For a moment or two I sat in the machine altering the throttle, for the engine had not completely stopped. Then I heard a roar, and the Bristol fighter came by, flying a few feet from the ground, and I could see the observer waving to me. I jumped out and tried to wave them away. It was possible, but risky, for a machine to land and get off from that ground, and, with the hope that my engine would pick up again, I did not think the risk was justifiable. However, they had no intention of leaving me in the lurch, and after another turn round landed on the plough about 50 yards away. I got into my machine once more, and as they ran across towards me my engine started once more to give its full power; but I saw that I should have great difficulty in getting out of the ditch. When they came up I recognized them as two most stout-hearted Australians, Captain Austin and Lieutenant Lee, who had both gained the Military Cross, and made a considerable reputation for themselves on the Palestine front. They hauled on the machine whilst I roared the engine. All in vain, however; we could not shift her. I shouted to them that we must set this plane on fire and try to get away on theirs. "Ours is useless," they answered. "We broke a wheel on a boulder in landing." "Is it quite hopeless?" I said. "Yes, quite."
Leaving them to set my machine on fire, I took a revolver and a Verey's pistol and ran over to the Bristol. As I went I saw that, from some rising ground about 100 yards away, thirty or forty Arabs were covering us with rifles. Hoping they would not shoot, I went on and fired first the revolver and then the Verey's right into the petrol tank, and it burst into flame. We soon had the other machine on fire by the same means, and threw into the flames our maps and papers. A brief consultation decided us that escape was quite hopeless. The Arabs could travel over that country much faster than we could. There were very rugged hills between us and the Dead Sea, with possibly or probably an impassable precipice. We thought there was just a chance that the Arabs were friendly as they had not yet fired. At any rate, it was highly probable that they would be open to bribery. If they were definitely hostile it was a bad lookout, and a speedy death was about all we could hope for. It was disturbing to recall, as Lee did, in a grimly humorous tone, that we had dropped bombs on El Karak and done considerable damage there only the week before. However, to run was certain death, so we waved to the Arabs and walked towards them.
The Arabs rose with a shout, and brandishing their rifles rushed towards us. Several of them taking hold of us led us or rather dragged us along. Filthy, evil-looking, evil-smelling brutes they were. They were mostly clad in dirty white linen garments, with bandoliers and with belts stuck full of knives and revolvers. Some had German rifles, but most of them had old smooth bores which fire a colossal soft-lead bullet. To be man-handled by these savages was most repulsive. We kept together as far as possible and Lee, who knew a few words of Arabic, tried to make them understand that we could give them large sums of gold if they would take us to the English. Whether they intended to help us and whether they were friendly we could not make out, for they jabbered and shouted and pulled us along, so that we had little opportunity for making ourselves understood, though Lee kept hard at it. He gave a hopeful report, however, based on their constant repetition of the word "Sherif," and the fact that they had not yet cut our throats nor robbed us to any great extent. Lee had his wrist-watch stolen, and I think Austin lost a cigarette case. I produced a very battered old gun-metal case, and after lighting a cigarette handed the rest round to our escort, hoping this would help to create a benevolent atmosphere. After walking a couple of miles in this way, the Arabs keeping up a ceaseless and deafening chatter the whole time, we came to a tumbledown deserted mud and stone village. I found myself separated from the other two, and I and my escort came to a halt before a half-underground mud hovel with a black hole for an entrance, through which it would have been necessary to crawl. It was conveyed to me by signs that I was to enter, and they dragged me forward. I resisted, and heard Lee, who was about 30 yards away with his crowd of ruffians, shouting to me, "Don't let them get you in there, Evans; try and get back to us." The attitude of the brutes round me became very threatening, and one fellow made preparation to encourage me with a bayonet. Suddenly a horseman came galloping over the brow, and the horse putting his foot on one of the large flat stones which abound in this country came down with a crash and horse and rider rolled over and over like shot rabbits. As the horse rose the rider mounted him and again came on at full speed. Whether it was the appearance of this horseman, or whether, as I believe, a report of the approach of the Turks from El Karak, which caused the Arabs to change their tactics, I don't know, but they suddenly ceased trying to force me into the black hole, and we joined the others. I have never been quite sure whether they had intended to murder me for my kit, or to save me for ransom to the English. Lee had no doubts as to what my fate would have been, and thanked God for my escape.
