On the whole fairly sensible, I think, & shows more comprehension of the Arab point of view than any of the other Syrian officers. Captain MacIndoe criticizes his force rather bitterly, but their real object is not so much to engage the Turkish forces on equal terms, as to stiffen the Bedouin resistance, by providing the comforting spectacle of a trained reserve, and to impress the Turks with the fact that behind the Bedouin screen lies an unknown quantity, which must be disposed of before they can conquer Aqaba.195
In fact, the regulars would become more than that. Although no more than 5,000 men strong at any time, organised into two ‘divisions’, and with some distinctly irregular habits (many of the tribesmen from the Hedjaz mountains or the Yemen refused to wear the uniform, or any other, trousers)196 the regulars would fight pitched battles in 1918, and add exactly the kind of stiffening and support that Lawrence felt the tribesmen needed.
Nor was Captain J.D. MacIndoe, a Scots Guardsman attached to the staff, the only one to be distressed at the sight of the Arab regulars. On arriving at Feisal’s camp with his armoured car unit, Driver Sam Rolls was shocked to recognise both Ja’far and Nuri Bey, who he had fought against in the Western Desert the previous year:
I gripped the arm of a man standing next to me; he was startled and tired to shake me off. ‘Look!’ I exclaimed.
‘Look at what?’ he said brusquely.
‘That’s Ja’far Pasha!’ I cried, amazed. ‘I know him well. We captured him near Sollum and sent him to Cairo. He was leading the Senussi against us!’
Then my eye fell on another of them. ‘Good God! And there’s Nuri Bey!’ I cried. ‘The cunning dodger! Now, what’s the game here?’
More than once I had chased Nuri on his piebald horse in the Libyan Desert, and but for his clever choice of ground I should certainly have caught him. How these two had managed to reach their present position was a mystery to me. I felt an impulse to rush to Lawrence and confess my great discovery to him.197
All was later cleared up, and Rolls would later happily reminisce (through translators, including Lawrence himself) with his former enemies.
Rolls had felt no such disquiet when he first met Lawrence at Aqaba. His unit had arrived three weeks previously, and had been delayed while they made a track suitable for their cars to climb from the port to Wadi Itm. It had been a frustrating and hard time, with little idea as to where they were or what they supposed to be fighting for or achieving. Late one day there arrived ‘a group of dishevelled Arabs, mounted on richly harnessed camels’:
‘Yalla! Imshi! Clear off!’ I shouted to the first of the Arabs, who was making his camel kneel.
He paid no heed, so I swung my hands at him, palms forward, as one shoos chickens. He had left his camel now, and seeing me doing this he hastened towards me, which struck me as strange. Looking now, for the first time, full into his eyes, I had a shock. They were steel grey eyes, and his face was red, not coffee-coloured like the faces of other Arabs. Instead of the piercing scowl there was laughter in those eyes … He placed his hand for a moment on my shoulder. ‘My name is Lawrence,’ said he, ‘I have come to join you.’
I had never heard of Lawrence. Who had? Nobody knew what he had done or was doing … but this unexpected meeting meant more to me than the most sensational and true reports could have meant … In this moment my carking anxiety and the feeling of purposelessness and of boredom left me completely, and I never knew it again throughout the war. My first sight of Lawrence brought me ease and happiness, a most satisfying feeling that my little labours had a purpose, and a fine one.198
Ja’far himself only mentions Lawrence fleetingly in his memoirs, even though it was Lawrence who initially facilitated Ja’far’s joining the Sharifian forces. However, he would later describe the Arab reaction to this influential man:
We all appreciated his courage and devotion to duty at all costs to his life and comfort. He gave us a good and concrete example of self sacrifice for the common cause and the benefit of others. He appeared very reserved, sometimes even cynical and sarcastic, but only against those who were not sincere and true in their dealings with him.
