With the Persian Expedition

by Martin Henry Donohoe

Their appearance, at all events, was very warlike, not to say terror-inspiring, and, like some of the wild tribes of Polynesia, they relied chiefly on the effectiveness of their make-up when on the "war-path" to bring about the discomfiture of their enemies. The Sowars were unusually awe-inspiring, hung about as each was with two or three bandoliers studded with cartridges. Each carried a rifle, a sword of antique design, and a short stabbing blade.

The Naib, or Lieutenant, who commanded them, was equally formidable from the point of view of arms and equipment. He had a Tulwar shaped like a reaping-hook, and a Mauser pistol, the butt of which was inlaid with silver.

The tactics of the Sowar levies were something in the nature of a compromise between a "Wild West" show and opéra bouffe. They would gallop at full speed up a steep hill, brandishing their rifles over their heads and yelling fiercely the while. It was always a fine spectacular display with a dash of Earl's Court realism thrown in. The rifles of the Sowars had a habit of going off indiscriminately during these moments of tense excitement when they were riding down an imaginary and fleeing enemy, and the British officers who watched their antics found it expedient in the interests of a whole skin to remain at a respectful distance from the manoeuvring, or—should one say, performing?—Sowars.

Swagger and braggadocio were the principal fighting stock-in-trade of the levies and their Persian officers. They were always clamouring to be led without delay against the Turks in order that we might have an opportunity of witnessing what deeds of valour they would perform under enemy fire. The time did come, and our brave auxiliaries found themselves in the front line with a Turkish battalion about to pay them a morning call—and we realized more fully than ever that the hundred-years-old dictum of that incomparable humorist, Hadji Baba, still held good, "O Allah, Allah, if there were no dying in the case, how the Persians would fight!"

The Turks having outstripped us in the race to Tabriz, a belated attempt was made early in July to get in touch with the sorely pressed Jelus in Urumia and stretch out to them a succouring hand. They had sent us a despairing appeal for help. Their ammunition was running out; their available supplies were nearly exhausted; and they were on the verge of a military collapse. The Turks threatening Urumia had offered terms if the Jelus laid down their arms, but, fearing treachery if they accepted, the War Council of the Jelus refused the enemy offer, advising unabated resistance, and urging that an attempt should be made by the whole army to break out towards the south and march in the direction of Bijar and Hamadan, in order that they might find safety behind the British lines.

Lieutenant Pennington, a youthful Afrikander airman who was noted for his coolness and daring, was despatched from Kasvin on July 7th. He was to fly to Urumia carrying a written assurance of speedy British aid for the beleaguered garrison there. Pennington made a rapid non-stop flight to Mianeh, covering the distance from Kasvin in a little over two hours. He spent a day at Mianeh, where he carried out a series of useful demonstrations intended to impress the local Democrats. They had never seen an aeroplane before, and were rather vague as to its offensive potentialities. Moreover, they had been inclined to be scornful of our want of military strength so glaringly revealed at Mianeh. But now, at all events, the Democrats were duly impressed by Pennington and his machine. They argued that, if one aeroplane could come from Kasvin in a couple of hours, so could a whole flotilla, and armed with death-dealing bombs. Not altogether ignorant of the doctrine of consequences, the Democrats realized the value of oratorical discretion; so for a while they put a curb on their poisonously anti-British tongues.

Meanwhile Pennington continued his aerial journey to Turkish-menaced Urumia, the city by the lake shore, where a Christian army was sheltering and wondering anxiously whether it was succour or the sword that awaited it. Within two hours of leaving Mianeh, the intrepid airman was crossing over Lake Urumia heading for the western shore. He dropped low on approaching the city itself, and his unexpected appearance brought consternation to the inhabitants. Aeroplanes were unknown in those parts. They felt that this visitor from the clouds could hardly be a friend; therefore he was presumably a foe. Reasoning thus, the Jelus lost no time in blazing away a portion of their already slender stock of ammunition in the hope of bringing him down. The aviator had many narrow escapes, and so had his machine. He landed with a few bullet holes through his clothing, but his aeroplane, happily, had not been "hulled," or he would have been immobilized at Urumia.

As he alighted, the Jelus rushed up to finish him off, for they were not noted for being over-merciful to Turks falling into their hands. But seeing that he was English, they embraced him as a preliminary, and then carried him shoulder-high into the city. He was the hero of the hour. The people were delirious with joy, and women crowded round and insisted on kissing the much-embarrassed aviator. As the weather was very hot, Pennington was wearing the regulation khaki shorts. One Nestorian woman, after gazing compassionately at the airman's bare, sunburnt legs, and noting the brevity of his nether garment, shook her head sadly and said she had not realized till then that the British, too, were feeling the effects of the War and were suffering from a shortage of clothing material. There was a whispered consultation with some sister-Nestorians, and a committee was formed to remedy the shortcomings of Pennington's kit. The women ripped loose their own skirts and, arming themselves with needles and cotton, pleaded to be allowed to fashion complete trousers for the aviator, or at least to be permitted to elongate by a yard or so the pair of unmentionables he was wearing. The youth blushed furiously, and was at great pains to explain that there was still khaki in England, and that it was convenience, and not any scarcity of material, that had caused the ends of his trousers to shrink well above his knees.

Pennington flew back from Urumia, and it was arranged that the Jelus with their women and children were to march south by way of Ushnu and Sain Kaleh to meet a British relieving force moving up from Hamadan and Bijar.

Early in August Osborne had several brushes with the Turks on the Tabriz road. The enemy flooded our lines with spies, chiefly Persians from Tabriz, and pushed reconnoitring patrols as far south as Haji Agha, forty miles from Tabriz. In these road skirmishes our Persian levies behaved with their characteristic unsteadiness. Once they were fired upon by hidden infantry at seven hundred yards, they forgot their promised display of valour, their courage oozed out at their boots, and they promptly bolted. An aerial reconnaissance revealed detachments of cavalry, artillery, and infantry marching south along the Tabriz road, but Headquarters in Bagdad refused to attach any importance to this concentration, and for the moment were deaf to Wagstaff's reiterated demand for reinforcements, and especially for a mountain gun or two.