Very few people succeeded in getting out of the barracks, but two or three officers, duly escorted, managed to get a gharry, and drove straight to the American consul, who arranged to give them money, and did everything he could for them. He said he expected to see many of us, and went on to tell them exactly what he thought of the campaign up to date. He was very pessimistic over the future treatment of the British troops, and declared that had we known what would happen to them we would have cut our way out of Kut at whatever cost. We hoped this was exaggeration, and that things would not turn out as badly as he expected; but events proved only too truly how entirely his fears were justified. Hopelessly inadequate rations, no transport, no medical arrangements for the sick who fell out, and utter incapability of all Turkish authorities, constitute one of the blackest crimes committed during any war.
It is only right to add that whenever we met German officers they did all they could to help us, more than one saying they considered that we and they were civilized people in a land of barbarians.
Two days after reaching Bagdad we were paraded in the hot sun in the afternoon and marched off to the station, passing over the bridge of boats and through the Shia quarter of the city, which lies on the right bank of the river. We were all only too glad to get away from the insanitary conditions which are inseparable from all Turkish buildings.
After a wait of two hours at the station, we were packed into a train which started about six o'clock. A few miles north of Bagdad we passed the Great Mosque at Kazmain, its golden domes and minarets shining in the setting sun. The train proceeded at a good rate; everything in connection with the railway was naturally German, and of a substantial description. The length of line then completed to the railhead at Samaria was 80 miles, passing through slightly undulating country the whole way. This had been finished by the Germans before the war broke out.
Most of us were weary, and many preferred lying on the floor of the corridors or vestibules at the end of the cars, to sitting straight up in the cramped compartments. We made several halts, and it was near midnight when we arrived. Our guards, a few gendarmes, seemed to have no idea where we were going, or what was to be done with us. Eventually we were told to leave our kit, which was to be brought along later, and were guided down towards the river. After walking a mile, we found ourselves in a small Arab village on the river bank, and were conducted into a courtyard some 40 yards square, where we were told we were to stay. There was a rough shelter round three sides, formed by brushwood supported on a rough wooden framework; this promised a certain amount of shade, and we were all glad to be in the open air rather than in another barrack building. There were no signs of any transport fetching our kit, so the most enterprising managed to procure two trollies, and trundled them up to the station along a narrow-gauge line. The Turks used this line for taking stores, ammunition, etc., to the railway, from the rafts on which they were floated down from Mosul. By dawn, nearly all the kit had been collected, and we had settled down as best we could.