Read On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris Page 13


  CHAPTER XIII

  An Amphibious Expedition

  "Garden of Eden, indeed!" growled Philip, some few weeks after that finecombat in which the Indian Expeditionary Force had proved so successful,and had cleared the road to Kurnah. "Where's the garden?"

  The disdainful Mahratta subaltern looked round him from the doorstep ofthe house in which he and a few of his brother officers had taken uptheir quarters, and to which at that moment his chum Geoff had paid avisit. And well might the youthful and disgusted Phil have turned up hisnose, have scoffed, and have shown the most infinite displeasure, forrains had set in since the occupation of Kurnah, and the wholecountry-side was soaked. That smooth, sandy, and gravelly desert wascovered a foot deep in sticky, sandy mud, different from any mudencountered elsewhere; mud which clung to the boots, which piled up onthe feet of those who trudged about the camp, and who must needstherefore carry about with them so much extra weight.

  A hot, stifling mist hung over the country and blotted out the RiverTigris. For, bear in mind, the Expedition had now advanced beyond thejunction of the Euphrates and the Tigris Rivers, and had camped on thebanks of the latter. Time was, centuries before, when these twohistoric rivers had come together in the neighbourhood of Kurnah--thelittle town now captured--where the country-side was drained, andfertile, and productive, and where, no doubt, date-palms had offeredgrateful shade, and patches of green had relieved the dull, dirty yellowof the desert. But that was in days gone by. Now, a change in the courseof the River Euphrates--a river which, like many a one in China, changesits course in the most fickle and unforeseen manner--had cut a channelfor itself farther to the south, where it now met the Tigris. "Gardenindeed!" The place was a muddy swamp, set amidst the most depressingsurroundings.

  "Not so very cheerful," Geoff had to agree, as he puffed at a cigaretteand smiled at the indignant Philip; "but then we're campaigning, my dearfellow, and soldiers should take things as they come, and not grouse andgrumble."

  "Shut up!" Philip told him. "None of your Head-quarters airs for me!What's doing?"

  It was always the way with Philip to demand of his chum what movementsmight be expected, as if indeed, though attached to the Head-quarters,Geoff was likely to be in the confidence of his seniors. Yet he knewsomething of their intentions at times, and knew well enough thatfurther movement was anticipated.

  "You see, it's like this," he told Philip, there being no one elseabout. "The party we sent off along the Karun River and the pipe-lineinto Persia have seized Ahwaz, and have secured the oil-supply for ourbattleships. Just look at this map I am making in the mud! Rather a goodplace for drawing one, ain't it? Now, here's the Tigris and Kurnah, andthere are the swamps that we went into with Commander Houston. By theway, glad to hear that he's doing well. He's on his way to India now,and good reports have been received about him. Well, there are themarshes."

  "Where our good friend the Turk did us the honour of joining us, eh!"grinned Philip. "What an adventure that was, Geoff! Wish we could havemore of 'em!"

  It was Geoff's turn to tell his friend to "Shut up!"

  "Don't interrupt!" he said irritably, thrusting the point of his stickdeep into the mud, and pointing impatiently to the map which he had beenoutlining. "Let a fellow get on with his description. There's theTigris."

  "You've said that already," grumbled Philip.

  "Well, I say it again! There it is!"

  "Yes, the Tigris, we all know that! Put a T against it!"

  That made Geoff laugh, and obediently he sketched a huge T in the sandand mud before him.

  "Right oh!" he said. "Tigris."

  "Get on," growled Philip. "Here are the marshes," and bending swiftly hescraped a row of lines in the mud. "Marshes--M--there we are, and justabout here, I suppose, will be the spot where our dear friend the Turkjoined us."

  He dug a finger deep into the mud in the midst of the patch which he haddesignated "marshes", and then, standing up, grinned irritatingly atGeoff.

  "We know all about that," he went on. "T for Tigris, M for marshes!What next? K for Kurnah, I suppose."

