When some five months later I stood on the summit of Kut's famous minaret, from which Briton and Turk had each in their turn observed the enemy closing in on them, and from which one could see the junction of the Hai with the Tigris now very low, the ruins of what was the Liquorice Factory, and miles away Es Sinn and San-i-yat, it was impossible not to be impressed and to feel a certain sadness and yet a great admiration for all those lives which had been so freely given to uphold the honour of the flag and the dignity of the Empire, and how when failure after failure had dogged our steps, grit and perseverance had at last won the day, and success crowned our efforts. Kut was ours; it must have cheered those lonely prisoners in captivity in the fastnesses of Asia Minor when the news eventually leaked through that their defeat was avenged and that the flag which Townshend had been compelled to haul down once again flew over the small but famous village to the Banks of the Tigris.
Pursuing is only slightly less arduous than being pursued, and in his despatches well might the Army Commander have quoted those famous words used centuries before by another great leader when an equally strenuous pursuit was in progress. 'Faint yet pursuing'. One has to remember that these same troops had been cooped up in trenches for nearly a year, and to suddenly be called upon to take a prominent part in such a pursuit as was now in progress was no ordinary strain. Not a man in No. 1. Platoon fell out on the march from San-i-yat to Baghdad, a record of which the platoon and its officer might well be proud. The going was bad, there was no road as one understands a road in England, it was plain flat open country. A stay was made at Dahra and then a night march carried us to Shumran, where there were signs of a cavalry fight and prisoners were being brought in.
The Brigade had orders to clear the battlefield and booty of all kinds, guns and ammunition were collected, rifles which had been thrown away, as it is easier to run without one than with, and what little surplus kit the Turk possessed had been discarded, so that his flight might not be impeded; they were all out for Baghdad and we were all out after them, but we were out-running our Transport and Supplies, and the meals during the great pursuit were both scanty and irregular, but who cared, so long as we had enough to carry us on. All England was looking on, and day by day following our progress with feverish interest. "Is Baghdad going to be taken" was on everyone's lips. Beards were making their appearance even on the youngest soldiers' chins, numbers of men were being knocked up by the continuous strain and a four days' halt was called at Sheik Jaad, No. 1 Company being sent forward to Beghailah. Still pressing forward we reached Azizie, 46 miles from Baghdad, and the total number of prisoners since the advance now mounted to well over 5,000. Turkish depots and stores at many points were in flames, 38 guns, many machine guns, trench mortars, ships, tugs and barges, miscellaneous river craft and bridging material fell into our hands.
Booty was strewn over 80 miles of country and the Arabs living in the neighbourhood must have secured sufficient goods of various description to last them the rest of their lives.
Zeur, Bustan, then Ctesiphon were all passed, there being no time or opportunity to stay and examine the famous arch. But as we halted for the night beside the magnificent ruin, one could but reflect on the ironies of a soldier's fortune. Here it was, long before the arch was built, that the Emperor Julian, marching from Constantinople, had been forced to halt his army, and met with disaster and death; and under the ruins of this great arch Townshend, advancing from Basra, had engaged in the battle that eventually brought his division to disaster and captivity. And now Maude, encamped for the night beside the ancient city walls, was pressing forward with his whole force to the capture of Baghdad and Samarra.
