CHAPTER XIX

A TIGHT CORNER

Meanwhile, on the beach below, the work of disembarking men and guns and stores was proceeding steadily, still under fire, though not so concentrated and so deadly as it was before the first trenches were rushed. Engineers were already cutting paths upward through the scrub on which supplies were being hurried to the top. Ambulance men were carrying wounded on stretchers down the steep face of the cliff. The guns of the fleet were searching for the Turkish positions on the summit, and seaplanes were circling overhead to discover the positions of the batteries which were enfilading the ridges and the beach with shrapnel.

Now that the excitement of the first rush had subsided, Frank felt himself in a difficulty. He was fortuitously in command of nearly a half platoon of men: what was he to do with them? He knew nothing of his position relative to the rest of the force which had established itself on the hill. The din of rifle and machine-gun fire was increasing; it seemed clear that the Turks were rallying for a counter attack. Snipers' bullets incessantly whistled overhead. After a few minutes he felt sure that the head of the gully above was occupied by a strong force of the enemy, and he anxiously considered whether he ought to try to hold on, or to retire down the gully until he came in touch with some one from whom he could take orders. In the meantime he had instructed the men to charge their magazines, to keep their heads down, and to maintain a careful look-out. Never had he felt so glad of the long field-days he had spent as a sergeant in his school corps.

While he was still in doubt, a second lieutenant came up the gully. In the dirty, dishevelled, tattered figure he hardly recognised the Jack Tomlinson who had tried to pose him in Turkish.

"You headstrong jackass!" cried Tomlinson genially. "Do you know that you've got at least five hundred yards ahead of the rest? Looking for Turks not made to be loved, but to be bayoneted, I suppose."

"No cackle! What are we to do?"

"I came to withdraw you, and have had a narrow squeak half a dozen times on the way. The ground between you and our first line, where we've got two or three thousand men strung out anyhow, is frightfully exposed, and the Turks are in strength above. There are no end of snipers concealed in the scrub on each side, and the bottom of the gully is enfiladed; as I tell you, I had the narrowest squeak in getting here."

"We must hold on then?"

"Or risk being heavily cut up. I think we had better stay, though for the life of me I don't see how we can stick it if the Turks locate us. Anyway, I hope it won't be for long. The fellows have chucked away their packs, I see; that means no grub, and there's no water. I'm frightfully dry, but I don't care to take a pull at my water-bottle yet. Every drop may be needed by and by."

"Well, we couldn't have struck a better place for a stand. This gully's a better trench than we could have made in a hurry, bar sandbags. Our handful ought to be able to hold it against anything but artillery. And we can improve it: we'd better start at once before the Turks spot us: I believe they're in pretty strong force above there."

"Righto. Let's have a look round."

The sides of the gully were covered with bushes and small trees. Several of the men had retained their entrenching tools, and Frank set them to lop branches, and others to pull up shrubs by the roots, which the remainder began to weave into a sort of abattis extending across the gully. Before they had been engaged on the task more than a quarter of an hour, the whiz of bullets directly down the gully informed them that the Turks had discovered their position. One or two men were hit, and Frank told off a few to post themselves in the bushes and snipe in return. Their flanks were protected against an attack in force, on one side by a stretch of fairly open ground commanded from the position of the Australians below them, and on the other by the tangled vegetation through which to advance seemed impossible. It gave cover for innumerable snipers, it is true; but it served also as a screen to the occupants of the gully on a much lower level. As an additional defence against attack from up the gully Frank ordered some of the men to throw up a rampart behind the abattis, a task which the soft nature of the rock rendered comparatively easy.

But the traverse was only half finished when there came a warning shout from a man above--

"Here they come!"

Round a bend in the gully some distance higher up a compact mass of swarthy Turks surged down towards them. At a word from Frank the men dropped their tools and posted themselves behind the obstruction, taking all the cover its unfinished state afforded, each man looking steadily over his rifle sight.

"Wait for the word," said Frank at one end of the line.

The Turks rushed down impetuously, filling the whole width of the gully and several ranks deep. They did not fire, their intention evidently being to overwhelm the little party in one headlong rush. Frank waited tensely until the first rank was within about a hundred yards; then he called out:

"Now! Rapid!"

A withering volley flashed from the rifles. Then the men, each for himself, fired into the approaching mass as steadily as if practising at the butts. The first rank went down under the pitiless hail of lead, but the rush was scarcely checked. Carried on by their own impetus, the Turks ran, jumped, reeled down the hundred yards of rough slope that intervened between them and the abattis. They could not stop, even if they would, for the close ranks behind pressed relentlessly upon the foremost. Nor indeed did they show any disposition to shirk the issue. They were Turks, and therefore brave; they were many, and the defenders were few; and though the men at the head of the column fell in their tracks, or survived only to reel forward a few yards and then collapse, those behind sprang over the bodies of their fallen comrades, only to fall themselves a pace or two further on. Their places were taken in turn by others from the throng pressing behind, and the living stream dashed against the abattis like waves upon a breakwater. Shouting the name of Allah, some tried to wrench the branches apart, others dug their feet into the obstacle and began to clamber over. But their courage was of no avail. With a horde of the enemy within five or six feet of them the Australians continued to fire calmly, methodically, relentlessly, plying their bayonets upon those few who came within their reach.

