XXXI
In August 1922 Lawrence, having finally renounced the use of that name, enlisted in the Royal Air Force. He did all the usual duties of a man in the lowest grade of the Force and steadfastly refused promotion. For six months he raised no suspicion at all about his identity. He got on well with the men, though he was very raw and clumsy at the new life. Unfortunately an officer recognized him and sold the information for thirty pounds to a daily paper, with the result that there was an unwelcome publicity-stunt made of it and the suspicion then arose among the men that Lawrence was an Air Force spy! The Secretary of State for Air feared that questions might be asked in the House of Commons as to what he was doing there under an assumed name, so he judged it necessary to dismiss him in February 1923. This was most disappointing to Lawrence, who had got through the first hardship and bitterness of his recruit’s training, with a stainless character, only to be thrown out.
He had been stationed at Uxbridge, where his knowledge of photography seems to have put him into a section of photographic specialists. He disguised his previous history with half-truths, accounting, for instance, for his too accurate rifle-shooting at the range by saying that he had done some big-game shooting (perhaps he meant by ‘big-game’ some of the staff-officers on the train derailed at Minifer). He accurately informed the recruiting officer that he had previously served in no regiment, and so framed his explanations that apparently they noted down that he was interned by the Turks during the greater part of the War. At Uxbridge he nearly outdid himself in self-effacing efficiency. He was chosen as one of the squad to rehearse arms-drill for the Cenotaph ceremony at Armistice. He was unwilling to take part in it for fear of being recognized; fortunately his height saved him. He was rejected for not being five-foot-eight.
I am sure, by the way, that Lawrence would not, if he could, ‘by taking thought add a cubit’ (even an inch or two) ‘to his stature.’ Height is rarely useful to a man except in crowds and in games (both of which Lawrence avoids) and makes him conspicuous. I remember his saying once of an official: ‘Six-foot-three; and yet has brains’: being six-foot-two myself I uncomfortably wondered at what height upward Lawrence regards normal intelligence as usually ending.
At Uxbridge, on the first Commanding Officer’s Hut-inspection, the Wing-Commander was asking all the recruits personal questions. He noticed a few unusual books in Lawrence’s locker (where they were quite in order) and said: ‘Do you read that sort of thing? What were you in civil life?’
‘Nothing special, sir.’
‘What were you doing last?’
‘Working in an architect’s office, sir.’ (This was true enough. Sir Herbert Baker had lent a room of his office in Barton Street for Lawrence to write Seven Pillars in.)
‘Why did you join the Air Force?’
‘I think I must have had a mental break-down, sir.’
‘What! What! Sergeant-Major, take this man’s name; gross impertinence!’
The next day Lawrence was ‘up’ and was able to explain that the Wing-commander had misunderstood him.
At school in Uxbridge—the Royal Air Force makes much of education—the master, a civilian, asked the recruits to write a confidential first essay, for his eye alone, giving details of previous education. As he was obviously a decent and sincere man, Lawrence wrote truthfully that he had got scholarships and exhibitions from the age of thirteen onwards, which had helped to pay school and university bills until he had taken honours in history and been elected to a research-fellowship in political theory. That later events arising out of the War had constrained him to enlist and that he found himself over-educated for his present part in life. The master respected the confidence and instead of lessons gave Lawrence books to read in school hours and a quiet place to sit in.
A month after being dismissed from the Air Force he re-enlisted, with War-Office permission, in the Royal Tank Corps. He had got a qualified assurance that if he served without incident for a while in the Army, his return to the Air Force might be considered. He remained in it for more than two years, stationed near Dorchester. He found life rough but made many friends among the soldiers and was fortunate to be near Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Hardy, to whom I had the satisfaction of introducing him.
It happened more than once that journalists and celebrity hunters would break in on Mr. Hardy’s quiet and meeting there a little figure in clumsy khaki with a quiet, almost filial regard for the old poet, would not give him a second glance. Whereas, as Mrs. Hardy has told me, ‘they would have given their ears, almost, for a conversation with him had they known who he was.’
Lawrence was never without a Brough-Superior racing motor-bicycle. Each year he used to wheedle a next year’s model from the makers—and ride it to death—to report on it. He nicknamed his machines ‘Boanerges’ (sons of thunder) and they carried him well. He had five of them in four years and rode 100,000 miles on them, making only two insurance claims (for superficial damage to the machine after skids) and hurting nobody. The greatest pleasure of his recent life has been speed on the road. The bicycle would do a hundred miles an hour, but he is not, he says, a racing man. The first time that he really let Boanerges the Third go, in the early dawn on a long stretch of road near Winchester, he was curious to see the speed-dial make two complete revolutions. It did, and broke with a scream, so he flattered himself that he covered an unknown number of miles beyond the hundred an hour. But this was not his daily practice.
