Kut-el-Amara,
April 11th, 1916.
"General Sir Percy Lake, the Army Commander, wired me yesterday evening to say: 'There can be no doubt that Gorringe can in time force his way through to Kut. In consequence of yesterday's failure, however, it is certainly doubtful if he can reach you by April 15th.' This is in answer to a telegram from me yesterday morning to say that, as it appeared to me doubtful that General Gorringe would be here by the 15th, I had reluctantly still further reduced the rations so as to hold on till April 21st. I hope the Indian officers will help me now in my great need in using commonsense talk with the Indian soldiers to eat horseflesh, as the Arabs of the town are doing."
(Sd.) Charles Townshend,
Major-General,
Commanding the Garrison at Kut.
April 12th.—This entry I am making with my eyes almost shut. I have had a miraculously narrow shave, and got a nasty shock and contusion since the last entry. At about 3 p.m. shells began to k-r-r-ump into the town, and the fire steadily thickened. I had just finished the war diary, and was sitting up on my bed restlessly awake with stomach pains, and Square-Peg was fast asleep by the other wall, when a high-velocity shell crashed into the room and burst. I was completely dazed by the concussion, which drove me against the wall. In fact, I was half stunned, as I was directly in line for the back-lash of the burst. I wasn't certain I wasn't hit, and my back felt queer. The room was so dark with dust and the dense yellow fumes that stank horribly that I couldn't see an inch. We were half smothered in débris. The walls and roof in part collapsed, letting fall dozens of bricks which had propped up some huge beams on the ceiling.
Square-Peg, who was groping about, assured me he wasn't hit, and hurrahed when he heard I was alive. However, on trying to rise, I found myself partly paralysed in my back, my spine in severe pain, and I could hardly see at all. He helped me out of the yellow gases, for I couldn't walk alone. I lay down in the mess, and after drinking some water felt better. But I am horribly shaken and suffer acute pain in whatever position I lie. In fact, last night I couldn't sleep, for every movement awoke me.
It proved to be a segment shell that had burst inside the room, and dozens of pieces were buried deep all round the walls and on the floor.
There is no luck like good luck. Tudway says it was an intended punishment for the affair of the fowl, which, nevertheless, we ate completely.
We are sleeping in the mess until the wreckage is cleared up. Major Aylen, commanding the officers' hospital, visited me, and, although there is no incision, says there is a contusion over the spine from a blow. Either a brick must have hit me, or when I was flung violently back I struck the broken bed. I am writing this in bed.