Mons, Anzac and Kut

by Edward Melotte

  When I left England, she was in a curious state of official indecision. It would then have been, obviously, greatly to our advantage had we been able to get the Turks out of the war, for the collapse of Bulgaria would almost certainly have followed. On the other hand, Russia had been promised Constantinople and the Church of Santa Sophia, and while these promises held it was idle to think that the Grand Turk would compromise or resign his position as head of Islam. So the dread in the minds of Englishmen of friction with Russia was unconsciously adding square leagues to the British Empire, by forcing us reluctantly to attack an unwilling foe. In the end, we chose both Scylla and Charybdis, for the Turks remained in the war, Russia went out. Yet we survived, victoriously. Allah is greatest.

  The story of this campaign is the most difficult to tell. The writer was in a humble position, but in a position of trust, and can only record what he saw and the things with which all men’s ears were too familiar in Mesopotamia.

  Diary. Monday, February 28th, 1916. SS Mooltan. Off Marseilles. The Germans are by way of not torpedoing our boats until Wednesday, but to-day is St. Leander’s Day, a day of ill omen. They have torpedoed four boats these last days near Marseilles. We are off the coast of Corsica, dull and unattractive. Johnny Baird99 is here. The officers on board have had no orders of any kind. There are very few civilians. If I was OC I should make all officers who have it, wear mufti, and order those who have no mufti, not to appear on deck if a submarine comes along until further orders. Johnny and I have put on life waistcoats like most others. The only thing one notices is that everyone shows a preference for the open air. I wish myself that our cabin was not upon the lowest deck.

  Wednesday, March 1st, 1916. SS Mooltan. Yesterday Johnny Baird, Captain Cummings100, and I went ashore at Malta. We heard of the torpedoing of the Maloja101 off Dover. I saw Admiral Limpus102, an old friend who greeted me with cries of delight, then dined with Admiral de Robeck103. I quarrelled rather with Roger Keyes. He still wants to go up the Dardanelles. I told him it was simply Drake wanting to singe the beard of the King of Spain; this seems to me to be a war of ants and attrition, and no one ought to think of the glory of the Army or the Navy before winning the war. I do not think he cares if he is at the bottom of the sea, as long as the country and the Navy is covered with imperishable splendour. He talked about the blizzard as if it had been a zephyr. You can’t beat that sort. A lot of old Admirals rolled up. They had rejoined long past the age as Commanders of sweepers, or in any and every kind of capacity. The spirit of their Elizabethan ancestors was not more tough or fine than theirs. They asked me to stay on for the Intelligence Conference, but I said my orders were to report myself to the Commander-in-Chief so must go on. Johnny and Jack Marriott stayed.

  Monday, March 6th, 1916. Ismailia. We landed without incident from the Mooltan. The last day, at luncheon, there were two tremendously loud bangs, the lids of hatches falling; they sounded exactly like cannon shot. Nobody moved at lunch, which I thought was good. Am staying with O’Sullivan, a nice, kind, earnest, furious, working man, but eighteen years in the tropics have made him very nervous. To-night I went to the Club and found Kettle, alive, whom I thought dead – very glad to find it wasn’t true – and crowds and crowds of Anzacs. Then went for a walk with the Admiral; I understand why men like serving him. Afterwards tea with General Birdwood and a yarn about the Peninsula. He, like all of them really, talked of Anzac with a sort of reverence. He said that they had got a grudge against him at the War Office as an Indian soldier. The truth I think was that he wanted to command an Australian Army, and that that would have been run on political lines. I dined with General Godley, who was sad about himself. He said that he was going to be left here; that Birdie had proposed leaving the New Zealanders behind until he could command a Division but that he had refused this. I have been doing work between the Navy and the Army; found them very stiff. Yesterday they said: ‘What can you want to know?’ Also, in my humble opinion, what they are doing is wrong.

