M.E.F.,
14th November 1918.
“Dear Mr and Mrs Wallace,—It is with a sad heart, and with the deepest sympathy, that I write to you of Jim’s presumed death. Jim and I were staunch friends together ever since we were in France, and shared one another’s hardships and joys all the way through. Some time back ‘A’ Section was split up; Jim went to ‘C’ and I to ‘B,’ so at the actual time of crossing the river (Tigris) we were apart, as my section was about one hundred yards in front. From 12 midnight the night previous to crossing, we had been marching, and crossed at 6.30 P.M. the following evening, and during that period we had covered a distance of 57 miles, which was a pretty stiff march, and men and horses were feeling a bit done up. When we got in the water some of the horses were restless and started plunging and rearing. This is what happened to Jim: I learnt it from men who were near him at the time. His horse reared and Jim came off. The current of the river was very swift at the time, and it was also dark. We have lost four men in the squadron in the same way, and nothing has been heard of any of them since. The next morning we got into action! The 13th Hussars formed line and charged up a hill at the Turks. The hill was too steep to get up, so when they got half-way up they did a dismounted action, and within a quarter of an hour the Turks on the top of the hill showed the white flag, and over one thousand surrendered; by late in the afternoon the 7th Cavalry Brigade had beat the whole of that force, capturing nearly three thousand prisoners. The finest piece of work the Brigade has done during the war. I am sure poor Jim would have delighted in it. We then proceeded on towards Mosul, and came in contact with, and captured, two hundred and fifty reinforcements with 7 machine-guns and some big guns. Towards the evening, with one Regiment of Indians (14th Lancers) and one section of 16th Squadron M.G.C., we overtook and captured between two and three miles of convoy and thirteen hundred prisoners. We are now in Mosul. When about 20 miles from Mosul an aeroplane dropped a message which said that the Turks had surrendered Mosul, and that hostilities with Turkey had ceased. Jim has left behind him a memory which one can never forget. Loved and respected by all who knew him, as he was always ready to offer his help and sympathy to any one in trouble. And you have cause to be proud of having had a son who kept up the traditions of a Britisher to its highest level, and was a true and noble soldier to the core. You might please write to Mr Justice Eve and let him know, as I am sure that Jim would wish it, as he held his late squadron leader, Capt. Eve, 13th Hussars, in the highest esteem, and I know that a short time ago Jim wrote to Mr Justice Eve thanking him for the photo. I hope that Jim’s brother who was wounded has quite recovered by now. Well, bear up, and try and look on it for the best, as I know that all your trouble has come in a heap lately. I unfortunately lost my mother in an air-raid since I have been out here.—From Jim’s old Chum, 56799, George Costello.
“P.S.—If I should gather any information I will write and let you know at once.
“56799 L.-Cpl. Costello,
15th Squadron M.G.C.,
7th Cav. Brigade,
Mesopotamia.”
Extracts from letter from Private E. Cleary (6759 “B” Squadron) to Miss E. FitzPatrick of Accrington, Lancashire.
“Mesopotamia,
25th November 1918.
“Dear Lizzie,—I don’t know how to start answering your letters—I have received that many from you for the last 4 days; they all came of a rush, the reason of it was they were in the country, and could not reach us on account of the shortage of transport....
“Well, we had some hard fighting for about a fortnight, but we managed to get round them and capture the lot; we were very lucky, for they nearly captured us instead, but we managed to get a good mounted charge in on them, and that was the turning-point of our last battle out here. Our Regt. alone captured 1300 prisoners, but it was a good job they did surrender to us, for they could have wiped out every man of us if we fought on, because our Regt. was not near up to strength: we lost a good many. It was hard lines on them, for it was our last fight; they surrendered Mosul to us the next day, and a good job too, for we were about done; we went 2 and 3 days at a time with no rations except a pound of dry flour per man, and you may know what a big feed one can get out of a pound of flour (I don’t think), and that flour was ground barley. You would laugh to see us cooking it: we used to get a bit of tin, make a fire under it, then mix the flour up with some water into a dough, then roll it out into little flat cakes and put it on a tin and bake it, so you may know what nice bread it was (I don’t think), but still I was glad of it; they kept us going all right, and even now, although we are in Mosul, all we are living on is what we buy off the inhabitants, but of course everything will come right again as soon as we get settled down a bit. We were within 15 miles of Mosul when word came through that they had surrendered the place, so we stopped where we were until next day, and then news came through that Turkey had packed up altogether; it was taken very quietly, every one was that fed up, not even a cheer was given. Then we marched into the City and took over all that was there: they had plenty of stuff—food, guns, and men: it seemed so strange we were fighting them a few hours before, and then all that was to be seen was our officers and their officers shaking hands and making much of one another; but it wasn’t so in the case of the men—if our fellows had their way they would have been scrapping them, for we haven’t forgotten some of the tricks they done to our fellows; but still, thank God! it is all over. Well, we had been in Mosul for about a week when the news came through of Germany packing up: even that was taken very quietly, for it was raining as hard as it could, and we didn’t have a bit of shelter, so the only remarks that were passed was, it’s a bloody good job it’s over; so that is how we enjoyed the good news: of course every one was delighted but didn’t show it. Well, Lizzie, you will think I have gone mad on the war, so I will change the subject. I don’t know if you have heard much about Mosul or not; well, it is supposed to be one of the great Sacred Cities out here—they say it’s mentioned several times in the Bible (but as I don’t know much about the Bible I cannot say); it is much the same as Baghdad, but a little more up to date: there is a couple of Catholic Chapels here; of course all Armenians are Catholics, and besides, there is some French here too, but give me one corner of Accrington and they can keep all this country. Just outside Mosul is the ruins of Ninevah, the great city in olden days that was swallowed up by the great earthquake: it is a big mound now, but there is big holes made in it that a man can crawl through, and you can see the ruins of the City beneath: I have been in them many a time, for we find Guards on it every day; so that is how we pass the time away going through it. If you ask one of the Priests they may be able to tell you about it (but I shall be glad to see the back of it). The climate up here is just like England—in fact it feels colder to me: it has rained ever since we’ve been here, and I can tell you it’s none too comfortable, for all we’ve got is one blanket and no other shelter of any kind. Well, Lizzie, it’s time now I came to thank you for all the trouble I have put you to; first of all, I don’t know how to thank you for getting me that Roll of Honour, as you say it is a nice thing, but the reason I wanted it mostly was because I had a good few mates who were on there. God rest them! Mr Rolfe was my Troop Officer, he led us in the charge, and the Turk that killed him was also killed by one of our fellows, so that was one consolation; if you look on there you will see Private Stones’ name; he came from Whally. Pte. M‘Nulty came from Birkenhead, Pte. Cole from Halifax, and Tpr. Spicer from Dublin: he was only about 18 years old. I shall tell you all about them when I go to see you at No. 41. It was very kind of Mr Eve for writing such a nice letter; his son was a nice fellow and a fine leader. I seen him get killed, he was shot right through the head. It was good of you getting them framed. Again I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Now I must thank you for sending Xmas card, and above all, I was most delighted at getting poor Dan’s Memory Card. God rest his soul. It’s the only thing that grieves me, is he did not live so as to have the pleasure of meeting him again. I was always looking forward to having a good time with him if both of us had the luck, but as you say God knows best.”