Here and at Deraa air raids completed that paralysis of railway movement which Arab raids had produced—and were still prolonging. For on the 23rd they made a fresh descent on Jabir and burnt the wooden framing with which the Turks were trying to restore the bridge that Lawrence had destroyed a week earlier. Lawrence himself for once took a rest and left the other officers to share with Nuri Said the credit of this latest stroke.
Lawrence, as ever, was looking ahead, concerned with the next move while to less discerning eyes the present seemed still unassured. In his view—“our work against the Fourth Army was finished. Such remnants as avoided out of the hands of the Arabs would reach Deraa as unarmed stragglers. Our new endeavour should be to force the quick evacuation of Deraa, in order to prevent the Turks there reforming the fugitives into a rearguard.”
The facts, as unknown to him as to others, were even then in course of justifying him. The Fourth Army was already retreating northward in a disordered stream. A rearguard kept Chaytor’s force from reaching Amman until the 25th, and at the sacrifice of itself frustrated his mission of cutting off the Turks’ retreat northward. The last trains left a few hours before the British occupied the town. But they were soon stopped by the breaches that the Arabs had made in the line, and the Turks who travelled on them were forced to detrain. Only the earlier departures got through to Damascus, by changes of train. The bulk of the Fourth Army was a foot-slogging, footsore collection of crumbling units, shrinking hourly under the privations of the march and the harassments of the loot-thirsty Bedouin.
If Lawrence erred on the side of optimism in suggesting that only unarmed stragglers would reach Deraa, his forecast was fundamentally correct in a strategic sense. For effective existence a regular army must preserve its organized formation, and it ceases to be an army when it loses its cohesion, when tactical bodies dissolve into mere masses of men. It is then “unarmed” strategically. By the time Deraa was reached such dissolution had already gone far, but any pause in the retreat might have meant a chance for the floating mass to coagulate round the few solid fragments that remained. To prevent such a pause was, clearly, the true strategic purpose of the Arab forces, and the most essential service that they could render to Allenby’s purpose.
On the 24th a British aeroplane came over to give them news of further successes in Palestine and a warning that the Fourth Army was now in retreat towards them. That same day the Arab force moved back to Umtaiye, where a vitally important council of war was held on the following morning. In fulfilment of his new purpose Lawrence proposed “that we march north, past Tell Arar, and over the railway at dawn tomorrow, into Sheikh Saad village.” Ten miles north of Muzeirib on the Pilgrims’ Road, and on the flank of the Damascus railway, “it lay in familiar country with abundant water, perfect observation, and a secure retreat west or north, or even south-west, if we were directly attacked. It cut off Deraa from Damascus; and Mezerib also,” The advantages of such a move are easily seen; the insurance against its risks requires more understanding—for a retreat “west or north” would have taken the Arabs in the enemy’s direction. This fact disquieted some of Lawrence’s companions “who did not see that Galilee Lake completely covered the very broken districts into which we should retreat. We could have stood a fortnight’s siege in them.”
Although Young, in particular, expressed misgivings, the Arab leaders rallied to Lawrence’s view, and the force prepared to move. In anticipation of an advance, Nun Shaaian’s camelry had been called up from Azrak, raising the total of the force to over three thousand men, three-quarters of whom were irregulars. As an offset the Bristol fighters now returned to Palestine, and the armoured cars to their base at Azrak. “The country round Sheikh Saad was not possible for cars to fight over; also, very little petrol remained. The aircraft took Allenby our program and promised to visit us at Sheikh Saad.”
The movement north began the same day, but had hardly begun before it was interrupted by an alarm. One of the Palestine-bound aircraft flew back and dropped a note which said that a large body of enemy cavalry was approaching. This was disconcerting news, especially now that the Arabs were denuded of aircraft and armoured cars. Lawrence and Nuri Said had a hasty consultation as to whether they should continue or stand. “It seemed wiser to run, since Sheikh Saad was a more profitable stop-block. So we hurried the regulars away.” The irregular horse were sent to delay the approaching Turks. But these, part of the Fourth Army, were in such a condition as to have no thought of making an attack—“they were only making for Deraa by an unencumbered road.” They had been sighted by the armoured cars returning to Azrak, and when these intervened it was the signal for a panic that scattered the Turks into a swarm of separate fugitives.
