[Illustration: Quartermaster-sergeant HOBBS.]
[Illustration: The Regimental Sergeant-major In The Trenches. Sergeant-major A. SMART, M.C.]
[Illustration: No. 3 British General Hospital.]
The next evening after the Regiment was relieved the reserves being the last to come out of the trenches, I found a horse waiting for me, on the Commanding Officer's instructions, so that I would not have the exertion of the march back to camp; that and similar incidents made our affection for our Commanding Officer a very real thing. But being in reserve had one compensation, in the early morning before the sun rose and just at dawn to lie and watch the wonderful colourings on the Pusht-i-Kuh Hills, colours changing every moment, was always pleasurable, and suddenly a shell would burst near the artillery position and one would know the daily Hate and Strafe had started, and shortly after the sun would rise. We spent some uncomfortable evenings being shelled in these trenches, and watching and waiting for them to burst was not an enjoyable occupation. There were no safe dug-outs to seek safety in, one had to stick it out wherever one was situated and hope for the best. The damage done was seldom great beyond knocking the trenches about a bit and these were soon repaired. Having been put in charge of a digging party one morning in the rearward area whose duty it was to widen and deepen a communication trench, I saw a good opportunity while the work was going on of looking for souvenirs in the shape of Turkish shell caps. So getting out of the trench I commenced a search and continued for some time but without success, when I was driven to seek shelter in the trench by a shell bursting in close proximity, they had evidently spotted someone walking about and opened fire, but it did not last for long. During our period in the trenches if there was very little doing, as was usually the case during the hot weeks, we were in turn sent down to the Depot three miles behind for two days' rest, and it was an absolute and complete rest. One had nothing whatever to do, get up at any time, go to bed at any time, complete relaxation, those two days were a great boon to us. To have absolutely nothing to do was a great luxury and anything out of the ordinary routine was enjoyable. During my spell of leave at the Depot one evening sitting round the Mess table which we had outside on account of the great heat, we were discussing the movements of the Regiment during the past 20 years and when I remarked that I had watched the Regiment embarking at Durban for India 15 years before, the Quartermaster said, "I was there and out of the whole Battalion that embarked that day, there are only two of us left with the Regiment, the Sergeant-Major and myself". I little thought as I watched the 2nd Battalion saying farewell to South Africa that 15 years later I would share in some of its trials on the banks of the Tigris. Sitting in the Headquarters Mess in the evening, as I previously stated, one got all the news, about 8 o'clock the Quartermaster would appear having come up from the Depot in charge of the rations party and to make his report. The mails would be brought up by them too and if the English mail was due and had arrived with letters and papers great was the excitement. Our letters took about six weeks from England to the firing line, but we were allowed to send week-end cables at a very reduced rate, something like 6_d._ a word, and could send them off actually from the trenches on their long journey half across the world. The food, taking everything into consideration, was good, although of necessity it had to greatly consist of tinned and dried varieties and we suffered somewhat from lack of fresh vegetables. Later an improvement in this respect was effected.