  Friday, March 10th, 1916. Cairo. Back again at Zamalek. They have sown a proper, green, English lawn instead of the clover which we put in for economy. Saw Clayton104 in the evening. Agreed that for the time being our Arab policy was finished. If the Russians go ahead and threaten Constantinople, the French agreement may stand. If, on the other hand, they cannot get beyond Trebizond, then Arabia will probably be a Confederation, perhaps nominally under the Turks. The Powers would probably look favourably at this, as it would be a return to the bad old principle. It would constitute one more extension of the life of the Turk, outside Turkey, made miserable to him and his subjects, during which all his legatees would intrigue to improve their own position. They would go on fermenting discontent amongst the subjects of the Turk, and when it did not exist they would create it. It is the old cynicism that this war has done nothing to get rid of. On the other hand, if annexation follows there will be two results: Firstly, the population in the annexed French and Russian spheres will be rigorously conscripted. I think we ought to do our best to prevent the Arabs being the subjects and victims of High Explosive Powers. They themselves don’t realize what it means, and simply look forward to the boredom of having to beat their swords into ploughshares and take up the dullness of civilization. The second result is that we shall have vast, conterminous frontiers with France and Russia, and that we shall be compelled to become a huge military power and adopt the Prussianism that we are fighting. There ought to be a self-denying ordinance about annexation. We should none of us annex.

  Wednesday, March 8th, 1916. Cairo. I arranged for Storrs105 to come down the Red Sea with the Commander-in-Chief. In the evening I saw the Sultan at the Palace. He prophesied that the Russians would be in Trebizond in eight days, and that we should be in Solloum in the same time; he put our arrival at Bagdad at the end of May. The snows were melting, he said, and the waters of the Tigris and Euphrates rising; the Turks might be cut off and might have to surrender. He said we did not understand the Moslems or what was their fraternity. In his hall he had two signs, ‘God and His Prophet,’ and the other, ‘I live by God’s will.’ Any Moslem who entered saw these, and knew him for his brother. He would rather have been a farmer, dressed as a farmer, and, he added, rather quaintly, sitting in his automobile, amongst his fields, than in his Palace with interviews before him all day long. He hgad accepted the Throne when Cheatham offered it to him after consideration, because the good of Egypt was bound up in our success, and as Sultan he could help us. He regretted he had not been allowed to help more. He was loyal, but neither we, nor any man, could buy his honour. We could throw him over at any moment. So be it; he knew what his honour and individual dignity demanded. He said, Maxwell was the only man who understood the Moslems. Even the Duke of Connaught could hardly have done better in Egypt. He said ‘Lady Maxwell, that is a very different question’. It was a great mistake that Maxwell was not trusted and that he himself was not consulted on Moslem questions. He, the Sultan, had deplored Gallipoli, both before and after. We English were bons enfants, but did not understand the East. He gave many messages to his friends, especially General Birdwood. He wanted to be remembered to George Lloyd and Sir Mark Sykes.

  He is a grand Seigneur and a very attractive one.

  Went to the Zoo in the afternoon; extraordinarily beautiful. I love Cairo. I saw the High Commissioner106, talked of George Lloyd to him and suggested he should be sent down the Persian Gulf, folly to use a man who knew it like he did for inspecting horses’ fetlocks.

  Thursday, March 9th, 1916. Cairo. Saw Jaafar Pasha107, a prisoner. He was wounded by a sword-thrust in the arm. They had had a good old-fashioned mêlée. He was just off shopping, taking his captivity with great philosophy. It was beautiful weather. The Bougainvillea was purple and scarlet all over the house. It looked as fairylike as a Japanese dwelling.

  Friday, March 10th, 1916. Cairo. I lunched with General Maxwell. He is sad. It is a pity that they are taking him away. Two men are wanted for Egypt: (1) like Max
well, with a name that makes things gracious and (2) a fighter. Now, at the moment when it is apparent that there is not going to be any serious fighting, we are taking away the man with the name. He wanted to know who was responsible for the contradictory orders in Egypt and the chaos at home. He and the High Commissioner are very sick with each other. McMahon has not had the initiative to take any responsibility and yet resents Maxwell’s having taken it. Everyone is very sad about Desmond FitzGerald’s death. There were very few like him, no one quite like him. He was extraordinarily fine, too fine to be a type, though he was a type too, though not a modern one. I shall never forget him during the retreat; always calm and always cheerful.

  The Admiral came up on Thursday night. Bron108 came. He said his leg troubled him flying, but he loved it. I saw his Colonel, who told me that he was worried, as if he fell in the desert he was done, as he could not walk great distances like the others, with his wooden leg.

  I have got a ‘Who’s Who,’ for Arabia, but I want a ‘Where’s Where.’

