“Yes, one day is much of a muchness with the next, unless it is that one has no time to think about what day it happens to be. Often I have asked five or six chaps the date to put in a letter, and then had to consult the orderly sergeant at the finish. Still, I don’t suppose it would make any difference to one’s destination if one happened to snuff it on a Friday or Sunday. We get in bags of warm spots now ever since we came right up, about two months ago. Sort of places that make the short hairs stand out on the back of the neck, and wonder if the next 12-pounder or so on has your number on it. I thought I knew a bit of what it feels to sit in a trench with them coming over in France, but galloping about in open country with shrapnel flying about licks it hollow. I saw one drop in a machine-gun section about fifteen yards on my right some fortnight ago, and that one bagged four men and three horses, and then several pieces hummed past me.... Then again the cod was galloping across a hail-storm for a mile from cover to cover. I took the Hotchkiss gun across—I am a nob at Hotchkiss guns now—and the remainder of the section followed some thirty yards behind at the canter. We got five shrapnel quick, and not more than thirty or forty yards away, and two of them in front of me and one behind the two parties. I looked round after the thud, having a good horse, and you talk about dust-flying—well, I thought ‘There’s only me in this section now,’ and made a lightning spurt for a deep donga, dropped into it with a crash, and pulled up. About six seconds afterwards two more crashes, and there appeared the rest of the team, a bit pale and smiling rather sickly smiles, but not a scratch on either men or horses, so you may judge of the luck of the mob. The worst of this country is, you can’t depend on the district for any supplies like you can in France; after we’ve had nothing but a couple of biscuits and one 12-oz. tin of bully from day to day for several days, when we get out of touch with the ration stands, that just seems to be the time when one could do with about four good sit-down knife-and-fork square meals per diem. When it’s like that I go up two extra holes in my belt and try not to think of steak and chips or anything in that line. Never mind, I will make it all up when and if I get home. Roll on that time too. Have just received a letter from Fannie, and she says people at home say, ‘Oh, he’s safe in Mesopotoom,’ but by the H.P. I never felt unsafer in France, Somme or no Somme. You may think that it’s generally understood that the last round is for yourself, before being taken alive by Arabs, although the Turks seem to fight very fair, and there are no tanks to walk behind and no trenches to bob down in.”

Lieutenant Chrystall—January 20.—“To-day we were within one and a half miles of Kut. ‘So near and yet so far,’ and we hear to-day some trenches have been taken, so things are looking up a bit. To-day we got a splendid ration of beef, a sirloin, probably the first one ever seen in Mesopotamia.... One has to be very drastic with these people, the women being just as bad as the men. If you do not take strong steps they will shoot you in the back, even if they have shown the white flag, which they usually do when we are advancing, but when retiring they shoot at you.”

Captain Eve—January 20.—“When we approached our objective, the big native town [Hai Town], they came out with a white flag and pretended to be friendly, and we treated them as such, and bought supplies and things from them, and of course they made a fortune out of us.... Then Sunday, the 14th, we started back. As soon as we had left, our rearguard was heavily attacked (native regiments), and we had some casualties, and were very much delayed, and the Regiment sent to their support, but had very little to do.”

January 26.—“I wish I could tell you really all about things out here, but it is quite impossible. Only I do wish now above all else that I could have gone to Infantry or gunners. I have slowly but surely come to the conviction that we are years out of date, and entirely or almost entirely useless, and will never take a real part again.”

2nd Lieutenant J. O. P. Clarkson—February 2.—“Since my last letter we have done quite a bit. First we tried to go round the Pushtikuh Mountains,[25] so early one morning we started off in order to cross the bridge. It took us over two hours to get across, and then we were the leading unit of the 2nd Brigade. We went past a fort to the Wadi river for water, and then pushed on to try and cross the marsh. But we got hopelessly bogged, at least the guns and the transport did, although they had double teams in as it was. Meanwhile we were all anxiously looking at the sky, as there was a devil of a storm coming up. So those people who had crossed the marsh had to recross it again. We camped down just off the marsh, and had scarcely got the lines down when it started to pour with rain. We crawled into our valises (no tents), and slept, and woke up soaking, boots full of water and thoroughly wet. It was still raining. We got up at 5 A.M., and had to wait until they had got all the waggons out of the marsh, some having been left there the evening before. We waited about five hours. Luckily it then turned out fine, and we started back. Our things were more or less dry by the time we got into our camp by the fort about twelve or sixteen miles from the Arab village. We got back to our permanent camp about 2 P.M. next day. The going after that rain was very heavy, and both men and horses came in very tired. We had a very short rest and now are out again.”

The Regiment had returned on the 27th January to the Hai river, and from there during the following week made several reconnaissances to the westward, beyond Kut, where the Turks had a bridge across the Tigris, and some strong intrenched positions on the south bank. They had been dislodged from some points lower down, but still held on desperately to the westerly bends of the river in order to protect from attack the line of communications of their main force in Sannaiyat. Until the 4th February the Thirteenth, though at times under heavy fire from rifles and machine-guns and artillery, got off practically without loss. Then there was a sharp fight, in which the Cavalry was called upon to act dismounted in conjunction with the Infantry, and the Thirteenth had some casualties. An officer was killed and two wounded, with a few non-commissioned officers and men.

The officer killed, Lieutenant Munster, was much respected in the Regiment, “a very gallant, zealous, and capable officer,” as his Colonel reported. All accounts agree in describing him as a man of exceptional character, who, though young, had already made his mark. Quiet and reserved, with strong religious views, he was spoken of in unusual language by many of those about him. “I am not good at expressing myself,” one of them wrote, “but I may say his daily life was one which I shall try to follow: it was one of doing good to his fellow-men; my admiration for him was unbounded, and my grief worse and more intense than I ever felt in my life.” His death seems to have been due to his unselfish devotion, for having led his men forward and seen all of them under cover preparing for another rush, he walked across the open to avoid exposing one of them in sending a message to another officer, and was shot through the heart. Such was the fire at the moment that his Colonel said: “I judged it inexpedient to attempt to recover his body, and to remove a brother officer, Mr Williams Taylor, and some men who were wounded, until after dark.”

Lieut. D. A. Stirling Lieut. J. A. Lord
(Wounded at Imam Mahdi,
25th February 1917)
2nd Lieut. J. F. Munster
(Killed at Shumran Bend, 4th February 1917)
Sergt. W. D. Tassie, D.C.M. S.S.-M. J. Brearley, D.C.M.

Nor were they the only two to distinguish themselves on this day. Captain Robinson, commanding “B” Squadron, had been wounded in leading the advance shortly before, and Sergeant Tassie of “D” Squadron received the D.C.M. for his coolness and courage in bringing up ammunition when the transport animals were shot down.

Other officers of the Regiment also showed great courage on this day, and it is a temptation to record what was afterwards written of them by an eye-witness—a Captain in one of the Indian regiments of the Brigade.