Nevertheless, the interruption had not only delayed the Arab move, but threatened it with a more serious and lasting interruption—from a British source. For in camp that night Young argued that the delay had prejudiced the chance of crossing the line unopposed. He went on to urge that the Arabs had now done enough, and would be justified as well as wise in retiring to a position east of the railway, where the Druses were gathering. Here they could wait until the British forces had taken Deraa.
The suggestion was most unwelcome to Lawrence. Morally, because it seemed to sacrifice the Arabs’ honour to their safety, by leaving Allenby’s troops to bear the final burden. Politically, because “it threw away the chance to consolidate the terrain for which the Arabs had been fighting two years,”—he never lost sight of the Cairo promise “the Arabs shall keep what they take.” Militarily, because it threatened to forfeit the best chance of a quick decision. Sheikh Saad would be a lever on the rear of Deraa, loosening all resistance this side of Damascus, and at present only the Arabs were close enough to exert such vital pressure on the Turks’ retreat. As Lawrence has remarked—”Surely if there is one military maxim of universal value, it is to press hard on a rout.” Nor was that all, for in Lawrence’s view the early fall of Damascus would spell the collapse of Turkey, and the breaking of this weak link would in turn loosen the whole cluster of the enemy powers, now fundamentally interdependent.
While Lawrence based himself on the higher issues and military advantages, Young persisted in emphasizing the immediate tactical risks—of pushing across the path of the Turkish Army now so near at hand. He had a vision of their few hundred slow-moving regulars being crushed between ten thousand Turks. Finding Lawrence unconvinced, he fell back on the line that he was a regular soldier and the senior one present. This familiar refuge of mediocre authority was not suited to the unorthodox “conditions of command” in the Arab zone (Lawrence once, most aptly, remarked: “Command in Arabia was like sovereignty in the British Empire—a power in commission, and very difficult to End”). In taking such a line Young did himself an injustice, for he was a remarkable man in his own way, capable of most things except adjustment to irregular ways. Nor was it likely to carry much weight in an argument with Lawrence, who cut it short by saying that he wanted to sleep as he would have to be up early to cross the railway. For he was going with his bodyguard and the irregulars even if the regulars did not come. And Nuri Said’s attitude quietly assured him that they would.
In weighing this discussion one may justly appreciate Young’s view that Lawrence, accustomed to think in terms of irregular mobility, was inclined to demand of the rather immobile Arab regulars what was for their own part an undue risk. But one can see that Lawrence was using two-party scales—and weighing the Turks’ low morale against the Arab regulars’ low mobility. The issue proved one more testimony to his profound insight.
In the morning the march continued and was swelled by an increasing tide of Bedouin and villagers. In the afternoon the iood poured across the railway, unmolested by the enemy but itself leaving a trail of broken rails, blown up and torn up with an enthusiastic spread of energy that was hardly less effective than a more scientific but narrower demolition. After the original demolition, communication along this main line had been in
terrupted for nine days. The line had only been repaired in time for a solitary train to get through that very morning. And now it was broken again. From this moment the railway remained cut and six trains were penned in Deraa, to fall, subsequently, into the Arabs’ hands.
Absence of opposition encouraged Lawrence to enlarge the plan and permitted him to detach forces to enlarge it. A series of offshoots sprouted that night. While the main body pursued its way to Sheikh Saad without having fired a shot, Auda turned aside for El Ghazale station, where he captured a stranded train and two hundred prisoners. Tallal rode farther north and captured the enemy’s large grain depot at Izra. Nuri Shaalan pushed south down the road to Deraa and rounded up another four hundred Turks who were billeted in scattered villages. The Arab main body reached Sheikh Saad soon after dawn on the 27th, its tardy gait accelerated by Young’s anxiously energetic spur, and there the various detachments soon collected with their spoils of the night.