  "It's there--K!" said Geoff, laughing, for who could allow himself to beirritated with Philip? "K for Kurnah, and B for Basra. There's the headof the Persian Gulf, and there's Ahwaz. Now let's move up this line wecall the Tigris. Perhaps a hundred miles up there is a place calledAmara, from which the enemy can easily reinforce the troops they have infront of Ahwaz; there's nothing to prevent them but marshes and desert,and seeing that they've lived all their lives in such surroundings theyknow all about them. So the next move is there, to seize Amara, and makedoubly secure that our pipe-line cannot be cut or damaged."

  As a matter of fact, the sketch-map which Geoff had drawn in the mud forthe edification of his chum, was not entirely complete or informative,and we hasten at this point to supplement the information he had given.Had he prolonged the line which represented the Tigris River farther tothe north and west, as it bent in that direction, he would, when he hadcovered sufficient space to indicate perhaps another hundred miles ofdesert country, have come to a place called Kut-el-Amara, where at thatvery moment Turks were in force; and, arrived at Kut, he would no doubthave carried on the line, making it twirl and twist in manydirections--for above Kut-el-Amara the Tigris winds considerably and ismost difficult of navigation--to Bagdad, that city where Major JosephDouglas had taken up his quarters, and where the onset of this hugeworld war had found him an alien in a nest of enemies.

  Going farther, Geoff's stick would have scratched the line in an almostdue southerly direction till it struck that broad patch which Philip hadcontemptuously designated marshes. Unknown then to the leaders of theIndian Expeditionary Force, a channel runs from Kut-el-Amara down to thehead of those marshes into the midst of which Geoff and his chum had sorecently ventured, and ends at a spot on the River Euphrates where thatbroad, sluggish, and ever-changing stream plunges into the mass of sandyand reed-covered islets which form the marshes at Nasiriyeh, where atthat very moment Turks were collecting. Not, let us add, that the IndianExpeditionary Force was entirely ignorant of their situation, for,indeed, the Intelligence Branch, thanks to the capture of that fatTurkish officer, had considerable news of a force of Turks collecting atNasiriyeh. Yet they did not know of the Kut-el-Hai, connecting Nasiriyehand Kut-el-Amara, and therefore were not aware that the Turks couldreinforce the garrison already collected at the head of the marshes, andwere at that moment hastily doing so. This force, joined by numbers ofArabs and tribesmen, was even then moving down beside the marshes,following their edge, and taking advantage of the drier parts where thedesert was not submerged, their objective being Shaiba, hardly ten milesto the south-west of Basra.

  Information of their coming reached the Head-quarters of the divisionwithin a few hours, in fact, at the moment when Geoff and Philip were soeagerly discussing the situation, and the blare of bugles, and the stirin the camp, immediately gave occasion to Philip to demand once more ofhis friend: "What's up?"

  "Remember that old Turk?" asked Geoff.

  "Not 'arf!" grinned Philip.

  "And the tale he gave us of the Turks at the head of the marshes?"

  "Get along with it!" Philip told him.

  "Well, the enemy are said to be now at Shaiba, within striking distanceof Basra, and we are sending back to reinforce our troops there."

  "Mahrattas?" asked Philip eagerly.

  "Can't say," came the short answer. "You'll know precious soon. So long,Philip! I'm busy."

  Geoff was, as a matter of fact, frantically busy; so busy, and soengaged in carrying messages, that he might, had he been inclined toarrogance, have suddenly formed the idea that he was the most importantindividual with the division. Dashing backwards and forwards on Sultan'sback, he had hardly time to think of the Mahrattas, of Philip, or ofanything else but his present duties; and it was not until some dayslater that the two met in the neighbourhood of Shaiba.

  "Somewhere about twenty thousand Turks opposite us," Geoff was able totell
his friend, "and plenty of guns. We're moving out to attack them.The beggars are entrenched at the foot of a slope along a line about twomiles in length, and their supports occupy the high ground behind them.Of course there are German officers with them."

  That early morning, was repeated in the neighbourhood of Shaiba theaction which the Indian Expeditionary Force had fought on its way toKurnah; for the troops advanced over the open, there being not a vestigeof cover, while the cavalry manoeuvred towards the flank of theenemy; a guard of Arab horsemen, and amongst them the chief whoseacquaintance we have already made, supporting the regular cavalry andmaking ready for a dash upon the enemy.