He wrote to me in a letter:
‘It’s usually my satisfaction to purr along gently about 60 m.p.h. drinking in the air and the general view. I lose detail even at such moderate speeds but gain comprehension. When I open out a little more, as for instance across Salisbury Plain at 80 or so, I feel the earth moulding herself under me. It is me piling up this hill, hollowing this valley, stretching out this level place. Almost the earth comes alive, heaving and tossing on each side like a sea. That’s a thing that the slow coach will never feel. It is the reward of speed. I could write you pages on the lustfulness of moving swiftly.’
He had at least one serious conflict with authority in the Royal Tank Corps, when he was brought up on the charge of insubordination towards a corporal. (Probably more. But none of them seem to have had unfortunate sequels, for when he left the Tank Corps his character-sheet was free of major entries.)
Of this occasion a comrade, Private Palmer, writes:
‘The corporal was a Scotsman of the old school, an ex-officer, overbearing, with a wonderful idea of his own importance. T.E. used to rag him unmercifully. The corporal had a habit of laying the dust in the hut with a bowl of water sprinkled on the floor. This performance annoyed T.E. and everybody else, so one day T.E. got up early and swamped the hut with I forget now how many bowls of water. We all paddled. Later a man in the hut received a few days “Confined to Barracks” unfairly, through the Corporal. T.E. simply slung the corporal’s suit-case into the sanitary bin.’
Private Palmer has very kindly given me further amusing if slight details of Lawrence’s life in the Tank Corps:
‘He did the normal work of a private soldier even to receiving “three days confined to barracks” for leaving overalls on his bed. After “passing off the square” he did fatigues. That is how I met him. We began talking about Thomas Hardy. I was employed in the quartermaster’s stores and T.E. joined me there. He did his work well; he had to mark recruits’ kits with their numbers, fit them with clothing, boots, etc. In the afternoons sometimes, we used to solve cross-word puzzles together. Generally, however, T.E. would work on sections of the Seven Pillars. He did correcting, etc., in the Quartermaster’s office, of an evening, and sometimes early morning.
‘One day I “pulled his leg” and he beat me with a slipper—after a struggle, mind you. The Quartermaster walked in and wanted to know whether the store was a gymnasium. “No, sir,” said T.E., “I’m sorry; I was only correcting Private Palmer with this slipper!” The Quartermaster laughed and said “Carry on!”
‘When rumours started in the camp as to who he was, it was amusing to see the troops studying photographs of him in the Daily ... and comparing them with the original. “It’s not him!” “I bet you a dollar it is him”; these were the sort of remarks that passed between the troops. T.E. appeared to be indifferent as to what they thought and said about him. This stage of excitement soon passed and he was treated as one of ourselves again. The tradespeople were more polite to him, however.
‘His recreations were gramophone music—he loved the Bach concerto for two violins in D minor—and Brough-riding. Most Sundays he used to take me, pillion, to breakfast at Corfe: order breakfast first and look at the castle while it was being prepared: he never tired of the castle. Sometimes he took me to cathedrals—Salisbury, Winchester, Wells. Of course we passed everything we met on the road: T.E. couldn’t resist a race.
‘His passing from the Tank Corps made a nine-days’ wonder: I was bombarded with questions. As the people who knew him are scattered now, his name has passed into the legend stage. Strangely enough, he is remembered, not for anything he did during the War, but for his performances on that wonderful motor-cycle.’
That ‘T.E. couldn’t resist a race’ seems to me a misinterpretation of motive. He is not of a competitive nature, but dislikes other people’s dust. And he never took the machine out on a dry road without letting it out, all out, at least once for every hundred miles that he rode. Just to keep the two of them from getting sluggish.
In August 1925, through the intercession of a highly-placed friend with the Prime Minister, he was re-transferred to the R.A.F., his ambition for the last two years, and in December 1926 was sent overseas to the Indian frontier, where he now is. He wrote to me some months ago:
‘If old P— asks you again why I am in the R.A.F., tell him that it is simply because I like the R.A.F. The being cared for, the rails of conduct, the impossibility of doing irregular things, are easements. The companionship of “shop,” the enforced routine of simple labour, the occasional leisures are actively pleasant. While my health lasts I’ll keep in it. I did not like the Army much, but the R.A.F. is as different from the Army as the air is from the earth. In the Army the person is at a discount: the combined movement, the body of men, is the ideal. In the R.A.F. there are no combined movements: its drill is a joke except when some selected squad is specially trained for a tattoo or a ceremony. The airman is brought up to despise the army. “Soldier” is our chief insult and word of derision.’
