In the evening I went to the Turkish prisoners with Brigadier Walton121, an awfully stupid man. They weren’t at all well kept, but he promised improvements and was not bad. I gave them money for cigarettes. They said they had surrendered because life was impossible in the Yemen. They had been six to seven years without pay, had had bad food, and perpetual fighting. They had then been put on a ship to go back to their families and then taken off and sent to fight us. Human nature couldn’t stand it, they said. They could never go back. They liked their Commander, Said Pasha, who was good to the soldiers, but they complained of their non-commissioned officers.
Saw Bradford, the General’s ADC, a good man who saw how stupid his chief was. He said that his chief was the fifth in Aden in a short time. None of these men came with a knowledge of the place. Aden is under Bombay, this is small and tiresome, and cannot realize that events outside Aden have much more than a local importance. There was only one officer, Jacob, who talked Arabic, and not a soul that talked Turkish. Wrote to Clayton asking for an interpreter for them.
Sunday, April 2nd, 1916. HMS Euryalus. We are steaming through a grey-black gloom, like an English autumn afternoon, only the thermometer is 92 and there are no rooks cawing. There are lowering skies everywhere.
Have been re-reading Whigan’s Persia and other Gulf books. Wish that I had George Lloyd’s memoranda. The present position is unsatisfactory. We have policed and lighted and pacified this Gulf for a hundred years, and we are entitled to a more definite status. We ought to have Bunder Abbas. Otherwise, if the Russians come down the Gulf to Bunder Abbas, they hold the neck of the bottle of the Persian Gulf and we shall be corked in our own bottle; they would be on the flank of India; they would be fed by a railway, while our large naval station would be cooking away in Elphinstone’s Inlet (which is only another name for a slow process of frying), where we should have battle casualties in peace-time from the heat. Elphinstone’s Inlet to Bushire is a poor Wei-hai-wei122 to a first-rate Port Arthur. Then, if the Russians come down, any defensive measures which we may be forced into taking will appear aggressive when the Russians are on the spot. They would not appear aggressive now. We have a prescriptive right to Bunder Abbas, which we ought to strengthen. It doesn’t involve territorial annexations.
Monday, April 3rd, 1916. HMS Euryalus. Last night I had a long and rather acrimonious argument with Miller and Burmester123 on the question of Arab policy. They said: ‘You must punish the Arabs if they don’t come in on our side.’ I said: ‘You have no means of punishing them. All you can do is to antagonize them.’ They said our men were fools and I told them they could not judge after a month here. They also discussed the most secret things at the top of their voices in the ward room.
There is news of a Zeppelin raid on London. Everybody is anxious.
Tuesday, April 4th, 1916. HMS Euryalus, Muskat. Last night I had my fourth Hindustani lesson, a very easy one. Jack Marriott is extraordinarily quick at languages. My teacher said that his affianced wife is fourteen and that he kept her in a cage at Bushire. Talked over making Bushire a big naval base of the Persian Gulf with the Admiral and Burmester.
To-day is a wild day, Arabia crouching, yellow like a lion, in a sand-storm, and spray and sand flying in layers on the ship. All the land is lurid and the sea foaming and the sky black. If only there had been some sharks at sea and lions on shore, it would have been a perfect picture. This afternoon it cleared and became beautiful. We passed a desolate coast with no sign of life, where it looked as if a man would fry in half an hour in summer. A few dhows on the sea were all we saw. My last journey here came back vividly and the time at Bahrain after we were wrecked in the Africa124.
Wireless came into to say the spring offensive was beginning. At Muskat the Resident, whose name we haven’t made out, called on the Admiral. A tired man. If Curzon had to get his information from such as him, he must have been driven half mad. He knew nothing, and didn’t seem to carry anything. It may be only nervousness and he hasn’t been here long; anyway he depressed the Admiral more than anything I have seen. Later, when he had left he cheered up and told us how he had been only once to Dublin to propose, and had been refused, which he didn’t think he ought to have been. There has been a row at Chahbar, and the Philomel, which we expected to find here, has left, telegraphed for this morning. The news here is that the tribes intend to attack Muskat, but it’s not believed. We went ashore this evening, and a Beluchi boy took the Admiral and all of us round. The people who had not been to the East before were enchanted by the quiet, the scent of musk, and the evening behind the Sultan’s Palace. Last time I was here was on Christmas Day, with Leland Buxton125. I was very sick, carrying a huge bag of Maria Teresa dollars. It hasn’t gained in attraction. The Portuguese forts and the names of the ships that come here, painted in huge white letters on the cliffs, are the remarkable things about the place. There is a sort of a silent roll-call of the ships. The men like writing their names up in white letters. Matrah is round the corner, and looks bigger than Muskat. You have got to get to it by boat. Muskat itself is completely cut off. I saw a straight-looking Arab from Asir who had been with the Turks and had information, and asked the Agent to send him on to Aden.
