Gunboat and Gun-runner: A Tale of the Persian GulfJeans, T. T. (Thomas Tendron)
General
Gunboat and Gun-runner: A Tale of the Persian Gulf
Jeans, T. T. (Thomas Tendron)
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Illegal arms transfers -- Fiction; Persian Gulf -- Fiction
The relief from the awful strain of having that rear-guard so close to
us was too much for Webster or one of his men, because for a moment I
saw the barrel of a rifle appear behind their rocks and almost expected
to hear a cheer. The rifle disappeared as if someone had pulled it down
violently.
By this time the caravan was in a state of the most hopeless confusion,
totally unable to move either upwards or downwards; many camels had
fallen, others were kneeling and refused to move; some were facing one
way, some the other. The frightened camel leaders had given up any
attempt to restore order and were gradually moving up the path as if to
escape themselves, even if they could not bring their camels with them.
Only the upper few zigzags were now in sunlight; the gloom down at the
bottom was increasing very rapidly, and unless the Arabs there had worn
fairly white clothes we should not have been able to see them as they
scrambled among the boulders, to disappear out of sight round that
corner.
I realized now that when the sun sank still lower, and the gloom
increased still more, we should be able to see nothing whatever to fire
at down below. And, too, I had never thought that if they tried to
defend the approach to the gorge they might take up a position round
that corner where our fire could not reach them. They were evidently
doing this, and it upset my scheme still more.
I knew enough of soldiering to know that a small force, well posted
behind rocks, could hold the mouth of that ravine (the crack in the
"coffee-cup") for an almost indefinite time against a very much superior
force. If the _Intrepids_ were actually advancing, and had not brought
Maxims or field-guns, these Arabs, with their "backs to the wall", could
keep them at bay for the three and a half or four remaining hours of
daylight. If so, they might be able during the night to withdraw a
remnant of the caravan, and in the dark our five rifles and six hundred
cartridges would not stop them.
There was only one thing to do. It sounds heroic, but there was no
thought of heroism. Those men still scrambling to the bottom and the
men of the rear-guard must be stopped. We five must open fire on them
and compel them to remount the zigzag to attack us, and therefore
prevent them joining those who had already issued from the "coffee-cup"
to defend it against the _Intrepid’s_ people.
If I could only have been certain of what was actually happening down
there, outside our line of vision, we might have waited; but I did not
know, and it was absolutely necessary to do something, and to do that
something quickly.
We had to take the risk that perhaps after all the _Intrepids_ had not
landed, and that directly we opened fire the whole force of Arabs would
turn back and overwhelm us.
I told Jaffa and Griffiths that we must open fire. Griffiths nodded.
"Just as you like sir; I’m ready."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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