I hope that these quotations will not be considered tactless; but will take the risk. He wrote to me a year or two ago in the same strain:
‘You were in the regular infantry, so the chances are that you have rather a cock-eyed view of the life we lead in the R.A.F. Our ideal is the skilled mechanic at his bench or machine. Our job is the conquest of the air, our element. That’s a more than large enough effort to comprehend all our intelligence. We grudge every routine duty, such as are invented for soldiers to keep them out of mischief, and perform our parades deliberately ill, lest we lose our edges and become degraded into parts of a machine. In the Army the men belong to the machine. In the R.A.F. the machines, upon earth, belong to the men; as in the air they belong to the officers. So the men have the more of them. Drill in the Air Force is punitive, in the eyes of men and officers alike. Whenever the public see a detachment of airmen on a “B-S” (ceremonial) parade, they should realize that these, their very expensive servants, are being temporarily misemployed—as though Cabinet ministers should hump coal in office-hours.’
Sergeant Pugh, of his Flight at Cranwell, in Lincolnshire, has written me a letter about Shaw in the R.A.F., which I print as it stands:
‘ARRIVAL AT CRANWELL
‘As far as my mind takes me back, it was in the first week of Sept. 1925 that he came to the camp, and although many had heard of his “carryings-on”, few had seen him. He was met with all kinds of looks (suspicious): was he finding out who’s who and what’s what of the R.A.F.? Is that why he was discharged previously? (amazement): we had heard he was a man with a terrible scowl of harshness, etc., etc. (wrath): he is some ex-service guy pulling our legs; and yet! you know his carriage, slight, mild, unassuming, why did he set the camp alive in excitement just to see him?
FIRST FATIGUE. (I was taking names.)
‘Perhaps a dozen men were to have a “go” at cleaning the camp fire-buckets. Taking names (you know why) he happened to be the first on the roll and, asked his name, promptly sprang to attention, giving his particulars. The second and third names were taken before the S.M. snapped at those two for not doing likewise and commented on the fact that S. had shown them his military training, by saying “take an example of Shaw, you are letting yourselves down” and possibly stronger words were used. (His start at once told.) Having occasion to call and view the work in progress (and between you and me to get a good “close-up” of this man nobody could weigh up), there he was with bathbrick, polishing and rubbing as though his life depended on the result (eagerness personified) and laughing his heart out in some crude joke of his work-mate; an aircraftman of, to say the best, poor intellect who stood by while our friend grinned and worked.
CREDIT FROM THE TANK CORPS
‘It soon flashed through the camp that he was in credit to the tune of £50 from the Tank Corps and at “stand easy” when ordering tea and cakes from the canteen, he asked for about four or five extra teas and wads (cakes). Asking a few of the (secretly scrutinising) airmen to “muck in,” at least three “lots” were left in sheer wonder and almost embarrassment; smiles and expressions, “Deep B.” etc., being used.
CHURCH
‘Our camp church he liked—that was all. Always a true soldier preparing for and marching to same, when his turn for it came along. But it was a d—d shame that men of the calibre he went with, should be compelled to listen to the “something rot” that they were attending; for Sermons were not Shaw’s strong point. Generosity itself for a just cause. Apparent stupidity (which was amusing to all who “eyed him”) for any cause concerning his presence in the above-mentioned place of worship. Politics clashed with divinity—Shaw’s view.
S. JOINS UP IN R.A.F. SECOND TIME
‘An amusing item was told of his second admission to the R.A.F. All recruits must pass an educational test before admission. S. had to do a paper of a visit to some place or other and accomplished this with such speed, tact and general show of a born author, that the Officer i/C. asked him why he came to join up and yet could turn out his “stuff” with so much apparent ease. His reply was “Chiefly a mental rest.” which took the wind completely out of the officer’s sails, and yet the mask of mildness on his face floated him clear of trouble. A lot of heart-to-heart talk took place about various authors to whom he might apply for a job. Finally he was shown a list of R.A.F. trades and I swear he would tackle the lot in turn and decided to be a full blown Air Craft Hand, which means he does all kinds of fatigues and is treated as though he were a mere nothing in uniform.
‘T.E.’ ON ‘BOANERGES,’ THE MOTOR-BYCYCLE
Copyright
“B” FLIGHT, CRANWELL
‘Being posted to “B” Flight and the way he behaved during his stay was worth a guinea a box. Every conceivable kind of job was put before S. as the office “boy” of our flight. (I could give you a real good list of his duties which he was to do.) He had every job well mastered in a week and “taped” for any clerk who might follow. Our Flight Lieutenant took to S. and at once realized the asset he must mean to the flight. What “got him” was that S. had more power for getting things than he had himself. (I’m speaking dead honestly now.) He did not on any occasion ever let anyone think that what was given at all was given through thoughts of what he might do or say. His sheer force of personality got him, as you may say, undreamed of odds and ends necessary for us in our work, which seemed unattainable to any Sergeant to say the most, and never an aircraft hand. To know him was to be drawn by his magnetic personality and the heavens fell through, that alone is what made the airmen scratch their heads and THINK.