Wednesday, April 5th, 1916. Muskat. Came ashore early this morning. Then came the Admiral and his Staff, and we went to the Sultan’s house. He had about thrity followers. We drank sherbet like scented lip-salve, to the confusion of most of the sailors. The Admiral and the Sultan talked. Later the Sultan came here with seven ADCs and a nephew who talked very good English, which he had learned at Harrow. The Sultan has got a lot of rather nice-looking little horses and a monstrous goat with ears that are about 3 feet long. The Sultan gets 5 per cent of the customs of this place. Jack Marriott went to see a prisoner in the Portuguese fort. He was Sheikh of a village in which a murder had been committed. They had failed to catch the murderer, and so the Sheikh had to suffer imprisonment himself. Not a bad plan, really. It’s the old Anglo-Saxon idea. That sort of thing discourages men from pushing for power and makes them very energetic, for their own sakes, when they have power. Everything seems quiet in the hinterland. These people here are Bunhas, who cheat the Sultan, some aristocratic Arabs, and gorilla-like negroes. They are mostly armed to the teeth. Sheets of rain fell this afternoon.
Thursday, April 6th, 1916. Persian Gulf. We left early this morning. Some very fine king-fish were brought aboard, about 4 feet long. Great heat. We had an excellent telegram about Gorringe’s126 offensive in Mesopotamia; the Turks driven back. The Admiral in great spirits. I am tremendously glad, because I have always felt that we were coming to a tragedy. I remember the telegram read out to us at Anzac and the cheers – ‘The Turks are beaten! The way lies open to Bagdad!’ – and our enthusiasm and the disappointment after it, and I did not think this would succeed. Hanna, on the left bank of the Tigris, is reported taken. That ought to open Sinn on the right bank.
Friday, April 7th, 1916. Persian Gulf. Yesterday Ghullam Ali came and said that it had caused comment in Muskat that when the Sultan had called on the Admiral at the Residency the Admiral had not accompanied him down stairs to the door. Ghullam Ali had answered that the house was the Resident’s, not the Admiral’s, but he did not appear satisfied with his own answer. To-day we were told by wireless telegram that we had a slave of the Sultan’s on board. Quite true; so we have. He said he had been with the Sultan eight years and that if he were sent back he feared for his throat. He drew his finger across it very tenderly, and everybody roared with laughter. I do not see that the Sultan has a leg to stand on. If the man went to him eight years ago, he went either of his own free will, in which case he can leave, or he was sold, and we do not recognize anything except bondage, no traffic in slavery.
The Philomel’s prisoners have been transferred to us. One of them looks like an old nobleman. His name is Shah Dulla. He held up Chahbar for 4,000 rupees, like other old noblemen, and was captured with seven bearded patriarchs by the Philomel four
days ago. They are dignified people.
Saturday, April 8th, 1916. HMS Euryalus. Bushire. A very cold morning with a clear sky. It’s a nuisance having lost all my coats. Here I leave Edward127. I hope he will be all right. He is to follow by the first opportunity with the other servants and my kit. McKay, who is a jolly fellow, will look after him. The news this morning is that we have again improved our position and have taken the second Turkish line. The Russians are advancing. There was a fight here a couple of nights ago. Our Agent, his brother and four sepoys were killed last night at Lingah.
Sunday, April 9th, 1916. HMS Imogene. Shat-el-Arab. Yesterday Commodore Wake came aboard, an aggressive type of sea bulldog, very repellent. He said that an officer had put land-mines down, and that some time after this officer had been recalled. People in Bushire naturally wanted him either to remove or mark his land-mines, but he said that they were all right, as they were only exploded by electricity. The following night, however, there were loud explosions when dogs gambolled over these mines, so people still walk like Agag, and walking is not a popular form of exercise round Bushire. To-day we are in a brown waste of waters that I remember well, a dismal hinterland to a future Egypt. We passed a hospital ship early this morning, in these yellow shallow waters. It made one think of Anzac, but there it was better for the sea, sky and land were beautiful and the climate on board very good. Aylmer128 has apparently been sent home. One can’t help being sorry for these processions of disgraced.
