But the task of the Expeditionary Force to Mesopotamia was not yet completed, not by a great deal, for now there came news of that channel, the Kut-el-Hai, leading from Kut-el-Amara to Nasiriyeh, and it became necessary to seize both points before our troops could have any security. Preparations were therefore made to attack both places, and, to the delight of Geoff and Philip, they were both detailed to accompany an expedition, designed to strike at Nasiriyeh, through those marshes which they had already penetrated.
Meanwhile, to bring our tale up to date, one needs to mention that, as the months had gone by, as that trench line had been dug firmly across Belgium and France, and had held up the advance of the Germans on Calais and Paris, the Russian line too had checked the enemy, had advanced across Poland and into Galicia, and was within an ace of invading Austria-Hungary. In the Caucasus, a Turkish army corps had been severely dealt with by the Tsar's forces called to that inhospitable region; while an ambitious if reckless attempt on the Suez Canal, on the part of Turkey, had met with dismal failure.
The taking of Amara, in fact, coincides with the period when Britain had recovered from the first shock of this sudden and unexpected conflict, when she was training those hundreds of thousands of volunteers who had answered the call of their country, and when, while fighting beside the French in France, she still had troops sufficient to attack the enemy elsewhere. Even as those gallant Indian and British troops with the Mesopotamia Force charged down upon the trenches at Shaiba, other British troops—men from England, from Australia, and New Zealand—were gathering in the neighbourhood of Egypt. Indeed, within a few days there occurred a landing on the Peninsula of Gallipoli, a most desperate and gallant undertaking, which launched Great Britain and France into a conflict the difficulty of which was stupendous, and the result of which cannot be said to have been altogether a failure, though it failed to gain for us the capture of those forts which line the approach to Constantinople. A conflict, in fact, abortive, as it proved, yet one which struck the Turks an exceedingly heavy blow, and set up a record of bravery and determination on the part of British and French which will never be exceeded.
Was there ever such an expedition as that which set out for Nasiriyeh?
"Queer, ain't it?" remarked Philip, on the point of embarking with his chum Geoff on board the steam-launch which they had captured from the enemy in the midst of the same marshes whither they were now bound. "Did you ever see such a collection of boats and fellows? and the navy look as though they meant to make a race of the business."
There was a string of bellums—the shallow light craft common to that part of Mesopotamia, and used by the natives for progress through the marshes—towing at the tail end of the steam-launch—bellums crammed with British soldiers and with Indians. There were motor-boats near at hand, pushing their busy way across the Shatt-el-Arab; there were shallow-draft steamers brought from India, cranky, dilapidated, rusty vessels, which looked as though they had done long service, and had arrived at a time when they were fit for the scrap-heap only, or to be relegated to long and continuous rest. As a matter of fact, many of these curious craft—long since abandoned as useless by their owners—had been brought across from India, surviving in a most extraordinary manner a voyage which might have been expected to smash them to pieces, and to shake their already quivering sides so severely that if they had been swamped, if the ocean had poured through many a crevice, it would have been a wonder to no one. And there they were, at anchor in the river, their decks packed with men of the navy—men in duck white or in khaki, grinning fellows, who shouted to their comrades of the army.
"Cheer oh, navy'll be in first!" they bellowed. "We're in for the Turkish stakes, and back ourselves to beat the army."
What a scene it was when the expedition set off at length! The lighter craft finding their way through the marshes, and steering an irregular course amongst the muddy islets, whilst the vessels drawing deeper water ploughed their way along the uncertain course of the Euphrates, and stemmed the gentle flood down which Phil and Geoff had steamed with their Turkish prisoner. Little tails of open boats trailed at the stern of every steamer, while not a few, manned by natives, with soldiers aboard them, were paddled into the marshes farther afield on the outskirts of this huge inundation. There were other troops wading knee-deep, all with the one objective—Nasiriyeh and the Turkish camp. Perhaps never before had such an amazingly curious, amphibious expedition been undertaken, and it is quite certain that never before had British and Indian sailors and soldiers enjoyed a thing more hugely.
"A regular sort of mud lark," Phil called out as the launch ran on a submerged bank of mud, and came to an abrupt halt, causing the bellum towing nearest to her to collide violently with her stern and capsize promptly. There were roars of laughter as the men fell into the water and got to their feet again, dripping, and standing there with the water hardly higher than their knees, grimacing and shaking themselves like dogs.
"All overboard!" cried Geoff, who was in command of the launch. "There's no use in trying to pole her off, for she's hard and fast. Overboard with you!"