An Exciting March Along the Edge of Precipices.
The necessity of this soon became evident. The road was crowded with motors of all kinds, and it was by no means a joke to ride a restive horse while leading an obstinate mule, along the brink of a precipice! At 13.00 Enab was reached, where the Squadron was allotted its ground, rather stony, but next to the water troughs, which, however, saved a lot of work.
The following afternoon (July 1st), the road being steeper still, the transport ("A" Echelon), went ahead of the Brigade. The Squadron started at 14.30 (units still moving at half-hour intervals), and proceeded along the main Jerusalem road through the new town, past the Damascus Gate (at 17.30), to the eastern side of the town, where the transport was passed and the Brigade concentrated, the highest point having now been reached (2,590 feet above sea level). A halt of two hours was made, and at 20.00 the descent to the Jordan was commenced. Henceforth it was "down," "down," all the way, with roads just as precipitous as before, but the mountains being so high and steep on both sides, not a breath of air reached us. At 02.30 after a tiring march, and after passing the "Inn of the Good Samaritan," we arrived at the water troughs at Talat-ed-Dumm (1,018 feet above sea level). After watering, about half an hour later, the Squadron found its camping ground, a space barely large enough for a section. In this cramped area the whole of the Squadron was crammed "as tight as sardines in a tin," with, literally, not an inch to spare!
Early next morning, when the sun began to rise, some idea was gained of what might be expected in the Jordan Valley. Although Talat-ed-Dumm, as already stated, is 1,018 feet above the level of the sea, shut in, as it is, among the mountains away from any breeze, the heat there is almost unbearable; the rays of the sun seem to take on a hundred times more power than ever could be believed possible, blazing down from right overhead, and leaving no shade, thus turning the place into a veritable furnace.
The Brigade did not continue the march again until 19.00, when it moved along the old Roman road. Still "down," "down," round sharp bends, and still along the edges of precipices hundreds of feet deep! At length a final, particularly steep slope, brought us to Jericho,[15] on the plain of the Jordan Valley, and 820 feet below the level of the sea. A halt was made here for a short time, and then the Brigade marched north-east (through clouds of dust), to its camping area in the Wadi Nueiame, arriving at midnight. Here, on dismounting in the dark, one seemed to be standing in mud, but, upon closer examination, this was found to be merely several inches of fine dust! Sec.-Lieut. Cummer, whose turn it was to be with the advance party that day, was waiting to show the Squadron its camping ground, which turned out to be as good as could be expected, and alongside a stream. A few bell-tents were already standing, which were appreciated.
The "Beautiful" Valley of Jordan.
The following are a few extracts from the notes of a member of the Squadron, which gives a vivid description of his experiences on the road to the Jordan. He says:—
"The sun was just setting as we approached Jerusalem, and the ancient walls of the Holy City were bathed in orange light against an opalescent sky. The long dusty column of the Brigade toiled its way up the steep hill into the city, and passing close by the Jaffa Gate 'turned left' and followed the main thoroughfare towards the Damascus Gate. Outside of Fast's Hotel (a former German concern, but now famous throughout the E.E.F.) stands a group of officers and soldiers, watching our brigade pass, and cheering us on as we move into the dusk.
"Over the Mount of Olives, past the Garden of Gethsemane (the black points of its many cypress trees now silhouetted against the sky), what thoughts are ours as we cross this hallowed ground amid surroundings so deeply associated with our religion! Some of us may never return, but yet we shall have followed to our fate along a path that still holds memories of that greatest sacrifice the world has ever known!
"Dark has fallen, and the stars shine bright in a velvet sky. At length we approach the little Village of Bethany,[16] 'the town of Mary and Martha'; near which we dismount and breathe our horses for a space; finding a little shop close at hand, we buy some fruit and 'take a pull' at the water-bottle.