The report which we heard yesterday from General Douglas was that when Townshend had to retreat he came across a lot of barley in an Arab village. This he commandeered. He telegraphed some time ago to say that he could only hold out until the 1st April; but if he killed his horses he could hold out longer, as his barley store would not be encroached upon to the same extent. The answer was that he was not to kill his animals as he would be relieved before then. Here we are at the 9th.
Monday, April 10th, 1916. HMS Imogene. Kurna. Yesterday we arrived at. General Cowper129 and Colonel Winter came aboard. They said we had taken two out of the three lines of trenches, that we had to take in the first attack. Then we had been checked. We were now to take the third line last night. The Sinn position remained to be taken. Both positions were scheduled to be taken by the 12th. My feeling is that if we were successful last night, and we ought to have heard by this morning, we have a chance of relieving Townshend. If not there is little chance, for as far as I have seen, where we do not succeed in the first few days we do not succeed at all. Winter said that the Royal Indian Marine were totally unacquainted with conditions here and only less unbusinesslike than the doctors. He said they asked for iron barges from India and were given wooden barges which the banks and the current broke every time. At home we were sending out river craft. They asked here for one type but were told they must have another. They asked them to consult Lynch’s130 people at home and were answered that they were acting on Lynch’s advice. Lynch telegraphed from here and found that Lynch in London had never been asked. The troops have only two days’ supplies. The soldiers in Basrah were cheerful. They said too that for the first time the wounded were cheerful because they thought it had been worthwhile getting wounded and that we were going to succeed. The Turks fled from the first trench but fought well at the second. There is now a storm getting up. The river is a great rolling flood of yellow water, palm trees beyond, and again beyond them, marshes and glimpses of a skeleton land. Marsh Arabs always in the background like ghouls, swarming on every battlefield and killing the wounded of both sides. The Turks are said to say: ‘Let us have a truce and mop up the Arabs and then turn to and fight.’ Nureddin, the Turkish Commander-in-Chief, is supposed to have been at Harrow with Townshend. I should think that it was really a pension at Lausanne. I saw Cox yesterday and liked him again (he and Lady Cox were very good to me years ago in the Gulf) and thought him pro-consular, but he has evidently made many mistakes that probably were inevitable since he knew nothing of Turkish politics, or the larger Arab question. It seems likely that if we relieve Townshend we could then press on to Bagdad, and it would be desirable to do so because otherwise the Russians will be there ahead of us, though the Russians have not yet met any considerable Turkish force down here. If on the other hand we don’t relieve Townshend and have to fall back, we shall be attacked by all the Arabs who are well armed. Gorringe they say is a good man, with rough arrogant manners. Lake131 stellenbosched Aylmer after his last failure. They say a Royal Commission is being sent to India because at home they anticipate a failure here and wish to have a scapegoat, which they have already provided in Nixon132.
I dined with Gertrude Bell133, Millborrow, whom I had last seen at Bahrain, and Wilson, whom I had known before in Bushire. We transfer here at Kurna from the Imogene on to a tiny Admiralty gunboat, leaving as usual all our kit. It is lucky for us the river bends so continually and runs fast as the Turks cannot drift down mines, for they would explode on every corner. I hope we don’t have an expedition to China after this with landing parties, and old steamboats like old-fashioned tricycles and mules etc. I think the Germans must be as bored as we are, too few mules, too many APMs134, etc. This is the most exciting and most tragic war threshold that I have seen. It’s a curious fate which sends us a second time, unprepared, to one of the richest countries in the world, combined fertility and desert, with a stream controlling its future.
Tuesday, April 11th, 1916. HMS Snakefly. On Monday night we got off the Imogene on to the Snakefly, one of twelve gunboats built for this expedition and sent out here in pieces. One has been captured by the Turks. The Snakefly draws 2 feet 9. Webster her Captain, Laws second-in-command. We slept all right. We saw practically no traffic at first on the river and could not understand that we did not pass boats coming back empty for supplies. We passed many Indian troops mainly on the left of the river and isolated stations with telegraph masters in chief. These men go out a couple or four miles into the desert with only a couple of rifles. These small posts contain the maximum of boredom and anxiety, because there is nothing to do, and if any force of Arabs came along they would be cut up. We were fired at once in the night, they thought by an Indian sentry. We passed the dour Arabs in villages and groups on the banks with flocks, herds, buffaloes, goats and dogs, more savage than the Philistines but armed with rifles. We saw a long apparently endless column of our cavalry winding its way through marsh and desert, and the green grass; occasionally fires where meals were cooked. A sight more curious than the Australians at the Pyramids. At 6 p.m. we came to Ali Gharbi. I saw a captain of the 67th Punjabis. He said they were all glad that Aylmer had gone; that Aylmer had looked at an empty position for hours; that the Political Officer had actually been in it and got a bullet through his cap by one of our own men. Aylmer waited to attack until the Turks had come, then on the 8th March we were repulsed. Gorringe was supposed to be a good organizer but they didn’t know about him as a fighting man. Lake, too, was new. Townshend was the man they swore by. 4th Devons with John Kennaway135, he believes, are at the Front. I hope to God he is all right. The day had been fine, but flies that bit like bulldogs everywhere. Every night we have had lightning over towards Kut like a sort of malignant and fantastic star of Bethlehem to take us on.