  To hardened campaigners, as Geoff and Philip had now become, the roar ofguns, the splash of shells, and the detonations about them made hardlyany difference; they were as cool as cucumbers, and went on with theirwork as though nothing were happening. And gradually, as the hours flewon, Indian and British--those gallant troops who had invadedMesopotamia--advanced upon the Turks by little rushes, advanced, andthen lay down, throwing up a parapet of sand in front of them to givethem some protection, while British guns thundered in the rear andplumped shells into the Turkish trenches. And then that long blast wasrepeated, that shout down the line of attacking troops, the shrillshriek of officers' whistles, and the charge which was to carry our meninto the enemy's position had begun. With those shouts there mingled theshrieks of hundreds of Arab horsemen--those excited individualsmanoeuvring at that moment towards the flank of the Turkish trenches.Their shrill cries could be heard right across the field of battle,while their robed figures, their waving arms, and their gesticulationscould be observed from the far distance. Waiting till the British troopshad plunged into the Turkish trenches, and until the enemy were brokenand were fleeing, the Arabs burst like a bolt towards the open, and,swinging in behind those trenches, went charging amongst the enemy,cutting them down, shouting as they rode, riding over the unfortunatesubjects of the Sultan and those scheming German officers who had cometo train the enemy. One moment there was Bedlam--shouts and shrieks, therattle of rifles, the sharp splutter of machine-guns and the deeper roarof cannon--and the next there was almost complete silence, save for thedistant calls of those fierce Arab horsemen wreaking vengeance upon theTurks.

  "And now commences the march on Amara," Geoff was able to tell hisfriend a few days later. "We've got the Turks running, and I expect theG.O.C. will make the most of it. A sharp and rapid advance might allowus to capture Amara with little opposition, and then we should be firmlyposted on the river and able to take up a defensive position."

  As a matter of fact, the capture of Amara was, in its way, a startlingand most dramatic affair, and proved, if proof were necessary, that thenerves of the Turks had been considerably shaken. For though theadvance-guard of the Expeditionary Force advancing towards Amara was ofbut slender proportions, it met detachments of Turkish troops comingtowards it, troops anxious to surrender, so that the town of Amara wasseized without so much as a shot being fired, and was promptly occupiedby the British.

  But the task of the Expeditionary Force to Mesopotamia was not yetcompleted, not by a great deal, for now there came news of that channel,the Kut-el-Hai, leading from Kut-el-Amara to Nasiriyeh, and it becamenecessary to seize both points before our troops could have anysecurity. Preparations were therefore made to attack both places, and,to the delight of Geoff and Philip, they were both detailed to accompanyan expedition, designed to strike at Nasiriyeh, through those marsheswhich they had already penetrated.

  Meanwhile, to bring our tale up to date, one needs to mention that, asthe months had gone by, as that trench line had been dug firmly acrossBelgium and France, and had held up the advance of the Germans on Calaisand Paris, the Russian line too had checked the enemy, had advancedacross Poland and into Galicia, and was within an ace of invadingAustria-Hungary. In the Caucasus, a Turkish army corps had been severelydealt with by the Tsar's forces called to that inhospitable region;while an ambitious if reckless attempt on the Suez Canal, on the part ofTurkey, had met with dismal failure.

  The taking of Amara, in fact, coincides with the period when Britain hadrecovered from the first shock of this sudden and unexpected conflict,when she was training those hundreds of thousands of volunteers who hadanswered the call of their country, and when, while fighting beside theFrench in France, she still had troops sufficient to attack the enemyelsewhere. Even as those gallant Indian and British troops with theMesopotamia Force charged down upon the trenches at Shaiba, otherBritish troops--men from England, from Australia, and New Zealand--weregathering in the neighbourhood of Egypt. Indeed, within a few days thereoccurred a landing on the Peninsula of Gallipoli, a most desperate andgallant undertaking, which launched Great Britain and France into aconflict the difficulty of which was stupendous, and the result of whichcannot be said to have been altogether a failure, though it failed togain for us the capture of those forts which line the approach toConstantinople. A conflict, in fact, abortive, as it proved, yet onewhich struck the Turks an exceedingly heavy blow, and set up a record ofbravery and determination on the part of British and French which willnever be exceeded.