  Saturday, March 11th, 1916. Ismailia. The Australians have been at their old games in Cairo, stealing motor cars, looting shops, holding up Despatch Riders with revolvers, and firing the revolver off wounding people. Maxwell ought to have shot them. They will have to do that in France. We have to pay for their extraordinarily fine fighting qualities, but it’s a pity that they can’t be more quiet. They admire General Birdwood, who’s got a difficult job; instead of punishing he calls them ‘boys’ etc., but I don’t think he could have done differently in Anzac. We owed a lot to their initiative when all their officers were killed and it wasn’t worth bothering about salutes. In peace they resent General Godley’s discipline, and that’s natural, but it’s inevitable, and they know it, when it comes to fighting. They say his idea is to make them Guardsmen in a given time. Charlie Bentinck came down with us, going home; I hope he gets there all right.

  Tuesday, March 14th, 1916. Ismailia. Maxwell is now definitely recalled. I suppose it will simplify a complicated situation, but it’s a pity to take the man away who is everything in Egypt, at the moment when it is apparent that we shall not need to defend Egypt. On Saturday I dined with the Admiral and Captain Potts, late of the Khedive’s109 yacht. Like Jimmy Watson, he loved his Chief. Sunday I lunched with the Admiral and General Murray110 whom I thought a weak, stiff man. He apparently means to stay at Ismailia which sounds impossible. Saw my old friend Tyrrell. Yesterday the Admiral left with Philip Neville, his Flag-Lieutenant, for Solloum. I should have liked to have been in that show.

  We are by way of leaving after the Viceroy comes, that is on the 25th of this month. India will have nothing to do with any aerial attack on the Turks outside Aden. India is eaten up with jealousy.

  Wednesday, March 15th, 1916. Cairo. This morning went to the citadel to see Jaafar Pasha for a minute. He is becoming less and less a prisoner. Was off to shop, and said that he heard that Cairo was a nice town. He was unmoved by the war. I said to Mary111 that the war ought to prevent one’s pulses ever fluttering again. Mary said to me: ‘Yes, unless it makes them flutter forever.’

  Saw Clayton. He was against a Naval Base at Sefaja. Said Alexandria was the place. If we fortified Jaffa or Haifa it was obviously against our neighbours of the future. Alexandria could be improved into a Gibraltar. Sefaja wasn’t any use commercially and Port Sudan only a few hours distant would answer both purposes. He thought Jacob of Aden112 a good man, who would be quite ready to have Aden taken away from India and given to London. Percy Cox113 of the Gulf, an unrivalled knowledge desired to be the great Pro-Consul of that part of the world, ‘and the man who wants that,’ said Clayton, ‘would like to see it cut adrift from India’. He deplored Maxwell’s going.

  Wednesday, March 22nd, 1916. Ismailia. I have neglected my diary. Yesterday I went and said goodbye to General Birdwood and walked with him to the station talking of Mesopotamia. He said he couldn’t believe it was a question of Townshend114 surrendering. He could leave his wounded and fight his way through to Aylmer. General Godley, he and everybody went to see Maxwell off. It was a very remarkable demonstration; all were there – red hats and tarbouches, blue gowns and the khaki of the private soldier. Murray’s staff triumphant. Everyone else downhearted because of the old boy’s departure.

  To-day I rode with Temperley through the groves of Ismailia, out by the lagoon. The desert was in splendid form. The Australians were bathing everywhere and French sailors were paddling. I lunched with General Russell115 who is a broad-minded fellow. I dined with General Godley. All the talk was of Mesopotamia. He took the opposite view to Birdie about Mesopotamia, and said that no beleaguered force had ever cut its way out. I could only think of Xenophon, whom General Gwynne116 said wasn’t beleaguered, and Plevna, that didn’t get out.

  Sunday, March 26th, 1916. Cairo. This morning we leave for Mesopotamia, by the Viceroy’s train. He arrived yesterday, having been shot at by a torpedo on the way. The soldiers are becoming discontented. Their pay is four months due, and when they get it they are paid in threepenny bits for which they only receive twopence in exchange. Hence their irritation. Tommy Howard’s brigade has nearly all got commissions. There are now forty-seven officers and only enough soldiers left for their servants. Saw Uncle Bob G., who reminded me of Sayid Talib, the Lion of Mesopotamia and the terror of the Turks, with whom on one occasion I travelled from Constantinople. Sayid Talib once wanted to get rid of a very good Vali of. He went round to all the keepers of hashish dens and infamous houses and got them to draw up a petition: ‘We, the undersigned, hear with anguish that our beloved Vali is to be removed by the Merciful Government. He is a good man, has been just to all, and most just to us, who now implore the mercy of the Sublime Porte.’ Constantinople was in a virtuous mood. The experts of were summoned. They expressed their horror at the support which the Vali was receiving from all the worst elements in the town. The Vali was removed. Sayid Talib scored. He was on our side, and remained in, but we made him a prisoner and sent him to India, I believe.

