Diary of Verner Gladders Knuckey, 1916 - Part 4
58
opinion the sun shines on our
boys, we treat them as equals.
The Tommies look down on them,
they are a splendid class of men,
and almost all have had
some college education, an
Englishman called one a vile
name the other night, it was
enough for the Indian, he
knocked him down and then
gave him a piece of his mind,
the air was sulpurous (if I
can use the expression) but the
Indian drove some solid truths
into the Tommy's thick head.
The Australians cheered and
the English were silent. Still
you must not think we are
enemies, we are all one huge
family and should Mr Turk
come he will find we quarrel
but can fight together.
59
Wednesday
July 20th Sunday
as can be seen by the entries
which are few and far between, the
life in camp must be very monotonous,
nothing ever happens worth
recording. Last Monday our Regimental
Brass Band (which is
stationed at our Brigade Head
Quarters at Serapium Rail head)
paid us a visit for two days, we
had lots of good music, they
would play in one of our mess
sheds for a couple of hours in the
afternoon and then again out in
front of our tents in the evening.
It could easily be seen that the
men appreciated the treat, they all
lay out on the sand, smoking
and listening to the music, on
Tuesday evening after playing in
the lines till dark, they retired to
the Y.M.C.A. tent, cleared a place
60
for the band and gave us a
concert that would cost money to
hear in Australia. The band left
us early Wednesday morning.
I believe the "Bulletin" has
taken up our case by asking
the question "Where is the cold
footed 3rd Brigade" and then
there answer was "Only a little
Ant and the enemy know" (Our
Brigadier General's name is Anthill).
It is hard to be branded cold footed
for being compelled to stay here,
we are thoroughly disheartened at
not getting away to France and
that sick of the whole thing that
the least said soonest mended.
I came over last November feeling
keen and anxious to do something,
today I absolutely don't care what
happens, my case is the same as
every other man with me here,
61
we are simply living here against
our will and waiting for the
war to end so as to allow us to
go home.
July 21st Thursday.
At last some excitement has
come our way, we can only
depend on rumor, our officers
tell us nothing but news leaks
out all the same, the enemy
have bombed Suez thirty miles
south of us and we hear there is
heavy fighting at Kantara about
thirty miles north, the enemy
are also supposed to be advancing
down towards our locality of
the Canal zone. At present it
is believed that our 3rd Brigade
is to move out on Tuesday, some
say to go up to Kantara and
others think it is to go out and
meet the advancing forces.
62
I prefer the former as there is
always the chance of something
doing up there and it would
probably mean a permanent
move from this camp. The
sooner we say "Mafish" to here
the better pleased all of us will
be.
Anyhow there must be
something doing this time, our
rest camp has closed up, the
men that arrived there on
Tuesday for their eight days
were recalled hurriedly on
Thursday and ever since there
has been a feeling of excitement
running through the camp. Last
night the boys went to bed singing
and feeling happier than
they have felt for many weeks
and our only hope is that this time
it won't turn out a false alarm.
Novr 1st. Over three months since I
made an entry here, it seems much
longer as in that three months such
a lot has been crammed in and
we have had our share of hardships
and also hard work, now
that it is finished for a week or
so and we are supposed to be here
at Romani resting I must see
what I can make of the few notes
I was able to keep whilst out on
the front line, they are short and,
in many cases hard for even me to
understand myself, only one good
thing the dates were correct and
my memory must supply all
the details of our three months
out on the firing line. With reference
to the fighting I will only
put down incidents and things
that happened just in my particular
spot, one could fill books of the
yarns he hears after the fight is over
but after twelve months experience in
the army a man finds that he
can only believe half of what he sees
and nothing he hears.
On July 27th the regiment left
Fairy Post Rail Head for Ballah Bunyah,
our long looked for move
had come at last, rumors were
constantly coming in of fighting
around Romani and this move
was taking us directly towards
that part of the country. I will
always remember that day, we
started early to clean up everything,
the night before I had
said goodbye to my friend
Arthur Bliss at the Y.M.C.A,
we were both sorry to part.
though a Queensland boy we
had spent many an hour talking
of home and home folk, what
we wanted to do on our return,
and also had many a little picnic
in his tent when parcels came by
the home mail.
