The Thirteenth Hussars in the Great War

by H. Mortimer Durand

It was an important decision, and full of interest in many ways. Mesopotamia is the cradle of history, sacred and profane. It is the legendary site of the Garden of Eden, and from its plains, from Ur of the Chaldees, the Patriarch Abraham set out with his flocks and herds for the Holy Land. After his day it was the site of great empires. Babylon lies in the centre of it, Nineveh not far to the north, Shushan a few score miles to the east. It has seen Grecian and Roman armies as well as Asiatic hosts, and the first explosion of the new Mahomedan faith was across its plains to Ctesiphon, and Persia, and Syria. Baghdad soon arose as the Mahomedan capital, and became famous throughout the world. Undoubtedly, to attack Turkey in Mesopotamia was to cover India and Persia from attack on her part; and to beat her out of Baghdad was to strike her a blow which would resound all over the world. She would perhaps exhaust herself in trying to recover her position there, as Napoleon exhausted himself trying to recover from a similar sea-borne blow in Spain. From the time when Townshend was ordered to advance on Baghdad, the Mesopotamian Front became one of the important theatres on which the Great War was being played.

As a fighting ground, Mesopotamia had some advantages for Great Britain, and some great drawbacks. The southern part of it came down to the sea, and communications with India and England were therefore open. Everything required for the conduct of war could be supplied. Moreover, though the climate of Mesopotamia was hot in summer, it was perhaps, as before remarked, better suited for the Indian soldiery, who formed the bulk of the British forces, than what Europeans would consider a more healthy climate, the temperate climate of Northern France. Its plains too were free from the geographical obstacles of mountainous countries. Right up to Baghdad they were flat and bare, very different from the wild fighting grounds of the Indian frontier, with their rocky peaks and forest-clad hillsides and rushing torrents.

On the other hand, the summer heat in Mesopotamia was excessive, even for Indians, and desperately trying to white men, while in winter the wind and cold were at times severe. Moreover, the very flatness of the Mesopotamian plains was a difficulty. The great rivers which wound across them were in the rainy season swollen by the melting snows of their upper courses, until they overflowed their banks, and caused vast inundations and swamps impassable for troops. The march of military forces in the hot season, with the thermometer in tents at 120° or more, was too deadly to face, and movement in the flood season was impossible; so the real fighting season was almost limited to the time from the end of the heat till the filling of the rivers—that is, from about the middle of October to the middle of March.

At all other times, and indeed at all times, the rivers themselves were the chief means of communication for troops and supplies; and boats of any carrying power were few. Even when armed movement on land was possible, any advance against an enemy in position was a formidable task, for the flat ground afforded not a vestige of cover, and troops had often to go forward to the assault of trenches over ground as smooth and bare as a billiard-table, perhaps up to their knees in mud, with deep swamps on each side preventing any attempt at a turning movement. Mud, indeed, proved to be a more formidable obstacle than mountains and ravines. Troops could not advance over it with any freedom or swiftness, and they could not camp in it without misery and loss; nor could they be fed in large numbers, for it made the transport of supplies very difficult. Then the whole country, though not really friendly to the Turks, was inhabited by Arabs who were anything but friendly to an invader. Whether in the marshy lands near the rivers or on the dry plains beyond, they were always hanging on the flanks of an advancing or retreating force, their desert horsemen as elusive as the “web-footed” men of the marshes, swift to gather and as swift to vanish in the mirage of an enchanted land where all seemed fantastic and unreal. With stubborn Turkish soldiery, organised by Germans, intrenched in large numbers along the river lines, and supported by larger numbers of these irregular auxiliaries on every side, the country was no easy field of action for a British army.

Nevertheless, in spite of all difficulties of climate and ground, the British expeditionary force had by the autumn of 1915 established itself in control of the river mouths, with a considerable Turkish province in its hands. Then, in an evil hour, came the decision to advance on Baghdad, and a single British Division was pushed forward. It was a very daring if not an insane project, and it failed. Before the end of the year the unfortunate Division found itself besieged by superior forces at Kut-el-Amara, and in the following April, after a siege of five months, a starving British force of more than 10,000 men, nearly 3000 of them white men, was marched away by the Turks into bitter captivity.

This was the heaviest blow that had ever been dealt to British arms and British prestige in Asia. Not only had 10,000 men been taken prisoners, but the Turks had inflicted upon other British forces trying to relieve them a series of bloody repulses. Struggling forward, time after time, with splendid devotion over the muddy flats, in vain attempts to drive from strong lines of trenches an enemy superior in numbers, our soldiery, white and black, had lost over 20,000 men in killed and wounded, and had been forced to admit that for the time they could do no more. The Turks had won a striking success, the measure of which to Great Britain was the loss of an Army Corps.

But, much to its credit, the British nation refused to accept the defeat in Mesopotamia as a final one. Though staggered by it and the still greater repulse at the Dardanelles, England resolved that the Turks should yet be conquered. Smarting from her defeats, she was not wholly just to the leaders who had done all that men could do to effect impossibilities. Some honourable reputations were sacrificed, and wrong done to brave and capable soldiers. But at least her resolution did not fail. Her legions, rapidly increasing not only on the soil of the British Islands but throughout the Empire, and made available by her sea-power for employment all over the world, were poured upon the Turkish frontiers. The Turks had dealt her two stunning blows; but brave fighters as they had shown themselves to be, they were to learn, as Germany learnt, that it is not prudent for any nation to rouse the English.

In Mesopotamia the military chiefs who had failed in their attempts to reach Kut before its garrison was starved into surrender, were relieved of their commands, and the Mesopotamian force was entrusted to General Maude, who, unlike them, was now given time to collect a large army, properly organised and equipped, and was helped in his task by every possible means both in India and in England. Troops were sent to him in numbers sufficient to let him meet the Turks on at least equal terms, and immense efforts were put forth to give him the necessary equipment for scientific modern warfare, and the transport necessary for effective action. Roads and railways were established, and above all, a great fleet of river steamers was gathered from various parts of the world, in order that he might be able to use to the full the natural highways of the country. During the whole summer of 1916 these preparations were steadily pushed on, with a view to another advance when the hot weather would be over.

It was to this country, and during this pause in the conflict, that the Thirteenth were diverted from their work in France. The diversion was of course a disappointment. The Regiment could no longer hope to join in the coming triumph on the Western Front. Not for them the grand pursuit to the Rhine, and on over German country to the gates of Berlin, and the final march Unter den Linden. It was hard to give up such a prospect. But it has been shown in what spirit the order was received. They were soldiers, and their duty was to do their best wherever they might be most useful to the country. If they were more wanted in the East than on the Western Front, so be it.

And, after all, perhaps it might be as well for themselves. The coming triumph in Europe might be long postponed, might even turn out to be one for the Infantry and guns alone. In the plains of Mesopotamia they might reasonably look for some Cavalry ground—for some chance of striking a blow on horseback and justifying their existence. There, at all events, they would not have the work and the honour altogether taken out of their hands by the airmen, who were to them what the eagle was to the horse, and find themselves chafing in impotence while the enemy defied them from the shelter of his trench lines, against which they were as useless as unarmed men. Mesopotamia held out some hope to the cavalryman who still believed in his arm. He might yet get home with lance and sabre, and take his revenge upon the footmen who had so long held him at a distance with fortifications and “villainous saltpetre.” Asia had always been the land of the horseman. Surely it would be so again.