Part 13

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.

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_Diary._ _Monday, February 28, 1916._ _S.S. “Mooltan.”_ _Off Marseilles._ The Germans are by way of not torpedoing our boats until Wednesday, but to-day is St. Leander’s Day, not a good day, on the sea, at this time of year. They have torpedoed four boats these last days near Marseilles. We are off the coast of Corsica, dull and unattractive.... John Baird is here....

_Wednesday, March 1, 1916._ _SS. “Mooltan.”_ Yesterday J. B., Captain Cummings and I went ashore at Malta. We heard of the torpedoing of the _Maloja_ off Dover. I saw Admiral Limpus, an old friend; then dined with Admiral de Robeck. I saw R. K. He still wants to go up the Dardanelles. 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.... Left J. B. and Jack Marriott.

_Monday, March 6, 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. He has been eighteen years in Central Africa. To-night I went to the Club and found Kettle, alive, whom I thought dead--very glad to find it wasn’t true--and lots 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. All the men from Anzac talk of it with something like reverence. I dined with General Godley. 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 10, 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 C. 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: (1) 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 8, 1916._ _Cairo._ I arranged for Storrs 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 had accepted the Throne when it had been offered 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. General Maxwell, he said, understood the Moslems. Even the Duke of Connaught could hardly have done better in Egypt. 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.

_Thursday, March 9, 1916._ _Cairo._ Saw Jaafar Pasha, 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 10, 1916._ _Cairo._ The Admiral came up on Thursday night. I lunched with General Maxwell. Bron 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 11, 1916._ _Ismailia._ The Australians have been having high old times in Cairo. 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. We owed a lot to their initiative at Anzac, when all their officers were killed. Salutes, after all, matter less than fighting. 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. Charlie Bentinck came down with us, going home; I hope he gets there all right.

_Tuesday, March 14, 1916._ _Ismailia._ Maxwell is now definitely recalled.... It’s a pity to take away the man whose name is everything in Egypt. On Saturday I dined with the Admiral and Potts of the Khedive’s yacht. Like Jimmy Watson, he was very fond of his ex-Chief. Sunday I lunched with the Admiral and General Murray, and saw my old friend Tyrrell. Yesterday the Admiral left with Philip Neville for Solloum. I should have liked to have been in that show.

Here are criticisms and indescretions, which are better left lying at the bottom of a drawer....

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All are very sad about Desmond Fitzgerald’s death. There was no one quite like him. He would have played a great part. He was extraordinarily fine, too fine to be a type, though he was a type, but not of these times. I shall never forget him during the Retreat, always calm and always cheerful. Bron came, and we had a long talk.

_Wednesday, March 15, 1916._ _Cairo._ This morning I saw 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 M. that the war ought to prevent one’s pulses ever fluttering again. M. said to me: “Yes, unless it makes them flutter for ever.”

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Here there followed naval, strategical, political and commercial considerations which are irrelevant to this published diary.

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_Diary._ _March 15, 1916._ Went to the citadel to see the old Sheikh. It was a lovely day of heat, fresh winds, clear air and flowers everywhere.

_Wednesday, March 22, 1916._ _Ismailia._ I have neglected my diary. Yesterday I went and said good-bye to General Birdwood. 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. We were all downhearted at his going.

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 Russell.... I dined with General Godley. All the talk was of Mesopotamia. Some one said at dinner that no securely beleaguered force had ever cut its way out. I could only think of Xenophon, who, General Gwynne said, quite truly, was not beleaguered, and also of Plevna, that didn’t get out.

_Sunday, March 26, 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 Basrah. 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 Basrah 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 Basrah, but we made him a prisoner and sent him to India, I believe.

_Monday, March 27, 1916._ _H.M.S. “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.

_Tuesday, March 28, 1916._ _H.M.S._ “_Euryalus.”_ I wonder what situation we shall find in Mesopotamia. Willcocks 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.” That was how he explained that miracle.

It’s getting very hot. I am working at Hindustani. The Staff here are all first class. It’s luck to find Colonel de Sausmarez, who was on the _Bacchante_, now promoted.

_Thursday, March 30, 1916._ _H.M.S. “Euryalus.”_ Took a bad fall down the ladder. 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 31, 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 seaplanes off. 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 Pelly said that the Turks were like the Thirty-nine Articles; every one 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. In the evening I went with the Brigadier to the Turkish prisoners. 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. Then they had been put on a ship to go back to their families, then taken off again and sent to fight us. Human nature could not stand it, they said. They liked their Commander, Said Pasha, who was good to the soldiers, but they complained of their non-commissioned officers....

We seem to be perpetually changing our officers here. This C.O. is the fifth in a short time. Jacob is the only man who talks Arabic, and there is not a soul who talks Turkish. Wrote to Egypt to get an interpreter.

_Sunday, April 2, 1916._ _H.M.S. “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. Talked about Arabia yesterday with the Admiral.

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-wei 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 3, 1916._ _H.M.S. “Euryalus.”_ Last night I had a long and rather acrimonious argument with ---- and ---- 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.”

There is news of a Zeppelin raid on London. Everybody is anxious.

_Tuesday, April 4, 1916._ _H.M.S. “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 with the Admiral and Captain 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 Bahrein after we were wrecked in the _Africa_.

Wireless came into Basrah to say the spring offensive was beginning. We put into Muskat. I found that the Resident, Colonel Ducat, was a neighbour. 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 Buxton. I was very sick, carrying a huge bag of Maria Teresa dollars. 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 5, 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 thirty followers. We drank sherbet like scented lip-salve, and the sailors didn’t like it. The Admiral and the Sultan talked. Later the Sultan came here with seven A.D.C.’s 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. The people here are Bunyas, who cheat the Sultan, slim aristocratic Arabs, and gorilla-like negroes. They are mostly armed to the teeth. Sheets of rain fell this afternoon.

_Thursday, April 6, 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’s 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 7, 1916._ _Persian Gulf._... 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.

_Friday, April 8, 1916._ _H.M.S. “Euryalus.”_ _Bushire._ A very cold morning with a clear sky. It’s a nuisance having lost all my coats. Here I leave Edward. 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 9, 1916._ _H.M.S. “Imogene.”_ _Shat-el-Arab._ Yesterday Commodore Wake came aboard.... 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 to 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 reminded me of the Dardanelles, but there it was much better, for there the sea and sky were beautiful and the climate, by comparison, excellent.

Ages ago, in Egypt, Machel used to talk of ghosts. This ship conjures them up all right--trips with Sir Nicholas and the children to the island and many other people, some of them still in Constantinople. Sir Nicholas would have been surprised if he could have seen the name of his yacht written on the rocks at Muskat, and, as the Admiral said, he would not have liked any one else in command of his yacht, here or in any other waters. Townshend has telegraphed some time ago to say he could only hold out until April 1st. Here we are at the 9th.