It was a heart-breaking experience as any soldier will understand.
At last I rode over to my old Gallipoli friend, Colonel O'Hara, who was on the Staff of the 10th Division, and he, like the good soldier that he is, helped me out of my difficulty as far as it lay in his power.
What a difference it makes when one meets a good Staff Officer! Not nearly enough care is given to the task of selecting the right men for this all-important branch of the Army. They are too often selected for any reason except the right one, viz., efficiency.
The Brigade to which we were attached was fortunate in having at least one good Staff Officer. The Brigade Major was a thoroughly capable soldier, and always out to help in every way in his power.
The Brigadier often caused me much inward amusement by pointedly appealing in my presence to the judgment of a certain Colonel X, an officer junior to me, who was in command of a section on our right. If I had a sangar built which commanded a good field of fire, it was sure to be found fault with, and another had to be built in a site chosen by their joint wisdom.
One night the gallant Brigadier came across the spot where I had my outlook post established; he thought it was in the wrong place, of course, and consulted his friend, Colonel X, as to where it should be.
"Don't you think it ought to be on the top of this house?" said the General. The Colonel climbed to the top of the house, gazed round in the inky darkness, came down again, and said he quite agreed with the General, as all good, well-trained Colonels, with an eye to the main chance, invariably do!
I was then ordered to put the outlook on the top of the house, which had a flat roof, where a man would be seen by every Turk for miles round! Needless to say, I never placed an observer in this absurd position.
Just about this time one of my men, quite a youth, was found asleep at his post, and as this is about the most serious crime of which a sentry can be guilty, he was tried by General Court Martial and sentenced to death.