In two or three minutes from the time when the torrent first broke upon the barrier the oncoming Turks had to meet a new and terrible obstacle in the piled bodies of their comrades. And when finally the survivors, stricken with sudden panic, broke and fled back up the gully, it needed all the authority of the two officers to prevent their men from bursting out and chasing the shattered mob. The Australian in action has only one glorious failing: like a thoroughbred courser, when his blood is up he is hard to hold.

Frank mopped his smoking brow. His hand was shaking. His rifle was hot.

"You three men," he said, indicating those nearest him, "get over and bring in the wounded. The rest keep an eye up the gully."

"I've got some iodine ampoules," said Tomlinson.

"Good! We must do what we can for the poor chaps. I'm glad it's over."

"Is it over? Look there."

At the further end of the gully the Turks had already begun to collect material for a breastwork similar to that against which they had just spent themselves. They kept out of sight, but masses of scrub and branches of trees could be seen falling into the gully from the sides.

"We must snipe them," said Tomlinson--"fire into the bushes."

"Better save our ammunition," suggested Frank. "We shall want it if they attack again, and we can't get any more. They've learnt a lesson, and will be warier now, and therefore more formidable. We've all our work cut out yet."

Thus at the one end the Turks went about their task unmolested, and at the other the Australians were allowed to carry the wounded behind their rampart without interference. Such of the men as had field dressings employed them ungrudgingly on their wounded prisoners. But hardly had the last man who could be moved been brought over when the Turks above commenced a steady fire from behind their barricade.

"Keep low, men," cried Frank. "Poke your rifles through the bushes near the bottom, and loose a shot every now and then."

It soon became clear that the sharpshooting from the barricade was intended to distract the Australians while an attempt was made to outflank them through the scrub on the banks of the gully. Though the Turks moved stealthily, and on the left bank had almost perfect cover, a sudden stirring of the bushes caught Tomlinson's eye, and he guessed what it meant. The party was all too small to meet an attack on three fronts; for presently figures were seen darting across the more open ground on the right in twos and threes, risking observation from the larger force of Australians that was entrenched farther down the hill. Fighting was general all over the position, and even if the plight of the small band in the gully had been known to their comrades below, there was little or no chance of their being reinforced. All that the young officers could do was to tell off as many of their men as could be spared from the barricade to line the banks of the gully, and do their best to daunt the enemy by the accuracy of their fire.

It was a position to test the nerve and resolution of a veteran, much more of soldiers making their first essay in warfare. Nothing in the experience of the Great War has been more remarkable than the extraordinary efficiency shown by the younger officers--men who a few months before were boys at school, with no more expectation of serving their country in arms than of undertaking any other unimagined form of activity. They have shown quickness of perception, promptness in decision, the courage and tenacity which every Briton glories in as his birthright, and a cheerfulness in the most adverse and depressing circumstances, which is not improvised, but grows out of health and disciplined freedom. When the full story of this world-struggle comes to be written, it will be found that a large proportion of the honours which history will award will fall to the boys.

Through the heat of the day, and on till the evening mist crept across the hills, Frank and his Australian comrades maintained the unequal fight. In the struggle at the barricade they had received only a few slight wounds; but as the day wore on the effective strength of the little band ebbed away. Parched with thirst, ruefully regretful of the emergency rations in the packs so lightly discarded on the beach below, they had more than the persistent sniping of the enemy to contend with. They rarely caught sight of the Turks, but every now and then one would fall to a bullet from some unseen rifle in the scrub. Exasperated by this furtive mode of attack, the men asked to be allowed to charge the enemy, and growled in the free-spoken manner of Australians when their entreaty was refused. At one time Tomlinson suggested that they should make an attempt to fall back upon the larger forces below, in spite of its risks: but Frank replied quietly:

"We don't know how important every yard may prove to be. I think we had better hold on, Tommy. Perhaps the fellows below will make another rush upward by and by."

But darkness fell: the din of fighting had not diminished; but none had come to their relief. Tomlinson renewed his proposal; but to the other dangers would be added the risk of losing their way in this unknown wilderness, and he agreed ultimately with Frank that they had better hold their ground.

