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R. Lyell, the surgeon of the Guides, took on himself to carry forward the much needed succour. In reserve lying near him was the Gurkha company of the Guides, and also a company of the 66th Gurkhas under a native officer.
Another, very ably commanded by Captain C. Norbury, was the far more fascinating blockhouse known as Gurkha Post, noted for its bathing, fishing and agreeable remoteness from staff officers. It was delightful to ride out from Shallufa camp along a track called "the pilgrims' way" to so charming a spot for a swim in the Canal and pleasures impossible on the dust-swept desert.
Lunched with Hunter-Weston at his Headquarters, and then walked out along the new road being built under the cliffs from "W" Beach to Gurkha Gully. On the way I stopped at the 29th Divisional Headquarters where I met de Lisle. Thence along the coast where the 88th Brigade were bathing. In the beautiful hot afternoon weather the men were happy as sandboys.
Wrote Fitz in much the same sense: "We are desperately keen to extract a Gurkha Brigade out of Egypt and you might lend a hand, not only to us, but to all your own Sikh and Dogra Regiments, by making K. see that the Indian Army was never given a dog's chance in the mudholes. They were benumbed: it was not their show.
It is a strange thing, sahib, but I have never seen it otherwise, that spade work which is surely the most important thing is the last thing troopers will attend to unless compelled. They will comb their beards, and decorate the trench with colored stones and draw names in the mud, but the all-important digging waits. Sikh and Gurkha and British and French are all alike in that respect.
At the end of the Gurkha line I was met by Colonel Wolley Dod, who took me round the fire trenches of the 86th Brigade. The Dublin Fusiliers looked particularly fit and jolly. Getting back to the head of the Gully I rode with Hunter-Weston to his Corps Headquarters where I had tea before sailing. When I got to Imbros the Fleet were firing at a Taube.
"This," said the Colonel of Gurkhas, softly, "is the real attack, as it ought to have been delivered. Come on, my children." "Ulu-lu-lu-lu!" squealed the Gurkhas, and came down with a joyful clicking of kukris those vicious Gurkha knives. On the right there was no rush. "Charrging is an unfortunate necessity," murmured the Color-Sergeant of the right company of the Highlanders.
The Gurkha rear-companies tripped and blundered over loose stones. The front-files halted for a moment to take stock of the valley and to settle stray boot-laces. Then a happy little sigh of contentment soughed down the ranks, and it was as though the land smiled, for behold there below was the enemy, and it was to meet them that the Gurkhas had doubled so hastily. There was much enemy.
A Gurkha servant with the ugly, cheery face of his race appeared and was ordered to bring three whiskeys and sodas. "Ranga's not a bad place if you can stand the loneliness," continued the Major. "Are you fond of shooting." "Yes, sir, awfully." "Hooray! That's good," cried Burke. "Now we'll have someone to go down to the jungle and shoot for the Mess.
"All right I'm coming, aren't I? I don't need to be ordered to go." In silence we went down Gurkha Mule Trench into Gully Ravine, where the horse lines were. "Saddle up Charlie," said Monty to his groom, "and get the Major's chestnut for Captain Ray." The groom brought the horses, and, as he tightened up the girth on Monty's dark bay Arab, asked me: "Are you going to see Mr. Doe, sir?"
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