A GRAMOPHONE WAS BOUGHT
‘There is a good story on its own. A beautiful machine with Records. At first we held aloof wondering what class of music appealed to S.—Mozart, Beethoven, Tannhauser? (excuse my ignorance of the classical variety). It left us guessing, but we soon woke up to the fact that he pulled our legs by ordering some of the most awful sounding records possible to get, yet his face was a blank. Should we laugh? moan? or what? That broke all the ice barrier of wondering which had built up between the airmen.
HE STARTS
‘No clock was ever made to beat S. for awaking when he wanted, be it any hour. How was it done? Sailors they say do manage it, but at regular intervals. With S. any time was his time. But always before reveille. Baths are his god. He bribed the “civvie” stoker to attend to the fires for his bathing “Saloon” before the others; and to see him enjoy a real Turkish variety, gradually cooling to D. cold, was to know when a man is happy. Duty compelled me to have a week of his routine before 6 a.m. So this is authentic. Bath is S.’s second name.
‘To show there is no ill feeling he starts one of the most appalling records on the market and to hear the various good humoured grumblings of the flight will send S. in fits of laughter. “Onward Christian Soldiers” was his weak or strong point. National Anthem he reserved for medical inspection in the huts on Mondays. Rude but true. A rather sleepy (at the night time) sailor, whom S. loved to tease was presented by him, S., to a most glorious hand-knitted pair of pink woollen bed socks. He had them specially made in our Town.
BROUGHS
‘S. had a Brough-Superior 1926 model. You might call that machine his house. To see him ride was enough. To see that baby on a machine like that at speed made the population gasp. Brough junior says that he is the opposite number to his “bus”—“Two Superiors.” An insight concerning both is in the following:
‘Out riding one summer evening, he came across a smash-up between a car (driven by an oldish man) and a pedestrian. When the unconscious pedestrian had been safely disposed of,—stowed in the back of the car for carriage to hospital—S. was asked to swing the car for the old boy. Nervousness and excitement caused the driver to leave the ignition fully advanced and on S. swinging the starting handle flew back and broke S.’s right arm. Without so much as a sign to show what had taken place S. asked if he would mind retarding the offending lever, and swung the car with his left hand. After the car was at a safe distance S. got an A.A. Scout to “kick over” his Brough, and with his right arm dangling and changing gear with his foot S. got his bus home and parked without a word to a soul of the pain he was suffering. Through some unknown reason the M.O. was away and it was next morning before his arm could be “done.” That is a man—S., I mean.
‘S. had intended doing a “pull off” from an aeroplane with me and descending by parachute. Unfortunately his arm spoiled it for the pair of us. (Personally I was relying on his personality to get permission for the “drop”), so you see how everyone “fell” for him through his ways. Have served a little while in the R.A.F. but never before have I seen a man refuse to go in Hospital with a broken arm. Yet S. did and “got away with it.” Having after 10 days got into the style of writing with his left hand, the good work went on. His skill and supervision in his position astounded one and all. He will want to cancel this but let me tell you as his friend that his broken arm was the 33rd broken bone he has had at various times, including 11 ribs. This last sentence must be known whether he approves or not. In his book Seven Pillars of Wisdom he mentions a fact about his capture by a Turkish officer and his treatment under his captor’s hands. A bayonet had been forced after two attempts between his ribs,—those scars are on his body still and are very noticeable at once when he is stripped.
“OFFICE BOY”
‘As previously stated S. carried out every duty, job or any mortal thing that came his way with amazing speed and accuracy that often we wondered at his reserve power which pointed him out as differently as though he was miles above our standard at anything we tackled. His letters were the joke of the flight, because at every post something or other turned up. Am convinced that had he been given more spare time, the load of letters would not have been littered all over the trays, tables and pigeon-holes—in fact they were everywhere. Mind you his kit was kit, but correspondence he could not keep in check. To see him sign a cheque on his book-account (Seven Pillars) for a large amount, with his left hand after his accident made me wonder what proof the bank held of the genuineness of the signature. They used to get through without a line or word of doubt.
FIRES
‘S.’s job during cold weather would be to light the fires in the offices. Coal was usually difficult to obtain, but nothing would prevent the fires from being lighted. One day he pulled down a dead tree actually in the Air Officer Commanding’s private plantation, walking past flights and offices till he reached the “B” Flight, perspiring like a bull and all smiles. Anyone would think he walked about invisible. He invented a “Shaw mixture” of old oil from aero engines, sawdust and coaldust and mixed it like mortar. So with his trees and mixture fires were kept roaring all day long.
