I don’t know how long I was lying there; but I was terribly thirsty, and drank two bottles of water—my own and one I took from a dead man near me. I could not see him, but I felt by groping about his equipment that he was a British chap.
There were not enough of our men to hold the trench, and they were forced to retire and leave me.
The Turks came up in the trench, and I heard them shouting something like “Garrah! Garrah!” though it may have been “Allah! Allah!”
They were fearfully excited, and I thought it was all up with me then. I never gave myself any hope.
The Turks were running about the trench, looking for our chaps. They ran over me, no doubt thinking I was dead. I was lying on my side, with my hands covering my head, holding the bandages to stop the blood from coming out. I had to do that, because it was only a field-dressing.
I knew then that I had lost my eyes.
I felt as if all the bones in my body were broken with the Turks running over me and stepping on me.
After some time had passed the Turks settled down a bit, not being so excited, and then they began to search the trench and examine the bodies and men in it. Seeing that I was not dead, they propped me up and began searching my pockets. They were talking away, but, of course, I could not understand them. They were not rough just then, but they were afterwards, when I was being led out. They took my pay-book and photographs and everything I had.
I stood up, and then the Turks took me to a communication-trench about ten yards away.
As I was passing them in the firing-line they hit out at me with their hands, trying boxing competitions on me. They dared not have done this if a Turkish officer had been about.