With a Highland Regiment in Mesopotamia | Page 2

The trenches were knee deep in
mud and water, and were without dug-outs or shelters; the enemy were
in great numbers and combined their aggressive tactics with the use of
trench mortars and grenades, weapons of which we had neither
knowledge nor training; of rest for man or officer there was little, yet
no yard of trench entrusted to the Battalion was ever lost either in
France or Mesopotamia. With the spring came better times, and at
Neuve Chappelle a fine victory was won at small cost, but on the 9th of
May the Battalion suffered heavily in making an attack from the
Orchard in front of the Rue-de-Bois. Often and with pleasure have we
in the Iraq looked back on that summer spent in Picardy. Scouts and
snipers, machine gunners and bombers, we all have different memories
of those stirring days as the battalion moved from month to month
along the trenches from Givenchy Hill to Northward of Laventie; and
of the days of rest in billets behind Bethune, Richebourg and the Rue
de Paradis; memories of close comradeship, of well-loved friends, of
most noble deeds and of lives freely given for King and Country. But
the day we recall now and shall ever recall as the red letter day of the
year is the 21st of September. Five battalions of the Regiment joined
that day in the battle of Loos, and though separated in the line, at one in
spirit, all five battalions swept forward regardless of loss, driving the
enemy from their trenches, captured line after line of the position and
penetrated deep into the German defences.

The 2nd and 4th Battalions had attacked together from Fauguissart and,
in reaching the Moulin de Pictre, an advance of two miles made with
little support on either left flank or right, the losses had been so severe
that the two battalions were afterwards amalgamated into one under the
command of Colonel Wauchope. These two battalions, in conjunction
with another Highland Regiment under Colonel Thompson, despite
several attacks and four mines being blown up within our first line,
held Givenchy Hill throughout October. Then, when the Germans
quieted down in this neighbourhood, we returned to our old line near
the Rue de Bois. There rumour had it that the Indian Corps was soon to
be sent to Mesopotamia. Some welcomed the idea of change, no one
looked forward to another four months of the mud of Flanders. Almost
everyone who did not know imagined that they would be giving up
every discomfort which the winter brought for a pic-nic in the East, and
a quick, successful and enjoyable march to Baghdad, and so when the
rumours were confirmed, the whole battalion was in great spirits. Some
obtained short leave to say 'Good-Bye' to their friends across the
channel before leaving for the East, where there would be no short
visits home, no getting letters and parcels daily, but the Regiment had
gained great honour beneath foreign skies, so probably it was going to
add to them even if it was only establishing marching records along the
Tigris to their goal at Baghdad. Besides, was not Townshend and his
gallant force in danger in Kut? And the idea of forming part of the
relieving column appealed to every man.
So at the end of November the Regiment entrained behind that long
Western Front where they had fought for so many months against such
terrific odds, and where so many gallant comrades lay buried, and
everyone was happy, and no one thought that within a few short weeks
the battalion would practically cease to exist. Before they arrived in
France, many had never left the shores of Great Britain, and now they
were embarking on an Expedition that would reveal to them some of
the wonders of the East. Is it any wonder, under those circumstances,
that no one was downhearted?
The train journey through the heart of France from the mud of the
trenches, leaving the cold and cheerless days behind for the sunny

south was full of interest, and of looking forward to what was in store.
Marseilles, that busy Mediterranean Port which has seen such
wonderful scenes of troops arriving from all parts of the world, and of
all colours, naturally turned out to see the Regiment it had welcomed to
defend its Frontiers a year before, and which was now en-route to
defend and fight for the honour of the Allied cause three thousand
miles away. And so on December the 6th, it was 'Good-Bye' to the
pleasant land of France, and the Regiment embarked on the Transport
nine hundred and fifty strong. Having suffered heavy casualties on the
Western Front, few of the original number left France, bound for
Basrah via the Suez Canal.
Before leaving, in appreciation of