NIGHTS OUT
‘Asked his idea of a good night out, he told me that to take a man on his Brough to a decent town and give him a good feed and general good time was O.K. to a limit. That limit was that his companion on those rides must be mildly a ruffian, for preference, and his pleasure was derived in studying the man’s peculiarities unseen to the man himself.[7] “There are too many honest men in this world and a few more rogues would make the world a very interesting place.” Never sly, he would weigh up a cute scoundrel and gently smile at the result of his observation.
[7] Shaw has told me himself that he took out nearly all ‘B’ Flight at one time or another: all very decent fellows, he said, whom he admired very much.—Sergeant Pugh has made a joke read too seriously, I think.—R. G.
PROMOTION
At the beginning of each quarter a return is to be submitted stating the particulars of men recommended for promotion. Talking it over with the Flight Commander, he asked for S. to see if he had any views on the matter. S. emphatically refused to hear of any advance, a thing which made the Flight Commander nearly curl up, laughing.
NIGHT RIDING
‘It sometimes took place that S. felt like a blind into the night, summer or winter, and would cover as many miles as safety permitted, arriving in camp dog-tired and dirty yet cheery and stroll to the canteen for a couple of packets of “Smith’s Crisps”—chipped potatoes. That would invariably mean his supper. Yet he would be loaded up with good things for his room-mates. Fruit he loved, and would go a long way for a good apple. Other fruits he liked, but the best was the apple.
OFFER OF AIR OFFICER COMMANDING
‘The Air Commodore at Cranwell offered S. his house for the purpose of spending Christmas, but no! He was an Aircraft hand and as I’ve said before he kept his place as such, never allowing anything to break him from his position in the R.A.F.
‘It seemed his sole purpose was to be an airman of the lowest grade and rank and to be left alone with his Brough at “B” Flight, Cranwell. He was hero-worshipped by all the flight for his never failing cheery disposition, ability to get all he could for their benefit, never complaining, and his generosity to all concerned till at times it appeared that he was doing too much for everyone and all were out to do their best for him. Quarrels ceased and the flight had to pull together for the sheer joy of remaining in his company and being with him for his companionship, help, habits, fun and teaching one and all to play straight. He fathered us and left us a sorrowful crowd awaiting letters or his return.
FLYING AND SCRUBBING
‘When opportunity permitted he made a point of flying with all the officers in the flight so that each knew him well and in my opinion were proud of the fact, the way they used to smile when he climbed in with them. Flying is a very old hobby of his but although he has crashed 7 times, still goes on. He even used to leave the office at times, shove overalls on, and away out into the hangar, scrubbing and washing machines down although there was never any need to do so. Just to feel that he could do any job that came along. The number of times he has corrected mistakes and styles of mine are innumerable but I’m afraid I’ve slipped back during his absence. His languages got us beat, although he would not shoot out anything out of place unless asked, in that respect.
SCROUNGING
‘The hut table could be improved upon, so forthwith S. and a party went away with it to exchange it for a lovely one in the mess-deck. He made his only mistake by taking one that was marked by birds, and was “rumbled,” but as usual got away with it. The Quartermaster was a good sort. S. said so.
‘S. has been known to lift all manner of articles for our use, sometimes going so far as to speak to the victim and walk away with anything he fancied would be of use to us. Never for himself.
COAL
‘A good incident took place when the strike was on; all coal issues were stopped and “B” Flight had only a lot of coal dust and slack.
‘S.’s sheer cheek got to work, and calmly filling a huge bucket with dust he inquired the name of a Big officer who had stopped the issue. Walking point blank to his office, he found that the officer had not stopped his own coal ration, so he exchanged his load for some wonderful pieces of coal as big as himself. No one has found out who changed the dust yet. His comments were a broad grin and silence.
CIVIL POLICE
‘He was held up on three separate occasions by the same “copper” on point duty in a traffic muddle in Town (Sleaford) and reported the matter to the Superintendent. He pointed out that police were the servants of the public, paid by the public, and he did not think that the “copper” on point duty knew his job, that he was decidedly inefficient and a “Swede” (Airman’s term for villager). The Super, and S. had a grand argument, but S.’s eloquence floored the Super, and left him wondering what the R.A.F. had enlisted. That “copper” is now permanently excused traffic-control.[8]
[8] The point of this story may be lost on most of my readers who are unaware of the cavalier treatment that men in uniform usually get at the hands of jacks-in-office. The Cranwell fellows were astonished that Shaw was not arrested for making a protest against the inefficiency of a police-constable.—R. G.
AIR DISPLAY
‘He took all the flight and wives to Hendon by charabanc although I personally know that his ambition was to charter an Imperial Airways machine and “do” it by air, but he was let down for a “Kite” at the last minute.
