This map shows the route Dunsterville took in retreating back across the mountains between modern-day Iraq and Iran.
Click to view a larger version.
Rained all night and sleet, and the roofs leaked and it was not very comfortable and not very good for my beastly cold. I meant to start at 6.30 a.m., but thought it better to give the men a hot meal and start later, so we got off at 8 a.m. It took us 4 hours and a half to do the 4 miles to the top of the [Paitak] pass, pushing the cars up. At the top it snowed – I halted there to let the columns close up and left at 1.15 p.m., no sooner started than down came another heavy snow-storm and the cars got stuck every 100 yards – so I gave up the venture and put in for the night in the old ruined caravanserai of Surkhadise Khan, a Cecil Hotel to us, but really more like a pig-sty.
This is an apology for the recent lack of entries, but I’ve had trouble logging in. I’m back! I shall be posting all the entries to bring Major General Dunsterville’s war diaries back up to date over the next couple of days.
Thank you for your patience!
This is an incredibly powerful poem written by Henry Chappell, a railway porter at Bath. In this you can sense the fears and anger of the nation. It was published in the Daily Express in August 1914 and was an immediate hit. The monies Mr Chappell received from the poem were donated to the British Red Cross. Apparently the Kaiser himself read it, and was understandably none too pleased.