from the Battalion received the honour.

After a few days in the dust of this plain, we moved back in two marches to our old area near the coast. This time we were just south of the Wadi Ghuzzeh, on a hill which was beautifully green and fresh. All the lower ground round it had been used for camps for the best part of a year, but this hill had been so prominent and so fully under observation from Ali-el-Muntar, that it could not be occupied so long as the Turks held Gaza. Here we had a great presentation of medals by the Corps Commander (Lieut.-General Sir Philip W. Chetwode, commanding XX. Corps). Our share for Sheria was 1 D.S.O., 4 M.C., 5 D.C.M., and 1 more M.M. making 10 M.M. in all, which we all agreed was a quite satisfactory allowance. Evidently the authorities at home thought so, if one may judge from the fact that there was practically nothing obtainable for the next six months.

We were told by the authorities that we were certain to remain some time in the Gaza area, where we were fully occupied in salvage work, for the simple reason that the Q Branch could not feed us if we moved beyond Railhead. Some new factor must, however, have arisen, as we had only stayed some five days, and most of the Battalion was out some four or five miles away on salvage work, when suddenly orders arrived that we were to march that afternoon.—Starting point, the crossing of the Wadi Guzzeh, 4.30 P.M.

Before describing our march it would be as well to give some idea of the position of the XXI. Corps, which had been, with the assistance of the cavalry, pushing the Turkish forces back on to Jerusalem and Jaffa. This pursuit, which met with a pretty stout resistance throughout, had been going on for nearly a fortnight, and the Plain of Philistia was cleared of the Turk, whose main forces had retired on our left a little beyond Jaffa, and on our right into the precipitous Judæan Highlands defending Jerusalem. Our Railhead had only reached Deir Sineid, a few miles north of Gaza, and about thirty-five miles south of the battle front. The Turkish railway, which went as far as Junction Station, and from which much had been hoped, proved almost useless owing to shortage of rolling stock, and consequently supply depended almost entirely on motor lorry and camel from Railhead, or from the Wadi Sukharieh, where some supplies were being landed in surf boats. The question of supply had been most difficult, and water supply hardly less so, even for the one corps, and it looked as if we might come in for some scarcity when we got up nearer the front. In the pursuit of the portion of the Turkish Army, which was retiring on Jerusalem, our cavalry had penetrated some way into the hills, and were endeavouring to hold on until the infantry could get up to relieve them. The process of relief was going on during the few days we were marching up.

Now to return to our part in the affair. Our first march was a short one of some seven or eight miles to a bivouac a mile beyond Ali-el-Muntar, the prominent height dominating Gaza at which we had been looking the whole summer. We stayed here for a day, partly to wait for the arrival of greatcoats, which would be so necessary in the Judæan Highlands, and to get rid of our helmets, and partly to give the supply people a chance. Most of us spent an hour or two examining Ali-el-Muntar and its defences. It looked very much less knocked about than one would have expected after the severe bombardments to which it had been subjected, and we came to the conclusion that there had never been very many troops actually holding it. The infantry had evidently been in trenches well away from the hill, which appeared to have been used entirely for observation purposes. It must have been a pretty uncomfortable corner for an F.O.O., as the top used to appear to be blown off about three times a day. Concealment of trenches had been made very easy by the presence of numerous cactus hedges, and it is doubtful whether our guns, except in the actual assault, had ever had a really satisfactory target.

After this day of rest, 24th November, we marched just over twelve miles to Mejdal. The weather was not too hot, and there was quite a good beaten mud road, and we should have found it a fairly easy march if it had not been for foot troubles. We had been more than six months without having ever marched on a road—it had usually been soft sand—and the sudden change to the flat hard surface of the baked mud fired the men’s feet at once. When we arrived in camp at Mejdal we had a foot parade, and found that there were over a hundred cases of blisters and dressings for the medical officer and his satellites. This Mejdal was quite a considerable village, and as we marched in we met the most dignified specimens of native we had yet seen. Mounted on donkeys and wearing the flowing robes of the Old Testament, they really did remind one of the patriarchs in our stained glass windows. All the brilliant colours—purple, crimson, and orange—were represented, and many of them had the regulation beard. There were also numbers of the usual class selling oranges and, oddly enough, also cigarettes.

Next morning we were again on the road and not feeling too cheery about it, as we were told we were to do a 19–mile march—rather a formidable proposition when every second man already had sore feet—as it was the intention of the authorities to get us up to Jaffa in two strenuous marches. However, during the course of the day the plan of campaign was changed, and we were told that we should probably have to go to the Judæan Hills instead of to the Ramleh-Jaffa Sector near the sea. This was not the best of news, as there was no doubt which was the more salubrious spot; but it had this compensation that it knocked six miles off our day’s march, our camp being pitched near the Wadi Sukharieh mentioned above, which was a convenient starting-point for the next day whether we were ordered to Ramleh or to Junction Station. We found, to our surprise, that the feet were no worse than the previous night; some few were getting pretty bad, but most of them looked as if they were on the mend.

The next day we were finally labelled Judæa, and did a most trying march—only about eleven miles, but a frightfully hot day—at first through various pleasant looking farm colonies, and later through a most desolate piece of country to Junction Station. On this trek we were lucky enough to come under the eye of the Commander-in-Chief, who at once noticed what we all very well knew—that we were carrying a much greater load than could reasonably be expected in such a climate. We had to do it, as the necessary camels had simply not been available. However, the Commander-in-Chief quickly remedied this, and from here onwards we had camels provided to carry our greatcoats, leaving us pack and blanket only.

At Junction Station we had our first taste of water trouble. As we were making our way from west to east, we were changing places with a division of the XXI. Corps. This division had spent the previous night at Junction Station and had drunk the wells dry, so that no water was obtainable on our arrival. We were told we should get it by 9 P.M., and then a later hour was mentioned; but the net result was that we got just enough to make our breakfast tea, but not enough to fill the water-bottles, so we started on our next stage in the very worst of tempers to find that we had hardly got out of camp before we were involved in a regular block at the railway crossing which, needless to say, was frightfully dusty. This delay proved, however, to be a blessing in disguise, as it enabled our water camels to catch us up with a small ration of water for lunch. If we had not got this water we should probably not have got more than 75 per cent. of the Brigade to the end of the day’s journey. We got into camp on a rocky slope near Latron about dusk, and almost at once were warned to be ready to start again at 9 P.M. to march another ten miles and take over part of the line in the hills. This was soon altered to starting at 3 A.M. owing to better news from the front, and again to 8 A.M. the next morning as the situation calmed down.