  Was there ever such an expedition as that which set out for Nasiriyeh?

  "Queer, ain't it?" remarked Philip, on the point of embarking with hischum Geoff on board the steam-launch which they had captured from theenemy in the midst of the same marshes whither they were now bound. "Didyou ever see such a collection of boats and fellows? and the navy lookas though they meant to make a race of the business."

  There was a string of bellums--the shallow light craft common to thatpart of Mesopotamia, and used by the natives for progress through themarshes--towing at the tail end of the steam-launch--bellums crammedwith British soldiers and with Indians. There were motor-boats near athand, pushing their busy way across the Shatt-el-Arab; there wereshallow-draft steamers brought from India, cranky, dilapidated, rustyvessels, which looked as though they had done long service, and hadarrived at a time when they were fit for the scrap-heap only, or to berelegated to long and continuous rest. As a matter of fact, many ofthese curious craft--long since abandoned as useless by theirowners--had been brought across from India, surviving in a mostextraordinary manner a voyage which might have been expected to smashthem to pieces, and to shake their already quivering sides so severelythat if they had been swamped, if the ocean had poured through many acrevice, it would have been a wonder to no one. And there they were, atanchor in the river, their decks packed with men of the navy--men induck white or in khaki, grinning fellows, who shouted to their comradesof the army.

  "Cheer oh, navy'll be in first!" they bellowed. "We're in for theTurkish stakes, and back ourselves to beat the army."

  What a scene it was when the expedition set off at length! The lightercraft finding their way through the marshes, and steering an irregularcourse amongst the muddy islets, whilst the vessels drawing deeper waterploughed their way along the uncertain course of the Euphrates, andstemmed the gentle flood down which Phil and Geoff had steamed withtheir Turkish prisoner. Little tails of open boats trailed at the sternof every steamer, while not a few, manned by natives, with soldiersaboard them, were paddled into the marshes farther afield on theoutskirts of this huge inundation. There were other troops wadingknee-deep, all with the one objective--Nasiriyeh and the Turkish camp.Perhaps never before had such an amazingly curious, amphibiousexpedition been undertaken, and it is quite certain that never beforehad British and Indian sailors and soldiers enjoyed a thing more hugely.

  "A regular sort of mud lark," Phil called out as the launch ran on asubmerged bank of mud, and came to an abrupt halt, causing the bellumtowing nearest to her to collide violently with her stern and capsizepromptly. There were roars of laughter as the men fell into the waterand got to their feet again, dripping, and standing there with the waterhardly higher than their knees, grimacing and shaking themselves likedogs.

  "All overboard!" cried Geoff, who was in command of the launch. "There'sno u
se in trying to pole her off, for she's hard and fast. Overboardwith you!"

  Pulling his long boots off and his breeches higher up his legs, he wasover the side in a twinkling, while the crew, enjoying the experienceamazingly, followed him, Phil helping to set an example.

  "Now, all together, boys!" shouted Geoff. "Pull her off! Pull her back!That's done it; she's moving!"

  Not once, but half a dozen times, in the next two or three days, werethey forced to extricate themselves from a similar sort of situation bysimilar methods. For, let us explain, there was no opportunity to takecareful account of the obstacles before them, to steer a slow andcautious course, and to make a complete reconnaissance of the route theywere to follow. Under ordinary conditions, with time at their disposal,Geoff would have steered his launch at a placid pace, and would haveavoided enclosed waters where islands of mud abounded; but now, withthis expedition, it was a case of each man for himself, of push aheadall the time. It was a race, in fact, a friendly race, between the armyand the navy, each service vying with the other in its efforts to pushonward, and each secretly determined to get to the goal before theother.

  "If we don't look out we shall be running our heads into a hornets'nest," Geoff cried irritably, when, for the fifth time at least, he andhis crew had had to leap into the shallow water and pull their vesselfree of a mud-bank. "This sort of headlong course will not help us tobeat the enemy, but will give them an enormous opportunity."

  Whereat Phil grinned. He was one of those incautious, careless,happy-go-lucky sort of subalterns who never think of consequences, andwho, perhaps for that very reason, so seldom come to grief. Perhaps itwas a lucky star which always watched over Phil's progress, for, in anycase, happy-go-lucky though he was, careless to an irritating degree, heyet had so far come through many a little adventure unscathed.

