To hold Turkmanchai was impossible. We had stopped the Turks in front, but they were working round our flanks, and it was only a question of hours when we should be isolated and cut off from Mianeh. We were outnumbered by fully ten to one, and the flanking parties of cavalry which the enemy threw out were alone larger than the British combined force of regulars and irregulars.
A fresh retirement was decided upon, and on the morning of September 7th we evacuated Turkmanchai. The wounded and the sick were removed in transport carts, and two hours after midnight the head of the column moved slowly off in the darkness. I was in charge of the advanced guard, and found myself in command of a varied assortment of Persian irregulars, some of whom had "distinguished" themselves at Tikmadash and Karachaman and had been "rounded up" by British troops during the retreat. They were a motley crew, and what infinitesimal amount of pluck they ever possessed had long ago evaporated. In the advanced guard it was difficult to restrain their impetuosity. They dashed off at top speed as if they were riding a fifty-mile Derby race to Mianeh. But their one impelling motive was to place as many miles as possible of dusty road between themselves and the oncoming Turks before daylight.
By dint of threats of summary punishment they were brought to heel and ultimately held in leash. Silence it was impossible to impose, short of some form of gagging, and they chattered like a cageful of monkeys, utterly heedless of the danger of betraying our presence to the enemy. Then, too, their superheated imagination saw Turks growing on every bush. "Osmani anja!" "Osmani anja!" (The Turks are there!) they would cry, indicating some village donkey or goat taking a hillside stroll. Fortunately for us, the Turks showed themselves to be singularly lacking in energy, and were not keen on risking a night attack in unknown country, or they might have ambushed the advanced guard half a dozen times before it got clear of the danger zone. With our Persian "braves" to rely upon, there would surely have been a "regrettable incident" to record officially.
The Turks waited for daylight, and then they attacked the main body and the rearguard, but were beaten off, and the column extricating itself reached Mianeh in safety.
CHAPTER XVII
EVACUATION OF MIANEH
We have a chilly reception—Our popularity wanes—Preparation for further retirement—Back to the Kuflan Kuh Pass—Our defensive position—Turks make a frontal attack—Our line overrun—Gallantry of Hants and Worcesters—Pursuit by Turks—Armoured cars save the situation—Prisoners escape from Turks—Persians as fighters.
Mianeh, pampered, spoon-fed Mianeh, which had grown fat on British bread and comparatively wealthy on British money, gave the retreating column a chilly reception.
The bazaar looked at us askance, and the Democrats spat meaningly in our direction and muttered a malediction upon our heads. There was joy in the eyes of the people which they took no pains to conceal.