Monday, May 1, 1916. H.M.S. “Mantis.” I came back last night. I saw General Lake this morning to report. I think Khalil is going to play the game, but he has got something up his sleeve. A letter has come in from him. The ships, he said, could go. He wanted boats to send the prisoners to Bagdad. He was answered by General Money that His Excellency would understand that we ourselves needed all our boats. Beach went up this morning with two boats, but they stopped him at No Man’s Land.
Tuesday, May 2, 1916. H.M.S. “Mantis.” Last night I went on the P—— to go to Kut, with a rather tiresome Padre. It rained and blew in the night, and was very uncomfortable on deck. I got up at four, and we started soon after. They opened the bridge of boats for us. A launch followed for me, for I was to get off before entering neutral territory.
At the neutral territory I found white flags and an Indian Major, who was tired and nervous. All the way up the river there had been a curious feeling of expectancy and uncanniness; the Indians looked at us, shading their eyes from the rising sun, and our own troops stared. There was an uncomfortable, eerie feeling in the air. The Major said the Turks refused to allow the boats to go on. I telephoned to Colonel Beach, who was leaving H.Q. He told me to do the best I could.... I took a white flag and went out into No Man’s Land and found the man I had talked to before, the Cretan’s brother. I asked what all this meant. This was neither war nor peace. He said that it was our fellows, who had been shooting on the right bank, and there was quite enough shooting while we talked to make one feel uncomfortable. I said that Khalil had given his word that the boats could go up, even if there was an offensive. This was telephoned to Khalil. Our fellows began loosing off with a machine-gun. The beastly Colonel and the Cretan then came out to say that they had telephoned, and later the Cretan came again, alone, to say that our boats could not go through until the others had returned from Kut. He said it might not be necessary to send them up to Kut. We sat and talked in the great heat. I have given Ali Shefket Bobby Palmer’s photograph and have asked him to make enquiries. He sent it back to me by the Cretan, who read me out what Ali Shefket had written me. It was to say that Bobby Palmer was killed. He spoke very kindly and very sadly. I am so sorry for his family.
I went back very tired and found a lot of men making up burying parties which, reluctantly, I sent back again. A lot of the bodies on the river bank look as if they died of cholera. By the way, we have had a hundred and fifty cases in the last three days. Then I shaved on the deck of the launch, while the Turks looked on in the distance. Then I went and telephoned from the front line to Beach. He told me to bring all the four boats back, which I did. The only news is that the Turks have dug in below us near Sheikh Saad.
Wednesday, May 3, 1916. H.M.S. “Mantis.” You foul land of Mesopotamia! This morning bodies raced by us on the stream and I spent most of the day walking in the ruin of battle. I was sent for by General Gorringe and General Brown. They wanted to know why our boats had not come down from Kut. They said that the Turks had been shooting on the right and sent out white-flag parties, 200 men strong, to bury the dead. I said I thought it would be all right about the ships but I would go and see Khalil. The fact that they did not want us to send more ships showed that it was all right, but I thought they would probably like to nag us into doing something indiscreet, and asked the General if he would give orders that there should be no firing except under instructions, as long as they had our hostages. He sent me off to see the Turks.
I rode fast through suffocating heat, with an Indian orderly. At the bridge I found our two ships, the Sikhim and the Shaba, which had come through from Kut. They were banking above the bridge, which was being mended. This altered the whole situation, since the General had sent me out to complain that they had not been let through, and I galloped back. After a talk at H.Q., it was decided that I was only to thank Khalil.
I jumped the trenches and finally arrived at the main trench, where my horse stared down at a horrified circle, lunching. The circle said that no horses were allowed there and that none had ever been there, and that my horse, or rather Costello’s, would be shot immediately by the Turks. So I went to General Peebles, who was lunching farther along in the same trenches, and he had her sent back. I then got a white flag and walked out.... I met a couple of Turks. They wanted us to send up two ships to-morrow, and were quite agreeable. I asked them, as a favour, not to send out again the Colonel who talked German, as I couldn’t stand him, and they said they wouldn’t.
It was blazing hot; a Turkish officer and I sat out between the lines.
There is one incident not recorded in the diary that is, perhaps, worth mentioning, as it had a curious result that will find its place in the sequel to this journal, if it is ever published. On one of the occasions when I was talking to the Turks between the lines, a general fire started from the British and the Turkish trenches. The Turks, for the honour of their country, and I, for the honour of mine, pretended to ignore this fire, and we continued to discuss our business, but in the end the fire refused to be ignored, and, with loud curses, we fell upon the ground and there attempted to continue the discussion. I suggested to the Turks that the whole proceeding was lacking in dignity and that it would be better for each to retire to their own trenches and resume negotiations when circumstances were more favourable.