Gallipoli?

One amusing experience of this period was to bathe in the Canal while
the transports were passing with newly trained drafts for Mesopotamia or
India. "Who are you?" was the invariable cry from the banks. Our
war-worn men received usually the answering taunt: "Garrison duty only!
When are you going to do your bit?" To the call: "Who are you?" from a
transport, a witty diver replied: "A submarine."

The whole Canal zone from Port Said to Suez was in reality a hive of
workers. A visit to the School and Headquarters of the Royal Flying
Corps threw a flood of light on that brilliant service. Its observers
commanded every track and camping ground of the Sinai desert.

While the Canal was being girdled by defence works the Manchester
Territorial Brigade was regaining the physical vitality lost in Turkey.
Apart from sandstorms, the climate was good. Sports, football, concerts,
buried-treasure hunts, competitions "for the singing championship of
Asia" and other sounding honours, and much bathing helped us to recover
health and joy. Our numbers remained much below strength. Perhaps 130 of
the original unit remained, with some 250 who had come to Turkey in
drafts. To these hardly 100 were added at this period.

Such officers and men, however, as did reach us from the two reserve
units at home were of the best. They lost temporary rank on re-posting,
and knew that weaker vessels had succeeded to their place on English
camping grounds. Those who came from another battalion had been
specially fortunate in their training, and in having the inspiring
influence in their midst of Captain J.H. Thorpe, but all alike were
keen. Their anxiety to learn was palpable whenever we went the round of
the chilly desert outposts under the starry sky.

Battalion patriotism was kindled anew by the adoption as a flash of the
old Lincoln green fleur-de-lis of the Manchesters, a cap badge worn by
us since 1889, and a relic of the conquest of Guadaloupe by the 63rd
Regiment in 1759. No less inspiring was the revival of the _Sentry_ on
the 1st March 1917. Of its staff of fifteen when published at Khartum,
nine had died on Gallipoli. Their places were filled by new enthusiasts,
and one genuine poet was discovered in T.G. King.

Our one lasting loss while at Shallufa was the departure of nearly all
the time-expired Territorials to England. Those under forty-one years of
age were retaken later by the Government under its new powers of
conscri