A simple man, he did like simplicity in almost everything. This is why he was so attractive to and attracted by the Bedouins of the desert.199
Under the supervision (direct command was impractical) of Allenby, Feisal’s men would raid deep into Syria against the railways and other supply lines of the Ottomans. Once the offensive that Allenby was planning for the autumn began, they would protect his right flank while continuing to raid behind the lines. The other Arab forces would continue as before, and continue to come under the supervision of the High Commissioner in the Sudan.200 There was some concern over how the Emir of Mecca would take this abrupt appropriation of one of his sons and his army, but on his return Lawrence met with Hussein and received his full blessing. After all, he now had British sanction and support to spread his influence and control deep into Syria.201
Notes
* Despite being the most written about Briton of the twentieth century (apart from possibly Sir Winston Churchill), Lawrence is an enigmatic figure. His character is rife with contradictions: a man who craved obscurity and yet wrote widely about his exploits; a man who felt himself to be physically weak – and indeed was often struck with illness during the war – and yet who performed feats of great strength and endurance; he was haunted by self-doubt, but was equally determined to play a critical role in shaping the future of the Arab peoples. Unfortunately for historians, he was also a proven liar and embellisher in his letters, reports and memoirs, while at the same time often being the only witness to record the events he described. There is no space here to fully discuss Lawrence’s character or his impact on the Arab Revolt, but the author would recommend: James Barr’s Setting the Desert on Fire, Michael Asher’s Lawrence: The Uncrowned King of Arabia, and Michael Korda’s Hero: The Life and Legend of Lawrence of Arabia.
180 TNA FO882/4 Garland’s Report
181 Barr Desert pp. 68–70
182 Falls Vol. 2 p. 398
183 Barr Desert pp. 95–6
184 Barr Desert p. 107
185 Lawrence Seven Pillars, Chapter 34 (There are so many different editions of Seven Pillars that chapters are given rather than page numbers, to aid finding the quote in any copy.)
186 Barr Desert p. 106
187 Barr Desert pp. 226–7
188 TNA FO882/6
189 Lawrence Seven Pillars, Chapter 42
190 Lawrence Seven Pillars, Chapter 43
191 Lawrence Seven Pillars, Chapter 43
192 Some have questioned whether this patrol ever took place. See Asher p. 246
193 Falls Vol. 2 p. 398
194 Barr Desert pp. 144–5
195 TNA FO882/7
196 Ja’far al-Askari, p. 130
197 Rolls pp. 141–2
198 Rolls pp. 130–1
199 Ja’far al-Askari, pp. 255–6
200 Falls Vol. 2 pp. 397–8
201 Barr Desert p. 154
8
TRENCH WARFARE
AFTER THE END of the 2nd Battle of Gaza, both sides hurriedly worked to dig in and improve their defences. Immediately south and south-east of Gaza the temporary British line that had been used as a jump-off point was turned into a proper trench system, with multiple lines, barbed wire and communications trenches leading back to the Wadi Ghazze. The jumbled terrain disallowed regular lines, and each side held outposts, hills and spurs that jutted into, or even sat detached within, no-man’s-land. By the time they reached Sheikh Abbas, the lines were up to 3.2km (2 miles) apart, and then widened considerably as the Ottomans stuck to the Gaza–Beersheba road and the Egyptian Expeditionary Force’s (EEF) lines cut down to the south, to keep close to the water sources along the Wadi. The British trenches petered out a few miles beyond the important springs at Shellal, by which time they were 14km (9 miles) from the nearest Ottoman positions at the Hureira Redoubt, although two strong parallel lines of out
posts and redoubts carried on to the south-east, protecting the open flank. All along the front the artillery on both sides kept up sporadic bouts of spite against enemy trenches or rear areas, while the German pilots of FA-300s made full use of their continuing air superiority to bomb and strafe British positions, camps, dumps and patrols. Both artillery and aircraft caused a small, steady trickle of casualties, although beyond doubt the latter were more feared. Seeming to roam and attack at will, the feeling of nakedness and defencelessness that a diving aeroplane engendered in those on the receiving end caused much greater damage to morale than physical harm.
