Enemies more insidious than the Turk, and regarded with far greater detestation, had appeared during the past two months. The ravages of sickness had reduced the fighting strength of the Division more than had the bullets of the enemy. Dysentery and jaundice were rampant, and an epidemic of septic sores ran through the Division. The seasoned veterans fared better than the new reinforcements, who succumbed at an appalling rate. There had been no break in the hot, dry weather. Many of the wells had gradually become defiled, others had run dry, and this no doubt contributed greatly to the amount of sickness. The insanitary conditions inseparable from the type of warfare waged in so confined and exposed a space, the continuous strain exacted from all, the lack of sleep, the tropical heat, the monotonous and unsuitable food, the lice, and, above all, the plague of flies, with which no sanitary measures and precautions could cope, all were in their degree responsible for the deplorable results. The country was one huge grave-yard in which hundreds of corpses of friends and foes lay unburied, and the air was heavy with the stench. Flies clustered in noisome masses on everything that attracted them, on the food and in the mess-tins as these were carried to one’s mouth, on sores, on faces and hands—blue and green monsters too lazy to fly or crawl away, and to kill fifty was but to invite five thousand to attend the funeral. Under such conditions men lived and moved, and even kept a stout heart. Weak and emaciated, they crawled about the trenches, but when work or fighting was to be done they never shirked, and did not give in until compelled to do so. They had by now absorbed some measure of the philosophy of the East, and, borrowing a phrase from the enemy when things seemed at their worst, they encouraged one another with the remark: “Never mind; there’s always to-morrow.” In these days the small “band of brothers” who had come safely through the fighting were drawn closely together, and the rest of the world seemed very remote. The personal inspiration of certain officers and men counted for much, and the memory of the example of zeal and energy and good courage when the prospect was most dreary, set by officers of the Indian Army, in temporary command of units that had lost their senior officers, is gratefully preserved by those who survived. Many officers who left England with the Division gained in no ordinary degree the admiration and affection of their comrades, but the name of Philip Vernon Holberton stands out pre-eminently. His repeated acts of gallantry, his constant thought for others and entire disregard of self, his genial presence and cheery words of encouragement when these were most needed, stimulated weary comrades to carry on hopefully, and made him an inspiration to officers and men alike.[5]