“My squadron (‘A’) went into action very weak from previous casualties, and we went in sixty-six strong and came out thirty-three. Fourteen officers of the Regiment were knocked out and five killed. Newton and I scraped out of it safely. “We had a good many shows besides this one, but none so good. It is something to be the only Regiment to have charged as a Regiment, and it did jolly well. We were the first Cavalry Regiment to enter Baghdad. We have lost our Colonel and also the second in command, Twist; the senior squadron leader was killed--such a nice fellow, Eve, shot through his head. I was the first to find his body, and took his things off him. It was very sad.”[36] _Colour-Sergeant F. Spanton, “B” Squadron._--“After a few minutes we were galloping towards the enemy with drawn swords, at a fair pace. We were well received by the Turks, who blazed away at us as hard as they could, and when we got close some of their shots took effect, and one or two spare horses were galloping about. After we had crossed the first trench my horse was apparently hit and pitched over, causing me to be thrown. I landed between the lines of Turks, and remained quiet, waiting to see what would happen next. The Turks now had turned about, and were firing over me into the rear of the squadrons. The Regiment changed direction to the right, and passed out of my view; the Turks got out of the trenches and continued to send a hail of bullets after the disappearing squadrons. I watched this as I lay on the ground, weighing my chances of rejoining the Regiment. The Turks in front of me were now retiring, and moving to the left of the trench, and I thought if I remained quiet they would all probably pass me by unnoticed, and then I could get back to my squadron again. But no such luck: as the tail-end of the Turks passed by, one fellow stopped when he saw me, and raising his rifle to his shoulder he fired point-blank--but missed--the bullet not coming so near as the one that had cut the belt of my haversack in half a few minutes before. This man, evidently disgusted with his bad shooting, walked hurriedly away, so once again I thought my chances of getting back were good; but a group of three men coming along a little later came to see who I was, and lugged me off to a dug-out. I had hurt my knee rather badly when I was thrown, and couldn’t get along over fast; this annoyed the Turks, as we were still under a heavy fire from the British machine-guns, so they jabbed me in the back with the butt of a rifle as a signal to hurry.... Sergeant Gilbert was brought up to where I was, and duly deprived of his possessions. After a few minutes Lieutenant Pennington[37] was brought in. He was holding his wrist: he had been badly hit in the forearm, the bone being broken. I tied him up with my field-dressing, and made a plug for him until we could find a dressing station. In the meantime, Private Morrison had been brought