To the east of Shellal, the strings of outposts and the wide open space between the lines were held by the cavalry. The springs at Shellal, sitting on the edge of the Wadi Ghazze, were taken as a base camp, although as yet they were under-developed. Even by midsummer, Sergeant S.F. Hatton of the Middlesex Yeomanry would record it as being:
Just a dirty spot upon a dust-laden wind-swept filthy plain. It was grit, grit everywhere – grit and chlorine in the tea, grit and chlorine in the stew; but grit without chlorine on the bread and jam. Water was very scarce as it was the dry season, and a wash twice a week was a luxury; but by saving a little tea one could shave every day.202
In fact, the springs at Shellal (which means ‘cataract’ or ‘waterfall’) were in the process of an immense development, along with massive cisterns to hold the 200,000 gallons (over 900,000 litres) a day that would eventually be pumped out.203 So prolific would they become that today the ‘dust-laden wind-swept filthy plain’ is a lush green holiday camp and golf course, and the water is more palatable now that the army has stopped chlorinating it against disease. A few miles south-east down the Wadi, which at this point was around 18m (60ft) deep and 75m (80yds) wide, the Tel el Fara sat on the southern bank like a redoubt. Raised above the surrounding banks and giving excellent views in all directions, this tel was appropriated by A&NZ Mounted Division as their base. The cavalry divisions were rotated regularly, usually monthly, to allow men and horses time at rest camps on the coast. And rest was certainly deserved, as when they were deployed they saturated the area with patrols and played deadly games of cat-and-mouse with their Ottoman counterparts in the scattered hills and wadis. Units from squad-size up to multiple divisions took part in raids, ambushes and reconnaissances across the area.
It was a continuous effort requiring confidence and an aggressive spirit, and was generally enjoyed by all of the Australian, New Zealand and British cavalrymen who took part. But it was also a job that needed skill, judgement and luck. Henry Bostock was a member of the Scout Troop of the 3rd ALH Brigade, and as such was more active than most in this intricate little war:
Next morning reveille was at 1 a.m. The Scouts formed the advance screen on the march to el Karm and continued in a south-easterly direction until we met the Turkish cavalry at dawn. We chased them back several miles, exchanging shots on horse back, and took up a position near Beersheba. We held this all day, got some good shooting and had some narrow escapes. I was considered the best marksman in the troop and [was] often called upon. We often wondered why the whole Turkish cavalry regiment was not ordered to cut us off. They were armed with lance, sword and rifles. Perhaps our horses were too fast.
After returning to camp at 11 p.m., the Scouts were up again at two next morning to act as supports for an ambush set by the 8th Light Horse Regiment, but the Turks were too cunning to be trapped.204 A few nights later Bostock was wounded, and one of his colleagues killed, when his night-time patrol literally ran into an Ottoman patrol in the dark.
In May a series of raids were launched against the Ottoman railway that ran south-east from Beersheba towards El Auja on the Egyptian border, and then past it to Kossaima. The area south of the border had been abandoned by the Ottomans earlier in the year, although a small garrison remained at El Auja and was supplied by rail. In fact, the rails and sleepers (equally valuable in a country with a limited industrial base and facing a severe shortage of wood) south of El Auja had already begun to be torn up, for reuse in the expanding rail network supporting the Gaza–Beersheba defensive line.205 However, General Murray did not know this. Reconnaissance reports from the Royal Flying Corps stated that the lines were still in place, misinterpreting the impressions of the freshly removed rails as tracks that had been covered with a thin layer of sand. Murray only saw a potential back door around his flank and into the Sinai Desert, where an Ottoman attack, or even large-scale raid, could cause havoc with his lines of communications. Indeed, intelligence was reporting that reinforcements were arriving in southern Palestine, and it seemed a distinct possibility that some of these might be directed into such an attack. General Chetwode, commanding Eastern Force, was more dubious, feeling that any Ottoman advance along that line would leave their own lines of communication so vulnerable that they risked being cut off and defeated.206 Murray was insistent, however, perhaps due to the pressure he was himself receiving from London to be more aggressive and pro-active on this front, and he pressed Chetwode into forming a plan. This came to consist of a two-pronged attack on the railway, with the 1st ALH Brigade escorting the combined Royal Engineer contingents of the A&NZ and Imperial Mounted Divisions to Bir Asluj, about 19km (12 miles) south of Beersheba, and the Imperial Camel Corps (ICC) Brigade attacking El Auja. Meanwhile, the rest of the Imperial Mounted Division would create a diversion south of Beersheba, while an artillery bombardment would be carried out on Gaza.207 This plan eventually evolved to include three days of diversionary attacks along the whole front, and the deployment of the entire A&NZ Mounted Division.
