Diary of Trooper Ion Llewellyn Idriess-Aug 1916-Part 1

sand spur, a mile away from  

us, and half a mile to the

north of the spur, I could

see the most advanced

Turkish outpost. They were six

men, and had just turned

to. One chap stood looking in

my direction a long time. Then

another man came up to him,

and another. After a while the

six of them picked up some

equipment, and leisurely walked

back to their camp. Exactly

the same thing was happening

to the south of the sand

spur, where I espied another

outpost. Soon the low hills

in front of us were dotted

with men and three miles

away, where Bir-el-Mageibra

just lay hidden behind a

sand ridge, came a

themselves too much I

myself believe. After a

while we got sorted out,

and moved back in the

dark towards the ridges

away back where we

had to where we had 

started on our charge

early in the afternoon. When

we got there we found

we had to go back to

Romani for the night.

What a weary, dreary

ride that was. Only a

few miles, but it took

us hours to do it. Our

little battery had to

find a road, we 

were constantly being

halted by the infantry

around Romani. It

was nothing but "Halt",

thick spiral of smoke

evidently the cooking fires

of the main camp. Fronting

us on the small sand

ridgesmen were working

digging trenches. We could

plainly see them jumping in

and out of the trenches, and

the dirt flying out. On

other parts of the field men

seemed to be walking dimlessly

about. What they

were doing it was too far

away to see. Then on the

fire far skyline towards

the smoke came a well

laden string of camels. We

could not help remarking

what a splendid target

for shrapnel the smoke of

their fires would be. After

looking at the long sand

spur in front for a long

Halt, Halt." We would

tumble off our saddles

roll in the sand fast

asleep, only for a few

minutes, then on again,

all through the night.

Some hours little time

before sunrise we

halted at Romani, rolled

out of our saddles, and

fell asleep on the sand.

And so ended our fight

at Quatia. . . . .After

daylight we were awake,

watered our horses with

some trouble, put a 

feed on them, opened

some bully beef and

started eating biscuits,

when we had to take

the horses feed off, ten

mount, and off again.

time, I suggested to Mr

Stanfield to let me go

down from the hill, and

crawl along the sand spur

where I could easily have

crawled between the two

Turkish outposts, taken

some good snapshots of

their trenches, seen exactly

what they were doing, and

then crawled back along

the razor back. From there

I would have had to take

my chance of getting back

to the observation post, as

the long climb up the big hill

is one long stretch of white

sand quite devoid of cover

Mr Stanfield was struck

with the idea, but after

due consideration decided

it was far too risky, as

A long column of mounted

men were already riding

towards Romani. Quatia.

We passed over the ridge where

we had started on the charge,

and extended over the

lower country leading

towards the big Quatia oasis.

But not a shot was fired.

Here and there were little

groups of Tommy infantry,

making towards the oasis,

and even in that early

hour they were parched with

thirst. Some of them were

even digging in the salt pans

for water. Many of our

fellows gave them water,

which we could very

ill spare ourselves. Still

not a shot fired, and

his express orders was to 

absolutely remain unseen.

After a while he said we

would come up very early

to-morrow morning, and

he would go down the sand

ridge with me, and we

would see what we could see.

We watched for a while

longer, then had a good look

at our own position, and

found we were in a veritable

death trap. There was no

approach to the top of the hill

except by the narrow valley,

which was absolutely commanded

by the steep side of the hill on

either side of the falle valley

and by the top of the hill which

looks straight down the

valley. The Turks had only

to send a few men to block

the big dark oasis, which

had been alive with the

sound of death yesterday,

was as silent as the grave.

Here and there was a

dead horse, a little group

of dead Turks, and here

two New Zealanders. The

Turks had abandoned the

Quatia oasis during the

night, and we rode right

through it, the infantry

struggling behind and

remaining in possession.

We passed on to the low

sand hills in front, where

a mile ahead, the screen

of another Australian

Brigade was very close

on the heels of the Turkish

rear guard. This day

our own regiment was

the mouth of the valley, and

we were caught, with no 

chance of escape. After a

while we rode back down the

valley, then back to Wazet,

keeping a very wary lookout

all the way. At the well we

met Mr Broughton and his

four men, who were coming

to relieve us on Hill 200. We

explained the position to them, 

and then rode back to Nagid.

A telephone message had come

through for Mr Stanfield,

saying that two staff officers

were coming out that night,

and the Mr Stanfield was to

take them over the country, as

they were to pick a road for

artillery. If it was quite

safe they were to be taken

escort for our little Tommy

guns, then "Crack!". Silence,

then "Crack"! "Crack!", "Crack!".

Our full furthest out

scouts were in touch with

the enemy, or with snipers

"Crack!", "Crack!", "Crack!", "Crack!",

"Crack!", "Crack!". isolaced

rifle shots a mile away.

We went a little

further, in a tiny hollow

behind some small sand

ridges, the Tommies got

their guns in position, we

dismounted and waited.