‘Both going and coming he did not sit down for more than an hour, continually watching traffic and direction, and never turned a hair while the remainder slept or curled up, tired.
JOBS
‘On the summer holidays coming round he told us he had got the offer of a job as a Steward aboard a liner going to U.S.A., but finally turned it down owing to work on his book. (Wish this had come off.)
A VISIT
‘He used to Brough down to “Smoke” (London) most Saturdays to look after his book being printed, sleeping at the Union Jack Club. One night it was full, but they shoved him in somewhere. He came back and gave us his views. He said what with sleeping in a dormitory with a drunken sailor one side and a “blind” marine on the other there was nothing to do but swear.’
Here ends Sergeant Pugh’s account.
So far as I know Lawrence has only once filled in a confession album; for a comrade in the Royal Air Force. His statements are slight but amusing, and may be taken entirely seriously:
| Favourite | colour: | Scarlet. |
| „ | musician: | Mozart. |
| „ | author: | Wm. Morris |
| „ | character in history: | Nil. |
| „ | place: | London. |
| Greatest | pleasure: | Sleep |
| „ | pain: | Noise. |
| „ | fear: | Animal spirits. |
| „ | wish: | To be forgotten of my friends. |
His future plans are simply to stay out his full time in the Royal Air Force, and afterwards to settle down quietly in some room in London, ‘the only possible place to live in permanently,’ with a country cottage somewhere for his occasional retreat, and a pair of mechanically driven wheels to tie the two bedrooms together. But whether he will succeed in settling down quietly is another question. Mr. Winston Churchill’s short summary of Lawrence is a very penetrating one: ‘A rare beast; will not breed in captivity.’ It has suggested the text from the Vulgate, which I have made the motto to the book.
APPENDIX A
OPERATIONS BY BRITISH MOBILE COLUMN AGAINST HEJAZ RAILWAY
SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS
(1) Two companies, Imperial Camel Corps (Commander, Major R. V. Buxton; strength 16 officers, 300 other ranks, 400 camels, with 6 Lewis guns) have been placed temporarily at the disposal of Hejaz Operations, for the purpose of carrying out the following operations on the Hejaz Railway:
(a) To seize Mudawra,[9] with the primary object of destroying the enemy’s valuable water supply at that place.
[9] The spelling of this report is not consistent with the spelling I have used: but it does not matter. There is no accurate English spelling of Arabic names.
(b) To destroy the main railway bridge and tunnel at Kissela, 5 miles south of Amman,
or
should circumstances arise rendering (b) impracticable—
(c) The demolition of the railway bridge immediately north of Jurf Ed Derwish, and the destruction of the enemy’s supply dumps and wells at Jurf Station.
(2) The following instructions and attached march programme are based on the assumption that objectives (a) and (b) will be carried out.
Should it prove necessary, as the second phase of the operations, to substitute (c) for (b), which will be decided solely at the discretion of the O.C., Imperial Camel Corps, these instructions will be amended, and a revised plan prepared by the officer responsible for its execution.
(3) MARCHES.
The column will march, subject to such modifications as may be imposed by circumstances at present unforeseen, in accordance with the march programme and time table attached marked ‘A.’
(4) OPERATIONS.
(a) The operations, both at Mudawra and at Kissela (or Jurf Ed Derwish), will be carried out as night attacks, under cover of darkness. In each case, the precise plan of attack will be decided, after personal reconnaissance of the positions to be assaulted by the O.C., I.C.C. In this connection, stress is laid upon the value to be obtained by the element of surprise, the Turks in the Hejaz area being, hitherto, unaccustomed to attack by night, and therefore, probably ill-prepared to resist an operation of this nature.
(b) To provide artillery support during the operation against Mudawra, the Hejaz ten-pounder section will be placed by the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, temporarily at the disposal of the O.C., I.C.C. On the completion of this operation, the section will not proceed east of the Railway, but will return independently to Guweira or elsewhere, under the orders of the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz.
(c) For the operation against Kissela, the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, should arrange for the co-operation of a detachment of armoured cars, to be held in readiness at a suitable point east of the Railway to cover the retirement of the column to Bair in the event of pursuit by hostile cavalry from Amman.
(5) SUPPLIES.
The column will march from Akaba, carrying three days’ supplies and water for men, and forage for animals. In addition, each man will carry one day’s emergency iron ration, to be consumed only by direct order of the O.C. Column.
Dumps for the replenishment of supplies and forage will be established, in advance, under arrangements to be made by the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, as under:
(a) At Rum, 5 days’ rations for men and forage for animals.
(b) At El Jefer, 4 days’ rations for men and forage for animals.
(c) At Bair, 14 days’ rations for men and forage for animals.