Straight into their arms walked a large party of Turks, Austrians and Germans, with eight machine-guns, and were added to the bag almost before they had realized that they had escaped one war only to fall into another.
From their hill-top at Sheikh Saad, the leaders of the Arab force scanned the country towards the morning horizon. It was dotted with bodies of troops moving north, evidence that the move to Sheikh Saad had exerted the intended leverage. The Turks, receiving fantastic night reports of the Arab force’s strength, had ordered the immediate evacuation of Deraa and burned the six aeroplanes left there—“their last hope of ‘seeing’ where they stood.” Some bodies were too large or too far ahead for interception, but several smaller and closer parties were roped in. Altogether, some two thousand prisoners were taken in the twenty-four hours to noon of the 27th, and many more were contemptuously turned loose after being stripped of their equipment and animals. Beside such intoxicating successes it seemed little, even to the British officers, when an aeroplane from Allenby flew over and dropped a message saying that Bulgaria had capitulated—the first news to them that this other Germanic prop was being attacked.
Events multiplied hourly on the Arabs’ front. Another British aeroplane came over to warn them that two large enemy columns were approaching from the south. One of six thousand men was marching from Deraa and another of two thousand from Muzeirib. It meant that the main mass of the retreating Turks was now at hand. And there was as yet no sign of the British cavalry who should have come to the Arabs’ assistance.
Barrow’s 4th Cavalry Division, which had been on the Jordan around Beisan since the 20th, had not begun its eastward march until early on the 26th. Its leading brigade had orders to reach Irbid and if possible find touch with the Arabs that night, but on approaching the village it met an enemy rearguard, and in the ensuing action suffered a check through lack of reconnaissance born apparently of overconfidence. This check seems to have caused a reaction towards excessive caution. For on the following day, the 27th, its progress was painfully slow, and ceased altogether after midday, for Barrow himself then ordered it to bivouac, at Er Remta, several miles short of Deraa. Thus he had missed by a wide margin the chance of heading off the Turkish Fourth Army—which was a day out of Deraa when he arrived on the 28th.
His missed opportunity exposed the Arab force to seeming danger. In view of the fact that it comprised a mere six hundred regulars, the air warning that, two enemy columns, totalling eight thousand men, were heading in its direction might well have shaken the nerve of a conventional commander. But Lawrence’s psychological insight into the condition of the Turks led him to discount the danger of the situation, while perceiving the opportunity it presented.
To launch his force against the column moving north from Deraa would have been reckless, with the other column across his track. And in any case it was too large a mouthful to be swallowed. Part of the Ruwalla under Khalid were, however, dispatched to help the local Arabs in reducing it by snippets to more digestible proportions. The column from Muzeirib was small enough for quick dispatch, and a further reason for haste was that its route would take it through Tallal’s own village of Tafas. His anxiety impelled Lawrence to ride at once with his bodyguard to Tafas and delay the Turks if possible until the Arab regulars came up in support.
But the move was too late to save Tafas, if not for the military purpose. Smoke was seen rising from the village as Lawrence neared it and he met a few distraught fugitives who told of the ghastly deeds perpetrated when the Turks had occupied it an hour before. The butchery was now complete and the Turkish columns were seen moving out to continue the march north. Lawrence’s men opened fire as a brake on their progress until the arrival of Nuri Said’s infantry and Pisani’s ubiquitously invaluable guns. When these came up and took position, forcing the enemy to turn east towards Tell Arar, Lawrence slipped into the village behind the Turks’ backs, accompanied by Tallal and Auda. From a grey heap a child tottered away as if to escape them, cried out in fright “Don’t hit me, Baba,” and then collapsed with the effort, blood gushing out of a gaping wound. Then they came on more dead babies and the bodies of women, obscenely killed with bayonet-halts protruding between their legs.