The London Yeomanry arrived
at about 10 a.m. to relieve us and
after an early dinner we formed
up and marched out of camp,
I am afraid we looked rather a
rag time mob, our horses were
loaded from head to tail, bags,
blankets, pannikans, plates and
numerous other things hanging
from every available place on
the saddle, as one looks back
on that move he cannot help
but smile, for we soon learnt
to do without all those things
and travel about with only
bare necessities on board.
Just as we got clear of the camp
an order was given which necessitated
the 8th doing some galloping to get
into position, the fun started then,
some of these articles were not tied
on securely and of course had to go,
all along the track for a couple of
miles were water buckets full of
articles of clothing, feed bags,
plates, mugs, caps, undoubtedly
our tracks could be followed by
what we left behind, everyone was
happy and each time a man
made an attempt to save some
loose article he would be greeted
with "Let her go, the turks are
sure to have plenty more." I
might say that months after
this move the N.C.O's were
attending a lecture given by
our Brigade Major (McLaren) and
he spoke of this particular march,
and whilst condemning it, he
compared it to a march made by us
later on under different circumstances,
where every man was almost dead
from exhaustion, had been in the
saddle for about 36 hours (almost
without a spell) and after riding
all night attacking a place at
day break and marching back
again arriving at camp at
8 p.m. and all without confusion,
so different to our exit
Ferry Post camp.
About 6 p.m we arrived at
Ballah Bunyah camp, so different
to our previous camps, here were
trenches and wire entanglements,
and fortifications of all sorts, it
was a huge camp but very compact.
That night and the next
day (Sat.) we had to camp
outside the redoubt waiting for
stables to become vacant, it was a
very hot day and the little shade
we got from our blankets stuck up
on the rifles was very meagre, still
we soon learnt to put with those
discomforts later on. A few of our
horses died after that trip and one
chap who had always caused
great fun on account of his silly
talk seemed to go right off his head,
some said he was working to get
sent home to Australia, if so he
proved a good actor as three
months after his name was read
out in orders as going home,
personally I think he went mad in
real earnest, no shamming was
needed.
On Sunday 31st July we once
more packed up and moved into
our proper position, inside the
redoubt and for a change find
stables were already built and
waiting for us, we soon had
our horses comfortably housed
and our gear in our tents, the rest
of the day and Monday was spent
getting things squared up and
having a look at our new home,
the impression created was on the
whole a good one, it appeared to
be a comfortable camp and we
soon had everything ship shape
little dreaming that all our work
was for such a short stay as from
now on our life was to be one
mad and yet orderly rush for
months to come.
On Wednesday evening I went
on in charge of the Guard and
on Thursday Aug. 3rd C. Squadron
were ordered out to an Oasis some
15 miles out in front to dig wells, as
my duty was not up till 6p.m.
that night I would miss going
and wishing to be on the spot if
a brawl happened I paraded early
that morning to ask to be relieved
of my duty to enable me to march
out with my troop, the relief was
promised only did not come till
1.20 p.m. and they were to go at
2 p.m., when my squadron Sergt
Major saw the position I was in
he told me I could please myself
about coming. Then started some
of the smartest work I ever did,
threw my things on the horse,
flew up to the Q.M for rations and,
watered my horse in time to move
with the rest, a few miles out
the S.M. rode past and his surprise
was amusing to see me
in my place, forty eight hours
after I regretted with all my
heart that I had been fool
enough to come but now it is
all over I am glad for it was
all experience and I secured
some fine photos for my trouble.
We marched for about four hours
when I got my first view of an
Oasis in the desert, I cannot explain
my feelings, coming over
miles of desolate sand, ridge after
ridge of it and then as we
marched through a narrow defile
of sand hills a beautiful mass
of green palms burst into view
within a few yards of us, palms
in such luxuriant perfection that
can never be seen in our gardens
at home, as we suddenly came
on them there was one loud
"Oh" from everyone for it was
something we had never seen
before and certainly never expected
to see out here. I soon
learnt that this desert life was
going to prove one continual
chapter of surprises and experiences
that would live in our
memory as long as we live.