  "Tremendous opportunity--yes!" he told Geoff. "But--but will they takeit? Bet you they're already thinking of bolting; for don't forget, myboy, we've given them a pretty hard hammering. Besides, an expeditionsuch as this is, spread out through the marshes, ain't so jolly easy totackle. You could stop a portion, perhaps--say one flank, or the portionin the centre of the ground, or rather the water. What do youHead-quarters chaps call it? It would be called terrain if it was aquestion of land operations, and I don't happen to know the term underthese conditions. But that's what might happen; one portion of ourspread-out front might get stopped, but the others would push on likeblazes! Cheer up, Geoff! It'll all come right, and you'll earn promotionyet."

  It always ended like that with such a fellow as Phil, and Geoff,cautious and earnest young officer though he was, was forced to laughuproariously, and join in Phil's merriment. And, after all, if cautionhad been thrown to the winds by all of them--which was far from beingthe case--caution on his part would hardly remedy the situation. Pushingon, therefore, and taking the most out of his steam-launch, thrashingher across every open strip of water till her bow waves washed almostaboard, and until the rope to which the bellums were attached was drawnlike a bow-string, and the unfortunate individuals aboard those craftdrenched with spray, he wriggled his way forward with other boats of theexpedition, determined to be well in the van at the coming conflict.Then, as the dusk fell, and the boats tied up or anchored for the night,he selected a likely spot towards the edge of the marshes, and droppedanchor. Entering a bellum, he went off towards one of the bigger craft,aboard which the Staff conducting this extraordinary expedition werequartered.

  "What's up?" asked Philip on his return, the inevitable question thatyoung officer fired at his comrade. "Of course, everyone knows thatwe're jolly near this Nasiriyeh, so to-morrow there'll be somethingdoing, eh?"

  "Come over here," Geoff said, nodding towards the stern of the vessel.

  "Secrets, eh?" grinned Philip, yet wonderfully eager to hear what Geoffhad to say. "Now then, what's the business?"

  "A forward move to-morrow, as you might expect, but before that areconnaissance."

  "A re--con--nais--sance! Jingo! Ain't that a mouthful? Put in simplerlanguage, a sort of scouting expedition," smiled Philip, suckingfuriously at a cigarette.

  "Just that; an expedition by a small party to discover the actual siteof the Turkish camp and to hear what they are saying."

  "Oh! And--but you don't mean----George! That would be ripping!"

  Geoff cooled his ardour most brutally. "What would be?" he asked curtlyenough--coldly, in fact, knowing full well what would be the result ofsuch action.

  And, indeed, in a moment the hitherto eager and impulsive Phil wasreduced to a condition almost of despair, was grumbling, was far lesselated; and then, in the dim light which still existed, he caught just aglimpse of Geoff's bantering smile, and gripped him by the shoulder.

  "So you're pulling my leg, eh? It--it----There's a job for us to do?Something special?"

  "There is for me. I have orders to make my way forward as quickly aspossible, and learn all that I can of the enemy. Of course, if youcared----"

  "Cared!" Phil almost shouted, though Geoff warned him instantly tosubdue his tone. For let us explain that if, during the first stage ofthis expedition, the rush and hurry and scurry of the navy and army hadbeen accompanied by cheery calls, by shouts and laughter, by whistlingand singing for some hours, now, at least, silence had been enjoinedupon every man in the marshes. Orders were given by signs, men whisperedto one another, while not an unnecessary shout came from the vessels ofthe expedition.

  "You'll call the enemy down on us," said Geoff severely. "Of courseyou'll come. Everyone knows that, I more than anyone. We'll take Esbulwith us to paddle the bellum, and with a little luck and a little care Ithink we shall be able to discover something. You see, Phil, we have, asit were, a better chance than the other fellows, for we've been in thesemarshes before, and know quite a heap about them."

