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In the Line of Battle

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<h2 class="p4">CHAPTER IX</h2> THE “FLOOD” [The following extract from a letter written by Corporal Guy Silk, 2nd Battalion Royal Fusiliers, has been very kindly placed at my disposal. It describes a phase of life in Gallipoli of which little or nothing has been published—the storms and floods with which our troops had to contend in the now abandoned operations.] I have been wondering how you are getting on, and if you have been worrying over the absence of letters. There has only been one chance of sending a letter, and then I sent a card in an envelope to let you know that I was well. We have been through some terrible experiences since I last sent a proper letter, on November 25th. On the 26th we had one more of those terrible storms, and suddenly, as I was mopping some water from the dug-out floor, a “tidal wave” burst in, and I just had time to seize the Company Roll, my diary and letters, Horlick’s Malted Milk, and my rifle and bandolier. Then I climbed out of the dug-out, on to the parapet! The first, or rather second time I had done so (the first was to pick some tomatoes). By this time the trenches were completely flooded, and the whole valley was covered with water ankle-deep. As the lightning flashed I saw a group of fellows near me, and they joined me on my mound. All around were similar groups. We laughed and[131] pretended to be enjoying it, so as to keep our spirits up. The water rose and rose, and when it was knee-deep we started off for a piece of higher ground we saw in the distance. We were in to the waist, and the current was tremendous. We settled down on this mound—the first one we saw proved to be just a clump of weed tops. The regimental sergeant-major joined us, but was nearly unconscious, and suffering with ague. I laid him on my lap, and there we stayed until daylight. It was bitterly and painfully cold, and a curious sight too, when we first saw the huge mass of water and groups of wet men. I took the S.-M. on to headquarters, and there he was undressed and rubbed and wrapped in some dry blankets. Then our company sergeant-major was brought down, quite delirious, and Jackson and I took him on to the clearing-station. It was fine to get on to higher ground out of the water. I reckon this walking saved me. I went back to the company, and found the water had gone from the ground in the valley, and the chaps were lying in hastily constructed breastworks behind the rear parapet. The trenches were like canals, and were acting as drains. The Turks shelled a lot. This was on Saturday. In the evening and early morning of Sunday it snowed and froze, and on Sunday at daybreak we were ordered to find our way to the brigade “dump.” At about midday we got some food and dry clothes. It was grand, after two nights and a day of sodden and frozen things. We had a roll-call on Monday, and we were 63—on[132] the Friday afternoon we were 600 odd. I was made corporal—Baldion said I must be, so as to “help to hold the fellows together,” and for a few days was acting company S.-M.! We expected to go to Alexandria, but had to stay to drain the trenches. A big draft joined us, and did most of the work, our feet were too sore. (I spent one whole day rubbing feet—a savoury job, since baths are unheard of.) On the Thursday after the “Flood” (everything dates from the “Flood” now) we went to find equipment, and the ground was covered with bodies. We are back on the Achi Baba end now, but have not quite given up hopes of a rest, at least for the “survivors.” I am orderly-room corporal now. Nearly all of us are employed at headquarters, so except for shells I am pretty safe, as we don’t have to make advances. We have had no mail since before the “Flood,” but hope to get one soon. Please tell Aunt —— I received and enjoyed her parcel (some was lost, buried when the trench fell in), and explain why I haven’t answered to thank her for it. Let every one know I am still alive in spite of the long silence. We heard to-night that no mail is leaving for three weeks from to-morrow. The sketch-book has gone. I found it, but it was “done.” We had a busy time when the “Flood” had abated, and I was continually taking my section out, digging up rifles and equipment, and we were all able to make up our losses in the way of shaving apparatus, knives and forks, etc. It was hard work, as the trench bottoms are knee-deep in mud. We wore waders. f133 <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/ill-168.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="282" alt="" title="" /> <div class="caption">[To face p. 133. DEVASTATION IN BELGIUM: RUINS IN THE FLOODS OF YSER. </div> </div> <hr class="chap" /> [133] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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