  Monday, March 27th, 1916. HMS Euryalus. Gulf of Suez. Yesterday, Sunday, the Prince of Wales, the Viceroy, General Birdwood and the High Commissioner travelled down to Ismailia. Storrs and I were also of the company. General Godley was at the station to meet the Prince, and a lot of others. Storrs began intriguing with the Viceroy in the train, then with the Prince of Wales on the boat, and now with the Admiral. The Prince of Wales was more imaginative than I expected. He said that he hated being at home, it worried him thinking of the others in the trenches.

  Tuesday, March 28th, 1916. HMS Euryalus. I wonder what situation we shall find in Mesopotamia. Willcocks117 in Cairo said that the Arabs were feeding Townshend’s people. ‘In the old days,’ he said, ‘Elijah was fed by the ravens – that is, “orab,” which means Arabs as well as ravens. Those were the days of faith, to-day we take the second meaning.’ That was how he explained that miracle. I still wonder if the Turks won’t keep the flag over Mesopotamia.

  It is getting hotter and hotter and changed three times yesterday. I am working at Hindustani. The Staff here are all first class. It’s luck to find Colonel de Saumarez118, who was on the Bacchante, now promoted.

  Thursday, March 30th, 1916. HMS Euryalus. Took a bad fall down the ladder and am lame. Storrs sleeps in a casemate. The only ventilation is through a gun whose breech has now been closed. Have been writing précis and political notes. We are bound to make mistakes in dealing with the Arabs, but they need not matter if they are passive mistakes; they can be corrected. If they are active, they are much harder to remedy. Our people divide the world into two categories. The Ulstermen, the Serbs and the Portuguese are good, loyal people, because they are supposed to put our interests first, whereas the Bulgars, the Arabs, etc, are beastly traitors, because sometimes a thought of self-interest crosses their minds.

  It’s raining hard this morning and it’s cooler. Hope to get into the trenches at Aden, but doubt there being time. Am learning Hindustani. A number of
the same words mean different things. Kal means yesterday or to-morrow, i.e. one day distant; but on the other hand parson means the day after to-morrow or the day before yesterday. This must occasionally make muddles about appointments.

  Friday, March 31st, 1916. Aden. Got up early this morning and went over to the Northbrook. The Turks at Lahej are being bombarded. The Admiral’s going part of the way to see it. Six aeroplanes, or rather sea planes, have gone. A heavy, hot, grey day. The Turks are fighting well. There is no ill-will here. They say the Turk is a member of the club, but has not been in it lately. We are feeding the Turks and they feed us. Caravans come and go as usual. There are great difficulties in the way of blockade. We can’t hit our enemies without also hitting our friends, and yet if we do nothing our prestige suffers.

  A conference this morning. Fifty years ago Colonel Pelly119 said that the Turks were like the Thirty-nine Articles; everyone accepts them, but nobody remembers them or what they are. India seems extremely apathetic about Aden. We left early this morning. Last night I saw Colonel Jacob, who has been twelve years at Aden and in the hinterland. The Arab here doesn’t seem to realize there is a war any more than many in Egypt. An old gentleman went for a walk the other day to see his son in Damascus. He was eighty, nearly blind and blundered across the canal and only got held up at our extreme outposts. He had been in the habit of taking this walk once in two years and knew of no reason why he should not do so now. Wood120 realizes the difficulty of explaining things to the ordinary soldier. He says you have to treat every case with knowledge and on its merits. On the whole he is sympathetic to the Arabs, but he and Jacob agree in their dislike of India, and in their liking of the Arabs. Jacob seemed to me a pretty good sort of a man, long service. I should think he was fairly obstinate. The real thing about Aden is that if the India Office disapprove of the suggestions made, they ought to send a man to consider the circumstances, as the Egyptian Government does in the Sudan. The bombardment this morning is supposed to have been effective.