Ardnish Was Home Episode 24

WIt took us three hours to reach the spot from where the final approach was to be made. Not a murmur was heard, just the occasional crack of a twig which made us crouch and freeze for a couple of minutes.

Although we knew where their sentries were, we knew they would have patrols out, too. At one stage, the sergeant signalled for us to take cover, as he heard the murmur of voices. A dozen Turks approached, heading for our lines.

We hugged the ground, with my heart pounding so hard I thought they must hear it. How they didn’t see us, I’ll never know. In the moonlight we could see individual features. We only had an hour before dawn, and half a mile of a very tricky approach still to make.

With nothing but two rifles and three pistols between us, and a water bottle strapped to our belts, we were able to crawl relatively easily through the undergrowth. Nevertheless, in the stillness of the morning, it appeared that we were making a considerable noise.

I prayed that the Turks were drowsy towards the end of their sentry duty. We could see the knoll that we had identified the previous night as the spot for their observation post. With our faces down, we inched up the hill until we were behind the clump of thorn bushes which we intended to hide in.

Getting in wasn’t easy. Our hands and faces were covered with scratches from the thorns by the time we made it. There wasn’t much room in the small copse. We lay, facing out at different angles, to watch out for the enemy. Sandy moved forward to the edge, to a position from where he could take his shot.

Our position seemed excellent: the thick leafy bushes gave tremendous cover from the view of the observation post, as well as shelter from the heat of the midday sun. The 200-yard distance from the hill above the enemy HQ was ideal for Sandy to get his shot off.

There was only one problem, one of which we were all too aware. Effectively, we were on a suicide mission. With the enemy position right beside us, we were going to be sitting targets for their Gatling gun; we knew that its 200 bullets a minute pouring into our bush would spell the end for us. But Colonel Willie had told us of the necessity of getting the colonel.

“If he is dead,” he said, “this could well turn the war in our favour. We have chosen our best men for the job.”and then, to me, as we set off, he said: “Make sure you come back, my piper. I need you.”

Sergeant Mcleod had devised a plan that might give us a chance: the second the shot was fired, the rest of us would make a dash for the observation post with our pistols and bayonets and try to get them before they could see that we were in the bush right in front of them. We would then make our escape down the back of the hill and Sandy would follow as best he could.

Dawn broke to the sound of movement in the camp below us. Fires were lit and coffee brewed. Four Turks came up to relieve those in our neighbouring position, carrying mugs with them. The smell drifted across to us. And so, with much loud discussion and a sharing of a cigarette, the night watch headed back to camp. At least we now knew their numbers.

We lay there as quiet as mice, the sweat pouring off our bodies, careful not to move. Having had a sleepless night, I became drowsy in the heat. We had been in position well before dawn, so I had been unable to move at all for 10 hours. I was worried about getting cramp, and I couldn’t even turn my head to look at Sandy, who was peering down the barrel of his gun.

Stay alert

The first we would know of anything up would be the crack of Sandy’s rifle, and then we would charging at the observation post. I fought to stay awake and alert. My thoughts drifted back to home.

What would Mum be doing now? Was Dad all right with his bad leg? It would be the hind stalking now, he would be limping off with his garron to meet the stalking party. The hay and potatoes would be in for the winter and the peat cut and drying behind the house.

They must be struggling without Sandy and me there; before the war we had done a lot of the heavy work. If I shut my eyes and concentrated really carefully, I could envisage myself there.

I let my mind wander further. Mother would be a bit lonely now with all her family gone. She’d also be the youngest person in Peanmeanach. The school had closed, and there was only a handful of old folk left in the village. She would be knitting; she usually is. I got a letter from about her two weeks ago. They seemed well, but you could sense the worry she had for Angus and myself.

There was another change of shift. The Turks’ observation post now had eight men in it. They stood and smoked and talked, so close we could hear every word. Half of them set off back to their camp. It must be mid afternoon by now; I was getting hungry. Maybe the Colonel wouldn’t come today; perhaps we would still be here tomorrow.

The flies were not too bad now. A month ago, they would have been everywhere. In the summer, in our trenches with the dead bodies around us, when you received your food the top of it was a mass of flies within seconds. As Sandy and I lay there, we couldn’t do anything to brush them off – a flick of a head or wrist might alert the enemy.

Sandy murmured: “I can see him clearly. I’m going to shoot.”

Even with his warning, I still jumped about three feet in the air when the shot was fired, and scrambled to get up.

Sandy fired twice more. I broke through the bush, brandishing my pistol as I rushed for the Turks’ observation post to our right.

I saw a terrified face and caught sight of a rifle being raised. I saw him struggling to wrench the gun round towards us, a flash of steel and then an enormous thump. I had been shot in the shoulder. I spun round and fell. Their machine gun fired a burst, then I heard shouting and several pistol shots.

I could taste blood, and everything went dark. In my subconscious I could hear my mother talking to me: “Come into the house now. Everything will be all right. Come and sit on my lap, try and sleep.”

And then, to me, as we set off, Colonel Willie said: “Make sure you come back, my piper. I need you”