Inside, however, was a scene of utter desolation. Not a living thing was to be seen in this city, which once held 40,000 souls, save an occasional, hungry pariah dog, engaged in his horrible work among the graves of the dead.
[Illustration: Ruins of the Great Mosque at Gaza, showing one of the arches of the old Crusader Church.]
The great mosque, which had once been a noble, Christian church, was almost entirely destroyed, but not by our guns. The Turks had used it as an ammunition depot, with that callous disregard for the Holy Places of their own religion which was always so characteristic of them, and, when the city was abandoned, they blew up the great store of shells there, and laid the mosque in ruins. Some of the lower arches remained, and one beautiful Norman gateway, but all the rest was a heap of tumbled masonry.
The German headquarters was in the north-west corner of the town, close to the remains of a graceful little Greek church. The house in which the officers lived was screened from view on all sides, and, as it was far removed from any of the enemy defences, it had escaped serious damage. But it was satisfactory to note that both the tennis courts, which had been made with such evident pains, had been visited by eight-inch shells.
The rest of the city was a mass of ruins, stark and silent. And so it is likely to remain for all time, an awful witness to the devastation of war. Its inhabitants have neither the energy of the people of Europe, nor the incentive of a bitter climate, and they are never likely to rebuild it.
By the end of January our front had been thoroughly consolidated, and the infantry had recovered from the hard fighting and cruel weather of December. The Commander-in-Chief now determined to extend his line to the Jordan, in order to secure his right flank.
There were several other advantages to be gained by securing possession of one or two crossings over the river. The enemy was at this time obtaining large supplies of grain from the districts round Kerak, in the land of Moab, on the eastern and south-eastern shores of the Dead Sea. This grain was carried across the sea, in barges towed by motor boats, to the north end, whence it was transported to the Turkish front by the good metalled road from Jericho to Jerusalem. With Jericho and the crossings of the Jordan immediately north of the Dead Sea in our hands, we should have control of the sea, and all this traffic would be stopped. The grain would then have to be brought up to Amman, thirty miles east of the Jordan, by the Hedjaz Railway, and transported from there over some fifty miles of bad mountain track. In the extremely disorganised state of the Turkish transport, this would be likely to cause the enemy much inconvenience and delay. The control of the river crossings at Jericho would also facilitate raiding operations across the Jordan, directed against the enemy's line of communications with the Hedjaz.