(6) WATER.
Plentiful drinking water for men and animals will be found in the following localities:
Rum, Mudawra, El Jefer, Bair, Wadi Dakhl (vide attached march tables).
(7) MEDICAL.
A casualty hamla, with capacity for dealing with 24 cases (12 sitting and 12 lying) will be organized at Akaba, to accompany the column, by Major Marshall, M.C., R.A.M.C., under instructions to be issued by the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz.
A general scheme for the evacuation of casualties during the operations will be prepared by Major Marshall and forwarded through O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, to this office for information as early as possible.
(8) AMMUNITION.
260 rounds S.A.A. per man, and 2,000 rounds per Lewis gun will be carried.
(9) EXPLOSIVES.
(a) Under arrangements to be made by the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, an explosive hamla, carrying 2,500 lb. of gun-cotton, will accompany the column from Akaba to Mudawra. Empty camels and drivers should return from Mudawra to Akaba on the conclusion of that phase of the operations.
(b) For the operation at Kissela, arrangements should be made for an explosive hamla carrying 6,000 lb. of gun-cotton to meet the column on the arrival of the latter at Bair, whence it will accompany the column to Kissela.
(10) GUIDES.
(a) For the first phase of the operations (from Akaba to El Jefer, inclusive), the following arrangements should be made by the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, through Sherif Feisal.
| (a) | Guides (Amran Howeitat) to meet the column at Akaba and to conduct it thence to Rum |
| (b) | A suitable Sherif selected by Sherif Feisal, together with the requisite party of guides (Abu Tayi), to join the column at Rum, and to conduct it thence to Mudawra, and subsequently from Mudawra to El Jefer. |
| Provision of food for Arab guides, and of forage for their camels, whilst employed with the column, should be included in the arrangements to be made in accordance with para. 5 above (Supplies). |
Provision of food for Arab guides, and of forage for their camels, whilst employed with the column, should be included in the arrangements to be made in accordance with para. 5 above (Supplies).
(b) The provision of guides required for the march of the column north from El Jefer to Kissela, will be arranged on his arrival, by Lieut.-Col. Lawrence.
(11) COMMUNICATIONS.
The O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, should arrange for the closest possible touch to be kept with the column whilst operating east of the Railway, as far north as El Jefer (inclusive), by aeroplanes of the Hejaz Flight.
If possible, similar arrangements will be made direct with G.H.Q. for the maintenance of communication by aeroplane from the Palestine Brigade during the second phase of the operations, north of Bair.
(12) ATTACHED OFFICERS.
The following officers should be detailed by the O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, to accompany the column from Akaba:
| Political Officer for liaison with Arabs: | Major Marshall, M.C., R.A.M.C. (In addition to duties as M.O.) |
| Demolition Officer: | (Either) Capt. Scott-Higgins, (or) Bimbashi Peake, E.A. |
| Staff Officer (for 1st phase of operations as far as El Jefer only): | Major Stirling, D.S.O., M.C. |
(13) The O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz, should report by telegram to this office on the completion of the arrangements for which he is responsible, vide paras. 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, and 12 above, confirming in detail all measures taken by mail at first opportunity.
(14) Acknowledge by wire.
If available, it is suggested that the services of Sherif Hazaar, or of Sherif Fahad, might be obtained.
| CAIRO. 16nd July, 1918. | (Sgd.) A. C. DAWNAY. Lieut.-Colonel, General Staff, Hejaz Operations. |
| Copies: | No. 1 | Hejaz Operations. |
| No. 2 | ||
| No. 3 | O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz. | |
| No. 4 | Imperial Camel Corps. | |
| No. 5 | General Headquarters. |
‘A’
PROVISIONAL MARCH PROGRAMME AND TIME TABLE
| Zero day. | Column marches from Akaba. |
| Z+1 Z+2 | Akaba—Rum (11 hours). |
| Z+3 | Rest day, Rum. |
| Z+4 Z+5 | Rum—position of readiness West of Mudawra (14 hours). |
| Night Z5/Z6. | Attack on Mudawra. |
| Z+6 Z+7 Z+8 | Mudawra—El Jefer (20 hours). |
| Z+9 | Rest day, El Jefer. |
| Z+10 Z+11 | El Jefer-Bair (13 hours). |
| Z+12 | Rest day, Bair. |
| Z+13 Z+14 Z+15 | Bair—position of readiness East of Kissela (30 hours). |
| Night Z15/Z16. | Attack on Kissela bridge and tunnel. |
| Z+16 Z+17 Z+18 | Kissela—Bair (30 hours). |
| Z+19 Z+20 | Rest days, Bair. |
| Z+21 Z+22 Z+23 | Bair—Wadi Dakhl (24 hours). |
| Z+24 Z+25 | Wadi Dakhl—Bir es Aaba (20 hours). |
NOTE.—All marches are estimated at an average rate of 31⁄2 miles per hour.
