World War, 1914-1918 -- Prisoners and prisons, Turkish
The month was August, still warm, but with autumn and winter ahead of
us. ONE autumn and winter, we thought. We had been captured in
khaki drill, thin stuff only suited for tropical wear. So we were most
agreeably surprised when our ex-editor caterer produced next day a
Nubian person, a deserter of sorts from Egypt, who told us that he would
procure us any clothes we required. Our total resources in actual cash
were very small indeed, but the Nubian explained that our credit was
enormous. Seldom have I felt such affinity to the international
financiers. The lists we compiled were comprehensive and well chosen.
The Nubian was as one taking an order from Rockefeller or Rothschild.
The result was the usual one in Turkey. Nothing of all we had ordered
ever appeared. I forget how many times this farce was repeated. If not
four times it was at least as many as three. At this distance of time I
will not affirm that the lists were identical each time; but at any rate
the result was. So naked as we came into the world of official Stamboul,
thus naked did we depart from it. And perhaps we were lucky to retain
the clothes we had. Other prisoners at different times were robbed of
their uniforms, more frequently of their boots, and among the men, poor
fellows, many had at one time and another to sell their clothes to buy
food. We did, at any rate, get out of that place with all we had brought
in.
On the second day our numbers were doubled, for two officers of the
Worcesters and two from the Australian Division joined us. They had
been captured three days before our own misfortune, but had come the
long way round from Gallipoli by road and rail. I know we looked at them
as the bears in the Zoo might be expected to greet a new companion, but
we soon settled down. About this time a batch of some 150 N.C.O.’s and
men arrived, but we were not allowed to see them for several days. They
were housed in very uncomfortable quarters below the level of the
ground; bad enough, but not so bad as the awful room three naval
officers occupied about a month later.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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