The rifle shots slowly

increased in number until

in twenty minutes, there

was a continuous volume

of rifle fire extending

over a mile or more on

our front. As the

to hill 200 to catch a glimpse

of the Turkish camp, but on

no account were they to

be taken a into a position

where there was any possibility

of danger. This at once knocked

on the head our idea of crawling

along the sand spur into the

Turkish camp, but I determined

to go up in the morning, and see

if I had not overlooked any

possible way of getting into

their camp unobserved. That

night we slipped out of the

oasis into the donga, and

divided the horses into four

parties, in a rude circle, so

as each man on duty could

watch a fourth sector of the

sky line around us. The

night passed well, and before

daybreak we were in the

morning wore on, heavy

firing broke out right

away on our right flank.

It was the Third Brigade

endeavouring to push in

the Turkish left flank.

Odd bullets flew over us,

and "plopped" in the sand

close by, but noone was 

hit. We justed waited,

the hardest thing in all

this terrible game of war.

Biscuit and bully beef

for dinner, and through the

heat of the afternoon we

lay in the shade cast by

the horses, some talking, some

smoking, some sleeping. About

the middle of the afternoon

we took the horses to an

oasis about a quarter of a

mile away, to water them.

oasis again, the fires were 

lit, and the outposts out.

It was late when our

party started out, (which was

well for us) Mr Stanfield, the

two artillery staff officers, and

five hordinary Horstralian

soldiers. We struck the well

at Wazet, and just after met

Mr Broughton with his patrol 

coming from Hill 200. What

a chain of great luck and a

little shrewd sense. Mr Broughton

was very suspicious as to the

security of our observation

post, and that morning, instead

of going up to the valley to the

old post, he had circled

around to the right, endeavouring

to find a more secure

post to observe from. In

the dark they had seen

A goodly number of men and

horses were clustered around

the well, when there came

a screaming whine, a

"Bang!", directly above us,

and the hiss of shrapnel

bullets raining around.

Buckets were dropped, men

scrambled up from the wells,

bits were hastily pushed

into the horses mouths,

"Bang", another rain of bullets

and we were away, scattering,

galloping pell mell

for cover. "Bang", "Bang",

the screaming shells

followed us, bullets

falling between Stan and

I, under our horses belly

over us, everywhere, me

screwing up my back

waiting for the bullet to

figures near our observation

post, but whether it was one of

our own wandering patrols or

not he could not say. Our

patrols then separated, we

going on ahead very carefully.

When fully a mile from Hill

200 we saw two figures

standing on the skyline looking

towards. We could not

tell who they were with the

glasses so went on again.

A little further on and the

two figures disappeared, but

we soon saw near the same

spot a group of about eight

men. We were very suspicious,

but could distinguish nothing

to tell us whether the men were

Turks or our own patrol.

When about half a mile from

the foot of the big hill we

hit, but we came safely

through, and got back to

the rest of the regiment.

Then from our own guns

went an answering Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang! and four

of our shells answered the

Turkish guns. Then came

the reply, the whining

scream, coming, coming,

coming, men crouched

behind their horses as it

came overhead, then swish,

"Bang" a rain of bullets

just behind us and over

the battery. A distant

"Boom", then the screaming

shell again, coming,

coming, here ah! too far

to the right, thank God,

as the cloud of shrapnel

smoke drifts lazily over

suddenly saw that one of 

the ridges on the left of the

valley was lined with men.

We halted, and very carefully

took in the situation. Now the

right bank of the valley was a

fairly steeply rising hill, whose

summit was our observation

post. We could well see up this

right hand side of the hill, but

nothing suspicious was there.

It was on the left hand hill,

which formed the left hand

side of the valley, where we

could now see an outpost

and a ridge which was

lined with men. We went on

until we got to the mouth

of the valley, but instead of

turning into the valley, Mr

Stanfield called out to go

up the hill to the right which

a ridge to our right.

Here she comes again, Men

crouch low. The shell

screams directly overhead,

bursting instantly, throwing

a rain of hissing bullets

just behind and in among

the last of the battery horses.

What a great range the

Turkish battery has got.

If they burst their shells

only a hundred yards

shorter they will sweep the

whole of the regiment and

the artillery horses again.

A crashing quick "Bang!"

"Bang" "Bang" "Bang" we hear

the lightning scream of our

own shells searching for

the Turking battery. Ah,

here comes another it

scream, a "bang", a 

formed the right hand

side of the valley. Now on

the tops of these sand hills

the wind blows the fine sand

into a long crest which we

call a razorback, which

extends from the bottom of

the hill to the extreme top.

In the case of this hill the

razorback extended up to

halfway to a height of five

feet, and ten feet in thickness!

We clung to the edge of

the razorback, using it as

a shield between us and

the men lining the ridge on

the other side of the valley.

When we got halfway up

the big hill, we could

see the parallel hill on the

left of the valley lined

with men. I tell you we