Sunday.—“I had a little scrap with the squadron. We got a sight of about 800 Arabs and Turks, and the Regiment, which was for duty that day, turned out after them. We could not catch them, but on going home had a rearguard fight, which devolved on my squadron, and wherein they pleased me.
“This rearguard business, the worst and most unsatisfactory to do, is the Arabs’ great game. We had two or three more days’ reconnaissance. We accomplished nothing, and then were sent on a show to try and bridge the river Tigris higher up. This was a failure, and we rather got it in the neck, so you won’t see anything of it in the papers. The Regiment that day was in reserve, so I saw very little of it, but of course I know what happened.
“On Christmas Eve we went off to deal with a hostile Arab chief down south. That meant another night march, and so on. But we found the bird had flown, and had to content ourselves with sacking his fort and village, and collecting what cattle and sheep we could.
“We got back here on Boxing Day, and it then rained for a week or more, and we lived in mud. But here, of course, we are in permanent camp and under canvas. I must say that so far we have been more than lucky with our weather when out.
“On the 7th we left here again, only got back on the 15th, during which time we were trekking about again, chasing after Arabs, and eventually were chased by them, as usual, on our way home. I had really no fighting.... I have told you all this about ourselves, though it is not in the least important, just to show you the sort of life we lead.”
During this week the Regiment marched down to “Hai Town,” a considerable place on the Hai stream, and collected some supplies and Arab arms. Private Massey gives a sad account of the soldiers’ disappointment at the loss of a good meal in a deserted village.
“Here we seized several fowls and killed a few calves, taking only their livers, kidneys, and hearts, which we carried in our water-buckets. We camped close to the village for the night. After unsaddling our horses and watering and feeding were over, we lit a fire and commenced to cook the spoils of victory. But alas! when the water was nearly boiling for tea, and the livers and kidneys were frizzling in the mess-tins over a hot fire, the order was given, ‘Fall in for line picket!’ Of course that was enough to test the temper and patience of a parson, let alone a soldier, and a steady stream of expletives could be heard as we sloped arms and marched away. That night I had biscuits and bully, a poor substitute for fried liver and kidneys.”
| RIVER FORT, HAI TOWN |
| ON THE TIGRIS |
It was hard, but Private Massey and his “messing-in chum,” M‘Nulty, had better luck a few days later at another village, and the diary triumphantly records how, “During the night M‘Nulty managed to get several livers, kidneys, and hearts from the slaughtering place, and we had fried liver and kidneys served up hot before réveillé next morning, as well as a mess-tin full of hot cocoa, made from tablets I had sent from England.”
Private Hugh H. Mortimer—January 18.—“Round about the back of beyond. Yours of the 5th ulto. duly to hand about five or six days ago. I say about, because one has no idea as to days and dates, &c., out here, Sundays included. Sometimes we get a volunteer Church parade when things are quiet, but that has been very seldom of late. The last one we had, last Sunday but one, I volunteered for one the night before, but what ho! the parade was for 11 A.M., and we had been on the trek reconnoitring and Arab-chasing five hours by then. We are quite seasoned hands at these quick turn-outs now; often we’re all bivouacked down, giving it the bells in Snore Land, unless it happens to be your turn for guard, then somebody strolls round in a quiet hurry, kicks the sergeant in the ribs, and whispers, ‘Turn out at once; parade two hundred yards west of camp midnight.’ The kicks, &c., are passed on, and we are all saddled up, transport packed, &c., &c., and perhaps three or four miles away in less than an hour, and all that done in the dark, and no noise above a whisper, unless somebody gets a kick in the seat from a bobbery horse, and then there is some excuse for letting it rip.