Interestingly, a few days after the serious planning began, cast-iron evidence arrived that the rails had been removed. No. 16 Company of the ICC Brigade (reinforced with members of No. 2 Company) had launched their own raid across the Sinai to the railway at El Auja on 6 May 1917. The six-day patrol destroyed a railway bridge and several wells, and captured some Ottoman rail workers. Both the prisoners and direct observation confirmed that the rails had gone.208 Regardless of this, diversionary operations began on 19 May, and on 22 May the main raiding forces left their respective bases, the ICC Brigade from Rafah and the A&NZ Mounted Division from Tel el Fara. Following the pattern set in the long-range raids in the northern Sinai six months earlier, the attacking forces rode all night to come up on their target areas at dawn, having rounded up and secured the local civilian populations first. In the event both main parties were delayed by several hours, but no direct opposition was met although the Imperial Mounted Division experienced some light skirmishing just south of Beersheba. The demolition work took only a few hours, and by dusk all of the forces were withdrawing as planned, although the cameliers were subsequently delayed when an RFC aircraft made a forced landing nearby. The brigade camped out overnight while the aircraft was repaired, and returned to Rafah the following day. Behind them, some 21–24km (13–15 miles) of railway embankment and nine bridges or culverts, as well as a considerable amount of Ottoman stores, had been destroyed.209
The military value of destroying a railway that was already being dismantled is open to debate, but the raid proved that the British, and the cavalry in particular, where still capable of long-range operations in the desert, and that such operations were possible on the open flank south of Beersheba. If nothing else it proved that Murray and his army were still capable of undertaking large-scale aggressive action. Unfortunately, it also acted as a warning to the Ottomans. Rafael de Nogales was on the staff of the 3rd (OT) Cavalry Division at Beersheba:
Now some Bedouins arrived to tell us that the enemy cavalry had taken El Khafir by surprise … This news, which fell like a bomb at our headquarters, finally disposed of the comfortable theory that the enemy would not dare advance by the south sector.210
Between May and September 1917, the Ottoman forces in this isolated garrison would be reinforced, their front-line strength more than doubling from 1.6 riflemen per yard of frontage, to 4.2 riflemen.211
&nbs
p; In the west, the infantry were also active in the confined spaces between the lines outside of Gaza. By day machine guns and snipers waited for opportunities to fire, while artillery regularly engaged in sporadic bombardments. At night British patrols probed and mapped the Ottoman lines in the darkness, while attempting to stop Ottoman patrols from doing the same. The Ottomans could also attempt to tap onto the many telephone lines that had been left scattered across the area by the British in the early battles, some of which were still connected to their main communications system.212 Not infrequently, British patrols encountered Ottoman soldiers, including officers, attempting to cross the lines and surrender.213
Trench raids were also mounted to test the defences, bring in prisoners for questioning, and keep up the offensive spirit. Such raids evolved out of the probing patrols which often involved lobbing grenades or firing a few rounds at the enemy trenches, but soon escalated into something else entirely. On 5 June 1917 the Ottomans mounted the first serious raid, against a small British outpost, about 160m (180yds) in front of Umbrella Hill. This lay on the edge between the coastal sand dunes and a wooded area on the side of Es Sire Ridge. The ground was heavily broken and covered in scrub, and so in daylight an eight-man piquet was kept out in front to warn of any enemy attack. At just after 6.15 a.m., after the usual morning ‘stand to’ had been stood down, the sentries were replaced and the daily routine begun, Ottoman snipers killed the two men of the 1/5th Royal Scots Fusiliers (RSF) from the piquet who were on watch, and a party of around twenty Ottoman soldiers rushed the rest. Their approach route was carefully chosen so that the first the troops in the front line knew of the attack was when they saw them pour into the outpost, struggling with the remaining Scottish soldiers. A rescue force was swiftly organised by Second Lieutenant J.M. Craig, of the 1/4th RSF but attached to the 1/5th, but by the time they had reached the outpost three of the piquet were dead, two dying and three missing. A second Ottoman force opened fire from close by to cover the retreat of the main raiding group, while longer-range machine-gun and artillery fire began to fall around them. Several of the rescue party were themselves wounded, and Craig repeatedly braved the barrage despite being hit himself to bring wounded soldiers in before British artillery managed to suppress the enemy fire. For his selfless bravery, he was later awarded the Victoria Cross.
From Gaza to Jerusalem Page 14