SECRET
G.S.31
MAJOR R. V. BUXTON,
I.C.C. Ismailia.
In amplification of the special instructions, G.S.31, handed to you on the 16th inst., should unforeseen circumstances arise rendering both (b) and (c) objectives impracticable within the limit of time fixed for these operations, you are authorized, after the attainment of your first objective, to adopt, in consultation with Lieut.-Colonel Joyce and Lieut.-Colonel Lawrence, as an alternative, any modified plan of offensive action against the Hejaz Railway, North of Maan, which, in your opinion, the situation justifies, and of which local circumstances allow.
| CAIRO. 22nd July, 1918. | (Sgd.) A. C. DAWNAY. Lieut.-Colonel, General Staff, Hejaz Operations. |
Copy to: O.C. Troops, Northern Hejaz. For information.
APPENDIX B
LAWRENCE’S LETTER TO THE LONDON TIMES:
July 22nd 1920.
SIR,—
In this week’s debate in the Commons on the Middle East a veteran of the House expressed surprise that the Arabs of Mesopotamia were in arms against us despite our well-meant mandate. His surprise has been echoed here and there in the Press, and it seems to me based on such a misconception of the new Asia and the history of the last five years, that I would like to trespass at length on your space and give my interpretation of the situation.
The Arabs rebelled against the Turks during the war not because the Turk Government was notably bad, but because they wanted independence. They did not risk their lives in battle to change masters, to become British subjects or French citizens, but to win a show of their own.
Whether they are fit for independence or not remains to be tried. Merit is no qualification for freedom. Bulgars, Afghans, and Tahitans have it. Freedom is enjoyed when you are so well armed, or so turbulent, or inhabit a country so thorny that the expense of your neighbour’s occupying you is greater than the profit. Feisal’s Government in Syria has been completely independent for two years, and has maintained public security and public services in its area.
Mesopotamia has had less opportunity to prove its armament. It never fought the Turks, and only fought perfunctorily against us. Accordingly, we had to set up a war-time administration there. We had no choice; but that was two years ago, and we have not yet changed to peace conditions. Indeed there are yet no signs of change. ‘Large reinforcements, according to the official statement, are now being sent there, and our garrison will run into six figures next month. The expense curve will go up to 50 million pounds for this financial year, and yet greater efforts will be called for from us as the Mesopotamian desire for independence grows.
It is not astonishing that their patience has broken after two years. The Government we have set up is English in fashion, and is conducted in the English language. So it has 450 British executive officers running it, and not a single responsible Mesopotamian. In Turkish days 70 per cent, of the executive civil service was local. Our 80,000 troops there are occupied in police duties, not in guarding the frontiers. They are holding down the people. In Turkish days the two army corps in Mesopotamia were 60 per cent. Arab in officers, 95 per cent, in other ranks. This deprivation of the privilege of sharing the defence and administration of their country is galling to the educated Mesopotamians. It is true we have increased prosperity—but who cares for that when liberty is in the other scale? They waited and welcomed the news of our mandate, because they thought it meant Dominion self-government for themselves. They are now losing hope in our good intentions.
A remedy? I can see a cure only in immediate change of policy. The whole logic of the present thing looks wrong. Why should Englishmen (or Indians) have to be killed to make the Arab Government in Mesopotamia, which is the considered intention of His Majesty’s Government? I agree with the intention, but I would make the Arabs do the work. They can. My little experience in helping to set up Feisal showed me that the art of government wants more character than brains.
I would make Arabic the Government language. This would impose a reduction of the British staff, and a return to employment of the qualified Arabs. I would raise two divisions of local volunteer troops, all Arabs, from the senior divisional general to the junior private. (Trained officers and trained N.C.O.’s exist in thousands.) I would entrust these new units with the maintenance of order, and I would cause to leave the country every single British soldier, every single Indian soldier. These changes would take 12 months and we should then hold of Mesopotamia exactly as much (or as little) as we hold of South Africa or Canada. I believe the Arabs in these conditions would be as loyal as anyone in the Empire, and they would not cost us a cent.
I shall be told that the idea of brown Dominions in the British Empire is grotesque. Yet the Montagu scheme and the Milner scheme are approaches to it, and the only alternative seems to be conquest, which the ordinary Englishman does not want, and cannot afford.
Of course, there is oil in Mesopotamia, but we are no nearer that while the Middle East remains at war, and I think if it is so necessary for us, it could be made the subject of a bargain. The Arabs seem willing to shed their blood for freedom; how much more their oil!
T. E. LAWRENCE.
ALL SOULS COLLEGE,
July 22.