Wednesday, April 12th, 1916. HMS Snakefly. Last night the weather broke. We had a terrific downpour that wetted everything through and through. The Admiral’s got a cabin about 6 feet long by 2 1/2 across. He put his head out of the window and said: ‘Would any of you fellows like to come in?’ My clothes are the lightest on board and I thought my khaki trousers would tear like a veil. There seemed to be people’s faces everywhere on deck, though there was a lot of water. I kept my dictionary dry. There was no shelter; but it is now fine and bright and anyway one was 40 per cent better off than the men in the trenches. At 7.00 this morning when I had just turned into a dry bunk, the boy scout, 18, who is one of the crew, went overboard. He was rescued and swam lightly and gallantly. Very lucky with the whirlpoo
ls and the sharks. Today is the 12th. On the 12th I went to Mons, on the 12th I sailed for Gallipoli. I wonder what this 12th is going to bring. No kit worse luck. I have one extra shirt and an Acqua Scutum, which I bought for a penny from J. Marriott, one blanket and a Turkish dictionary for a pillow. That is all.
Everything seems greater and greater chaos. Seventeen months of war here and everything as bad as possible. They started with two brigades of Indians who were not good fighters anyhow and never ought if possible to be used on sacred ground. We started with the wrong type of boat, and also Indian Generals who looked on the expedition as a frontier campaign. If we fail to relieve Townshend, I suppose the best thing to do would be to cut our losses and retire to Kurna and hold that line, but if we do that the Turks can fortify the river and make it impregnable. The political situation with the Russians coming on must be risked.
We ran on to the bank last night, and stayed there. We spent an uncomfortable wet night, but got off all right this morning. There was an encampment close by. We couldn’t make out if they were friends or enemies; the Admiral didn’t bother. We all want a clean pair of socks and fewer mosquitoes.
Thursday, April 13th, 1916. Near Sanayat. It was at noon yesterday that we arrived at Ali Gharbi. The Admiral saw General Lake. We are cruelly handicapped by lacking transport and not being able to get it. In the afternoon I crossed the river and saw General Gillman136 at Felahiya. I was very glad to see him again. He had been on our left with the 13th Division at Anafarta. One of the best men I have met. We had a long talk. He spoke critically of everything more or less, and that is his job. He blamed Townshend for saying that he could only hold out until the end of January. That was first of all. We then rushed up troops and attacked, without any preparation for wounded, ambulances, etc., and failed. It’s easy to be wise after the event. If we had had proper notice this need not have happened. Then Townshend had got five thousand Arabs with him, the bouches inutiles told enormously, but Townshend had apparently promised these people his protection and nothing would make him send them away. A geste de seigneur. Many of those with him, especially the older men, were down with nerves. The strain had been too great. He did not think that he had a dog’s chance of breaking his way out. Aylmer had sat and looked while the Turks brought up their reserve, then the 13th had been cut up. Robertson removed Aylmer who was spent and broken. The 13th Division were very young. They had had a bad knock at Anafarta. Still in the beginning of this show they were very keen and their officers could not keep them back on the 8th March. On the 9th April they could not get them forward, they were very cold and tired. A hot cup of coffee might have made the difference. We should have to face Arab trouble he thought, and to look to the defences of Nasryah which would soon be cut off by marshes from and could easily be turned into another Kut by the Turks. He thought the line that we ought to defend was Nasryah–Amara –Ahwaz. I suggested his going with the Admiral. He agreed. He said strongly that India had starved and ruined the show. That Beecham Duff had wanted him to go and see him, but that he could not on his way out, but that he had heard the apologia pro vita sua, which was that a man called Meyer, the Treasury Member for the Council of India, had absolutely refused to give help. Here in this flat land they needed observation balloons. None forthcoming. They asked for transport from May to Christmas, and then got one launch. He said there had of course been local faults too. Townshend had at first protested against going on. Nixon had told him to, because those were his orders from India, but when a new Turkish Division had come up to Bagdad, Townshend had never been told.
Mons, Anzac and Kut Page 20