Tallal gave a moan at the sight, drew his headcloth slowly about his face, and then suddenly galloped straight at the enemy, to fall riddled with bullets. Auda grimly said—“God give him mercy; we will take his price.” Taking charge of the battle, he harassed the enemy until their formation split into three parts. The smallest, composed of German and Austrian machine-gunners, repulsed all efforts to overwhelm them, but the other two were gradually worn down and destroyed in a running fight that continued till sunset. In view of the vengeful frenzy of the Arabs, Lawrence’s order to take no prisoners was somewhat superfluous. “In a madness born of the horror of Tafas we killed, and killed, even blowing in the heads of the fallen and of the animals; as though their death and running blood could slake our agony.”
Even when the killing was complete and the Arabs were back in camp with their booty, Lawrence could not rest, for thought of his dead comrade Tallal. So he called for his spare camel and with a single member of his bodyguard rode out in the night to join the Ruwalla who were harassing the larger enemy column. He traced them by the distant noise of shots and the light of occasional gun flashes. They had clung on to the unwieldy column all day—it had covered only a few miles—and now in the darkness were closing in. At sunset the Turks had vainly tried to camp, but the Arabs had pricked them into movement afresh, and they were now stumbling on in disordered packets which dripped a trickle of stragglers too bemused by fatigue to cling to their only chance of preservation.
The contrasting conduct of the German detachments moved Lawrence to admiration. “Here for the first time I grew proud of the enemy who had killed my brothers. They were two thousand miles from home, without hope and without guides, in conditions mad enough to break the bravest nerves. Yet their sections held together in firm rank, sheering through the wrack of Turk and Arab like armoured ships, high-faced and silent. When attacked they halted, took position, fired to order. There was no haste, no arguing, no hesitation. They were glorious.”
When Lawrence at last found Khalid he asked him to call off the Ruwalla and “leave this rout to time and the peasantry.” if it was Lawrence’s habit to look ahead, he did not jump until his foothold was sure. The Arab horse and camelry might overhaul these toiling foot-columns when they wished, and meantime the situation at Deraa had still to be secured. “I did not know what had happened to Barrow: and some such security as an occupied Deraa, or a junction with him, was essential as a prelude to advance on Damascus.” Khalid’s brother. Trad, had ridden to Deraa at dusk with half the Ruwalla tribesmen, on a report that the place was empty. But there might well be further Turkish columns coming up and, with Barrow’s cavalry still some distance away, the Arabs might be hammered unless they were speedily reinforced.
Khalid accordingly rallied several hundred of his men and turned south, while Lawrence rode back
to Sheikh Saad. Reaching it at midnight he was greeted by bad news and good. Discord in the camp was already threatening, for the blood-lust of the afternoon was not easily quietened and under its intoxication the Arabs were remembering their own blood-feuds and tribal jealousies. Internal peace had been preserved with difficulty but happily a diversion had relieved the pressure. For messengers had just arrived from Trad to say that Deraa had been captured, with some Ive hundred prisoners. Nasir and Nuri set off thither with their men, and Lawrence also, although it was his fourth night of riding, “My mind would not let me feel how tired my body was.”
Such, indeed, was his impatience that after accompanying Nuri Said for some way he grew tired of travelling horsepace. “I gave liberty to my camel—the grand, rebellious Baha—and she stretched herself out against the field, racing my wearied followers for mile upon mile with piston strides like an engine, so that I entered Deraa quite alone in the full dawn,”—of the 28th. “This was a crazy ride,” he admits, “through a country of murder and night terror.”
Nasir was at the Mayor’s house, arranging for a military governor and police. Lawrence promptly suggested more comprehensive measures, besides placing guards over the pumps, engine sheds and stores, for his desire was to see the Arabs establish an administration before the British could usurp control in their usual bland way. He was just in time, for Barrow’s leading troops were advancing to the edge of the hills above the station in readiness for attack. Lawrence went out to warn them that Deraa was in the Arabs’ hands. “This was a difficult situation to carry off. I took one man with me only: I shaved and dressed in clean clothes and behaved with histrionic nonchalance, being treated first as enemy, then as native, then as spy, before I found Barrow.”
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