After we had walked for another mile or two we were met by two Turks, who had the appearance of military policemen, and another crowd of Arabs. In answer to a question, one of the Turks who spoke French said that we were prisoners of the Turks, and added that we need not now be frightened. From what the Turk said then, and subsequently, we began to realize how lucky we were still to be alive. However, there was still considerable cause for anxiety. All the Arabs and we three sat down in a ring, and one of the Turks addressed the assembly at length. There was a good deal of heckling, but at last they arrived at some decision, though by no means unanimously. We were mounted on horses, and, with the two Turks also mounted and a bodyguard of some thirty Arab horsemen, proceeded towards El Karak. All around were a mob of unpleasantly excited Arabs yelling and shouting and letting off their rifles. The Turk who spoke French told us to keep close to him, and hinted that we were not yet out of the wood.
El Karak is built on a pinnacle of rock which rises abruptly from the bottom of a deep gorge. To reach the town from any side it is necessary to descend nearly 400 feet into the gorge down a most precipitous path of loose stones, and then climb by a track even steeper and stonier in which there are seven zigzags to the citadel, which is almost on a level with the rim of the gorge. In the valley, at the foot of the pinnacle, there was a very heated dispute between the Turks and the Arabs. For ten minutes or more, whilst our fate hung in the balance, we sat on a boulder and watched. Once more the decision appeared to be in our favor; and, after a further dispute, this time rather to our dismay, between the two Turks, we climbed the path in the midst of a strong bodyguard of the least excitable of the Arabs. At the gates of the town we were met by a dense and hostile crowd and, at the bidding of one of the Turks, linked our arms and pushed our way through. One fellow clutched me and but for our linked arms would have pulled me into the mob, but with the help of Lee and Austin I got free from him, and with a push and a scramble we got into the citadel—the only solidly built building in the place. Here the two Turks heaved sighs of relief, mopped their brows, and congratulated us heartily on being in safety. It had been a very close thing they said.
To my astonishment we were treated with the greatest consideration. Food and coffee and cigarettes were brought to us, and shortly afterwards we were brought into the presence of Ismail Kemal Bey, the Turkish commandant and military governor of El Karak. In my life I have met with few people with whom, on so short an acquaintance, I have been so favorably impressed as I was with Ismail Kemal Bey. He was a finely built man, with a most intelligent face and a charming smile. He had been wounded thirteen times he told us, seven times in the Balkan wars and six times in this war, and had been a prisoner in the hands of the Greeks, by whom he had been disgracefully maltreated. His right arm was completely paralyzed. As had been agreed between us, I gave my name as Everard, for I feared that, if it was discovered that I had escaped from a German prison, a closer guard would be kept upon me, and life otherwise made more intolerable. I realized that this would lead to certain difficulties with regard to informing my people that I was still alive, and obtaining money by cheque or otherwise, as I selected a new name quite on the spur of the moment; but I had to take that risk, and henceforth for the rest of my captivity I was known as Everard.
Whilst we were Kemal Bey's prisoners we were his honored guests, and he treated us with the tactful courtesy of a well-educated gentleman. That evening we dined with him, and were given under the circumstances a most remarkably good dinner. He spoke both German and French fluently, and I talked with him for two hours or more on a great variety of topics. He told us we owed our lives to two things. Firstly, a reward of 50 gold pieces which was offered by the Turkish Government to the Arabs for live English officers, and secondly, to the fact that the Arabs knew that he (Kemal Bey) would certainly have hung half a dozen of them if they had murdered us. Even so, although he had sent his men with all speed he had scarcely hoped to bring us in alive.
That afternoon we watched two of our aeroplanes searching for us. Kemal Bey was much impressed by the loyalty of the Flying Corps to one another, especially when I told him that Lee and Austin had been captured only because they had descended, most gallantly, to rescue me.
Next morning we left El Karak with a small escort and rode to Kutrani, the town which we had bombed the day before. The distance is about 45 kilometres. It was a most tedious and boring journey, and we were very tired when we got in. We slept that night in a tent, and next day departed by train for Aman. We were traveling in a closed cattle truck, and, as it was a hot night, our guards left the door open a foot or two. From the time it was dusk till midnight, when the opportunity had passed, I waited in a state of the highest tension for a reasonable chance to jump from the train and make my way to our forces in the neighborhood of Jericho. Though several times I was on the point of going, a real chance never came. Although I pretended to sleep, one or other of my guards, usually only one, was always awake and watching me. We reached Aman in the early morning. During the day we were cross-questioned by a German Intelligence officer. I had told Austin and Lee what to expect, and I don't think he got much change out of any of us. I was surprised at his knowledge of our forces, and especially when he showed that he knew or guessed of the presence of two divisions which had lately come from Mesopotamia.
That night the Turks took special precautions to prevent us from escaping, but nevertheless treated us quite well, giving us overcoats and at our request a pack of cards.