We left two troops of our squadron
at this place to dig whilst the other
two (including the one I am in) went
about four miles further on, we
arrived at about dark and only
had time to fix camp and have
tea before some of us had to go
on out-post duty for the night.
I remember now we made rather
a smart move, after dark we
saddled up and moved out into
the desert to camp and came in
again at day break. The men
were soon at work digging and
now came another surprise for
though the sand on top was ^dry we
only dug a foot or eighteen inches
and water would ooze up, when
you get three feet down the pump
has to be kept continually going
to enable the digger to go the
required depth viz. from eight
to ten feet, sides boarded and
there you have a well that will
usually supply water at the rate of
about 200 gallons per hours, we dug
about four that day and the next,
the whole trip so far had proved
a picnic, the crook part was to
come. I got a number of fine
photos but so far have not seen
them developed, that has to come.
The palms were loaded with dates,
all red but none ripe and they
made a view that many a wealthy
man back in Australia would
have given a large sum of money
to have round his suburban home.
We were relieved about 7 p.m.
Friday 4th Aug, joined up the other
two troops at 8 p.m. and started
for Ballah Bunyah camp, expecting
to be in bed by midnight, we
soon proved the words of Burn's
poem about the plans of man, at
1 a.m. we were still riding and
no prospects of home, our leader
had missed his way and landed
us down almost on the canal
for most of the way some of the
boys sang to pass the time, away,
as the night wore on they became
silent, everyone was stiff and
tired and when we eventually
arrived in camp at 3 a.m. I for
one could not dismount, simply
had to fall off, it was absolutely
the most exhausting ride many of
us had ever done and as far as I
am concerned only one ride which
you will read about later on has
ever come up to it.
The next morning we turned
out 6.30 a.m. for stables thinking
that after our long ride we would
be able to rest all day after our
horses were attended to, at 7 a.m.
orders came out that the whole
Brigade had to be on the move
at 7.30, during my stay at the
wells a thorn had pierced one of the
fingers of the right hand and it
had swollen an enormous size, I
was only waiting to get to camp to
let the doctor attend to it so when this
order came out I explained to my
officer that I would stay in camp
for the day and come on with the
camels tomorrow. He said that
it meant fighting this time, there
would be no tomorrow as probably
some of us would be in Heaven by
then and if I was not coming to
hand my horse over to some other
man who had none, that was
enough for me, on my saddle
went and I moved out with
the others, for days I suffered
great pain with the hand only
would never have forgiven myself
had I stayed behind this
time, and yet it is well we cannot
see ahead.
Sat. 5th August. Soon after we left our camp
the big guns began their work away in front
of us somewhere, we marched under a
melting broiling sun all the morning, had
been ordered to leave everything behind
us, carried our one blanket and
were not allowed even to bring our
tunics on the saddle, everyone was
in his shirt sleeves, most of us with
only a tissue silk one on and yet
we found the extreme heat trying,
most of our Brigade of course were
fresh but after the trying ride for
C.Sqdn the night before we could
hardly sit on our saddles, there was
no songs this time, just plug
along best way we could. At
2 p.m. the Brigade arrived at a
big camp called Hill 70, watered
and fed the horses and then
rumaged round for our own
tucker the canteen soon ran
out of food and so we had to turn
to Bully beef for our midday meal. No
orders had issued of the next move, we
simply lay down behind the horses
and got an hours rest. At 4 p.m.
everyone was on the move once more,
doing what we could for our horses
as from now on they had to be the
first consideration, it might turn out
hard work for us but was certainly
going to be much worse for them.
The fighting was some miles
out in front, wounded men were
coming in and as we marched
forward that afternoon it would
have made a fine biograph picture,
regiment after regiment of our
Light Horse, signallers, Field ambulance,
carts, sledges, camels and any
other possible means to enable them
to get the wounded back for
proper attention.
Sandy MudieThis transcription item is now locked to you for editing. To release the lock either Save your changes or Cancel.
This lock will be automatically released after 60 minutes of inactivity.