The men tried to relieve their thirst by sucking the dew from their coats and shirts. The day had been a long torture, but all confessed that the night hours were worse. In the daylight they could see their enemy if they threatened an attack; in the darkness they had to trust to their ears alone. The Turks, knowing how small their numbers were, would probably be tempted to rush them, and the strain of guarding against surprise told very heavily upon their nerves.

About four hours after dark, Frank's suspicion that some such move was intended was aroused, first by the slackening of the sniping fire, then by sounds of movement on all sides. Frank had posted himself at the upper end of his little force, by the barricade: Tomlinson at the lower. From this end Frank suddenly heard murmurs of conversation, in tones which, though low, had a note of excitement. In a few moments a man came to him up the gully.

"I'm Sergeant Jukes, sir," he said--"crept up the gully from below. Some one told the major about you up here, and he sent me to say, hold on as long as you can. They're getting ready to advance down there."

"That's good news! Tell the major we'll stick it to the last."

"I'm to stay with you, sir."

"Good! The major doesn't know who we are, of course."

"No, sir. We heard firing, and he thought perhaps some of our chaps had been cut off and hadn't got an officer with them, so he sent me to take charge in that case, but to stay anyhow."

"We're glad of your help--only wish there were forty of you. Just go down a few paces and keep your ears open. I'm pretty sure the Turks are going to try a rush."

The minutes passed very slowly. It was clear that the enemy, leaving nothing to chance, were making their dispositions with deliberate thoroughness. Officers and men waited in a tenseness that was painful. Would the blow from above fall before the promised movement from below? Frank dared not diminish his force by sending out a listening patrol. He would need every man if the attack came, and it would be so easy to lose one's way in the scrub. But in the darkness every man's hearing seemed preternaturally sharpened, and they fingered their rifles restlessly as they heard more and more sounds of the forces gathering about them.

Suddenly there was a whistle on the right, followed by an answering whistle on the left. Guided by the sounds the defenders opened fire. There was no reply. The enemy were no doubt feeling their way forward, in the hope of getting near enough to sweep the position in one overwhelming rush. From the directions in which the whistles had come, Frank guessed that an attack was to be made simultaneously on two sides. There was another whistle, nearer at hand and unmistakably at the side; the answer came from below. An idea flashed into his mind which he instantly put into execution.

When, a few moments later, the Turks swarmed down both sides of the gully some distance below the barricade, they intended to force the defenders back upon that useless defence, expecting to have them then at their mercy. But when they met, in the darkness and confusion some of them threw themselves upon their own friends before they discovered that the men they had come to attack had disappeared. In that brief interval before the rush, Frank, divining their purpose, had swiftly withdrawn all his men to the barricade, and at the moment when the Turks poured down the sides of the gully, the defenders were all posted above the barricade, facing towards them. As the Turks, yelling and cursing, surged upwards they were met by a withering fire, which swept down the gully into their confused and closely packed ranks. Trapped, bewildered, they hesitated; then they in turn opened fire.

But at this moment there was a ringing cheer from below, repeated in ever-increasing volume as a full company of Australians charged up the gully. They could not be seen; not a rifle flash revealed their position; they meant to do their work with the cold steel. The Turks, swept by the hail of lead from above, ignorant of the number of the enemy pouring upon their rear, began in terror to scramble up the sides of the gully, and broke away into the scrub on either side.

A hoarse shout rose from the parched throats of the men above the barricade. It warned their comrades of their position. And now came the moment that rewarded the little band for all the stress and labour of the day. Exhausted though they were, they sprang up the banks of the gully, and side by side with the new arrivals, deaf to the commands of Frank and Tomlinson, they plunged into the scrub after the fleeing Turks. A series of peremptory blasts from a whistle brought this impetuous movement to a stop. The men returned, disappointed but happy, to the gully, and the newcomers were ordered to line the banks with a protective parapet.

Then an electric torch was seen moving among the men, and a clear authoritative voice was heard.

"Where is the officer who organized this position?"

Thoroughly worn out, Frank was sitting at the foot of the bank, holding his head in his hands, hardly conscious of what was passing around him. He looked up as the light flashed upon him.

"This is he, eh?" a voice said. "Your name, sir."

He saw two keen eyes fixed upon him, and stood up, mechanically saluting.

"My name?" He appeared to consider for a moment. "Yes, I know: Frank Forester."

"Regiment?"

"I don't know; I don't believe I have one. No, sir, of course; I'm attached as interpreter."

"Indeed! You've a queer way of interpreting your duties. How long have you held this gully?"

"Since early morning, sir."

"With what force?"

"We had something over twenty to start with: there aren't so many now."

"Less than a platoon! By George, Mr. Forester, it's an uncommonly fine performance: are you aware of that? I'll send your name up to the General."

"There's Tomlinson, sir."

"I'll look after Tomlinson."

"The men were splendid."

"I haven't a doubt of it.... Why, bless my soul! water there, some one."

Frank had collapsed in his arms.