  Standing aboard the steam-launch, now that darkness had settled downover the River Euphrates and the stagnant marshes stretched out to thesouth of it, one would have found it difficult indeed, on thisparticular night, to imagine that there were other inhabitants of thisinundated area. Broken up as the surface of the water was, byinnumerable muddy islands, by heaped-up patches of sand, and by banks ofreeds, it was difficult enough even in the daytime to catch a full viewof any other vessel, and now that the night had fallen and hidden theships entirely not one was to be seen, though here and there, in fiftyodd places, perhaps, the ruddy glow of pipes could be seen as the mensmoked tranquilly. A gentle hum rose, too, above the water and theislets--the hum of voices of men of the expedition, men who talked inundertones, who giggled and laughed and joked only just above a whisper,and who, eager for the success of the morrow and for the defeat of theenemy, implicitly obeyed the orders which had been issued.

  Geoff stripped off his service-coat and put his belt round his shoulder,thus raising his revolver well above the water. Pulling off his longboots, he donned a pair of tennis shoes--the only change he had from theheavy pair he wore during the daytime--then, followed by Phil, hestepped into a bellum, which had been drawn alongside the steam-launch,and, pushing away from her, at once felt the thrust of Esbul's paddle.

  "Directly ahead!" he told the Armenian; "and don't stop unless we arebrought up by a mud-bank, or unless I snap my fingers."

  It was uncannily still all round them, once they had got some twohundred yards from the somewhat irregular position taken up by theexpeditionary vessels, and banks of reeds and columns of mist seemed tospring up out of the darkness at them, to hover round them, and tosettle right over them in the most ghostly and inexplicable manner. OnceGeoff snapped his fingers with unexpected suddenness, and gripped Philby the wrist to enjoin silence upon him.

  "Eh?" asked that young officer rather breathlessly a few moments later.

  "Thought I saw something," said Geoff.

  "So did I. I thought I saw somebody or something half an hour ago. I'vethought it every moment since we left the steam-launch. Bogies, Geoff?"

  "Not nerves, I hope!" came
the cheerful answer. "But it's rather uncannywork, ain't it? I could have sworn just now that a fellow stood on theedge of an island into which we were running, and I snapped my fingers;but the way of the boat carried us right on to the very point where hewas standing, and right over it. He had gone though."

  "Like a nasty nightmare!" said Phil. "Let's go ahead; it's cold andchilly here, and takes the courage out of a fellow."

  It was perhaps an hour later, when they had slowly crept forward towardsthe Turkish position, and when they had caught sight of a glow in thedistance--the glow of camp-fires--over the position occupied by theenemy, that the bellum suddenly came to an abrupt halt, grinding noisilyupon the edge of the desert.

  "Hard ground," said Geoff. "Looks as though we'd come to the edge of themarsh land, and--and--I've thought it for some while, the sky over thereshows the reflection from camp-fires. We're near them, Phil."

  "Then let's get nearer. But how are we to find this bellum again,supposing we leave it?"

  That set them cogitating for a few moments while they stepped ashore,followed by Esbul, and, lifting the bellum clear of the water, carriedher into a bank of reeds which could be heard rustling beside them.

  "How to find her, that's it!" said Geoff, while the respectful Esbullistened.

  "My master," he said of a sudden, for thanks to Major Douglas's tuitionthe man could speak English tolerably well. "My master, perhaps were weto return from the Turkish camp before the dawn breaks these reeds wouldaid us. There may be other banks; but, on the other hand, there may beno more, and thus we should be aided."

  "In any case we've got to chance it," said Geoff lightly. "Now, comealong, and let's make direct for the glow of those camp-fires."

  Stealing away from the place where they had hidden their boat, the threecrept cautiously but swiftly towards the enemy's position, and,ascending slowly as they went, soon gained a ridge, from which they wereable to look right down into the camp where the Turkish soldiers wereconcentrated. Lying flat on their faces, they were busily engaged intaking full stock of what they saw, when a sudden exclamation came fromEsbul.

  "Excellency, something behind us!" he whispered.

  "Stop! There's someone coming up from the Turkish camp," mutteredPhilip, making a dive for his revolver.

  Glancing swiftly in both directions, Geoff was on the point of leadinghis comrades to one side, so as to escape the danger of discovery whichseemed to threaten them, when shouts resounded all about them, and in atrice figures dashed up from every direction, surrounding the three, andthrowing themselves upon Geoff and his friends with a swiftness that wasdramatic.