A couple of days later Lieutenant Mendes and Sergeant Levy were out scouting along the intricate course of the Mellahah, to the north of our lines, when they walked into an ambuscade; the Sergeant fell at the first volley, but luckily Mendes was not hit. He refused to surrender, and, in spite of some fleet-footed Turks making the pace very hot for him, he eluded the lot and got back to our lines safely, but thoroughly exhausted.
CHAPTER XIV.
We Win Our First Honours.
On the 28th August a patrol of six privates, under the command of a sergeant, crept up to the Turkish trenches near the Umm esh Shert Ford. It was a dark and windy night, so they got quite close to the enemy without being seen. When about thirty yards short of the Turks they lay down and then observed a sentry standing a little way off. One of the patrol, Private Sapieshvili, a Jew from the Caucasus, began to crawl forward and cautiously stalk the unwary sentinel. When eventually he succeeded in getting behind him, he stood up and advanced boldly, pretending to be a Turk, for he was able to speak a few words of Turkish. All at once he pounced on the sentry, seized him by the throat and bore him to the ground.
The enemy in the trenches heard the scuffle and opened fire and one man of our patrol was badly hit. Sapieshvili, however, stuck to his prisoner, disarmed him and took him triumphantly off to our camp. The Turks in the trenches numbered about a score, and kept up a heavy fire, so the rest of the patrol withdrew. Before doing so, Private Gordon lifted his wounded comrade (Private Marks) and carried him back to our lines under a rain of bullets from the Turks.
I recommended these men to General Chaytor for their gallantry and coolness under fire.
It was unfortunate that Private Marks' wound proved to be a mortal one. He had only joined the battalion some three days previously, and this was his first encounter with the Turks. He had served in France and other war centres, and had passed through many a fierce fight scathless.
We gave him a very impressive burial the following morning, under the lea of a little hillock, with his face turned towards Jerusalem; the spires of the buildings on the Mount of Olives could actually be seen from the spot where we were standing around his grave.