CHAPTER XVIII
THE TIMELY BOMB
This is not the place, even if it were now possible, to describe indetail the brilliant campaign in which General Maude retrieved previouserrors and disasters, and struck a blow at German aggression in theeast from which, it is to be hoped, it will never recover. A bareoutline will suffice to bridge the gap between Burnet's last day on theisland, and the day, three months later, when, fully recovered from hiswound, he made another solitary entry into Bagdad.
On the night of December 13 the great advance, the climax of months ofthe most careful preparation, began. General Maude, by a surpriseattack, seized a point on the Hai stream some seven miles south of Kut,and threw his mixed force of cavalry and infantry northward towards theenemy's formidable entrenched position round that town. About a weeklater, his airmen, who had done invaluable work in scouting and inraiding the enemy's camps, heavily bombed his ammunition dumps higherup the river. While one of his corps, under General Cobbe, was makingdeceptive demonstrations against the fortifications at Sanna-i-Yat, onthe north bank of the Tigris, another, under General Marshall, steadilypressed the Turks back towards the south bank; and parties of cavalryharassed their communications between the Tigris and the Euphrates.
For three weeks more the enemy maintained an obstinate resistance toGeneral Marshall's pressure; then they were compelled to abandon alltheir positions south of the river, and fell back beyond Kut. It wasnot until February 22 that General Cobbe's force captured the first twolines of trenches at Sanna-i-Yat. On that night also British andIndian troops, after heroic efforts, forced the passage of the river atShumran, some ten miles upstream, and next day the fortifications whichhad defied all the attacks of the troops who attempted to relieveGeneral Townshend were in British hands. The immediate result was thefall of the town which had been the scene of almost the greatestsurrender in British history.
There was no relaxation in the forward movement. While cavalry andairmen chased the fleeing enemy on and over the land, gunboats harriedthem from the river. Here and there they made attempts to stand, butlost so heavily, especially in guns and prisoners, that their flightdegenerated into a stampede. Within less than a week they had beenhunted half-way to Bagdad. Then the rapidity of the pursuitnecessitated a halt, in order that supplies might be brought up and theextended lines of communication secured. This inevitable haltprevented General Maude from destroying the Turks as a military force,and enabled them to restore some semblance of order.
The advance was resumed on March 5, after only a week's delay. TheTurks had had time to throw up entrenchments in more than onewell-selected position, and here they contested the ground with thestubbornness for which they are famed. At the Diala river, twentymiles below Bagdad, they were massed in great strength, and fought withcourage and tenacity to prevent the British troops from crossing. Thestory of the forcing of the passage, after repeated failures andterrible losses, by the Lancashire and Wiltshire regiments, is one ofthe most heroic in our annals.
When the river was crossed, the enemy lost heart, and withdrew towardsBagdad. On March 11 General Cobbe occupied the railway station on theright bank of the Tigris, and General Marshall flung his advancedtroops into the outskirts on the left bank. Without parade or theinsolence of victors the British troops marched into the city, betweencrowds of inhabitants, a mixed population with elements from almostevery race known in the East, shouting, dancing and clapping theirhands. For the first time in history the city of Haroun al Raschidwelcomed a Western conqueror.
A few hours before this historic event, Firouz Ali, the barber ofBagdad, came within an ace of losing his life.
When it became clear that the city must soon fall to the victoriousBritish forces, the Turkish soldiery, with a licence which their Germanmasters could hardly have exceeded, had begun to plunder theinhabitants, among whom they were always foreigners and the agents of acorrupt despotism. They stripped the houses of everything valuablethat they could carry away, and with threats, blows and actual murderextorted huge sums of money from the wealthier citizens. Having thusprovided themselves, they crowded into the last outward-bound trains,and left the city to its fate.
Their departure was the signal for all the ruffians of the place tosally out of their haunts and loot the defenceless citizens. Checkedby no authority, restrained by no scruples, they pillaged from midnighttill dawn, gutting houses and shops, sparing none who resisted them,and even wrenching away the beds of the wounded in the Turkish hospitalfrom under them.
Among those who suffered in this orgy of plundering was Firouz Ali. Hehad barricaded his house and shop, but in the early morning an excitedmob forced an entrance, and in a few minutes stripped the place ofeverything, sweeping even such trifles as shaving brushes along withevery portable article of value that the old man possessed. Vigorouslyprotesting, he followed the looters into the street, crowded with thedregs of the population mingled with a few Turkish soldiers who had notsucceeded in escaping, or had perhaps remained to increase their spoils.
Almost at once the cry of "Spy!" was raised. One of the soldiers--thesentry who had arrested Firouz Ali and his supposed apprentice--hadrecognised the barber. Resenting the reprimand he had suffered onaccount of the two men, he found himself in a position to wreakvengeance. His cry was sufficient, in their present temper, to bringup every soldier within hearing, and there were not a few among thecivilian rabble willing enough to spare a minute from looting to enjoythe sport of baiting and torturing a personal victim. Firouz Ali wasseized by the sentry, and dragged from the platform of his shop to theroad. A dozen swords and knives, straight and curved, of manydifferent patterns, were whipped out, and the old man, forced to hisknees, a silent dignified figure among that wild throng, awaited acruel fate.
THE BARBER IS MOBBED]
Suddenly there was an explosion close by, that flung innumerablefragments of masonry like falling leaves into the street, and made thevery earth tremble. The startled mob broke apart, the groupsurrounding the barber loosed their hold on him; the soldiers, who knewwhat the noise meant, gazed up into the sky. Then, with shouts andcurses, they rushed blindly this way and that, seeking doorways,alleys, dens where they could find shelter from the dreaded bombs.
Firouz All, left alone, got up slowly and went back into his dismantledshop.
Late that evening, after the entry of the British troops, and whenorder had been restored in the town, Roger Burnet came to the house.
"Peace be with you!" said the old man, greeting him warmly. "Surelythis is a day of deliverance, and a blessed answer to my prayers."
"You have been plundered, I see," said Burnet after returning hisgreeting. "I hoped you had escaped."
"Barely I escaped with my life. The sword was at my throat when a bombfell on that very arsenal which you and I noted when we walked the citytogether. The villains were afraid, and left me, or I should not bealive now to welcome the son of my benefactor and my friend."
Burnet felt a strange thrill.
"Those walks of ours, that plan I made over the map, were useful to usboth, my old friend," he said. "It was I who dropped the bomb on thatarsenal, which I saw a rabble of Kurds looting. I can never be toothankful that I was able to do a service unawares to one to whom I oweso much."
"Mashallah! Surely it was the hand of God. And I rejoice that I havelived to see the day for which I have yearned for many years, and toknow that the son of Burnet Aga has had a part in the triumph of thecause his father had at heart. And now let us sit down, even amongthese ruins, which are but a small price to pay for my soul'scontentment, and you shall tell me all that has happened since last Ibid you go in peace."
THE END