ween the two Highland Regiments. It was the best
tug-of-war that many of us had ever witnessed. The sides had been
carefully picked and well trained. Officers and men cheered on their
respective regiments, the crowd of onlookers swelled till the whole
Brigade was looking on in feverish suspense, and so even were the
sides that for nearly five minutes not an inch of ground was lost or
gained. The cheering ceased and the silence became intense; one could
see the veins standing out on the competitors' foreheads and
perspiration pouring off their faces, each man pulling to the last
ounce, then our coach shouted "come away" and as if by magic they gave
a convulsive pull and gained a foot, the spell was broken, and the
men of our Regiment looking on gave a wild cheer. In a second everyone
was shouting for their side, but slowly, very slowly, inch by inch
they were winning, they would lose a foot and then gain two, till
after one of the sternest pulls in the history of the Regiment, our
opponents crossed the line and we were victors. Both sides sank
exhausted to the ground as their Regiments cheered them to the echo.
Perhaps some daring Turkish flying man heard that brave cheer from his
observation car far above and thought the mad English were practising
some new game to worry his existence. That evening at a concert given
by the Regiment the General made a speech and congratulated the two
teams on the best tug-of war he had ever seen, congratulating them on
their splendid staying powers and for the tenacity and determination
they had displayed, which he remarked augured ill for the Turk in the
coming months. History records how true was his prophesy. Our
Brigadier was General Charles Norie whose gallantry in the field was
well-known, as in some strange way gallantry ever is known, to every
man who served under him. And well loved was Charles Norie. He had
lost an arm fighting on the Indian frontier. There have been many
depressing optimists since August 1914 who every Autumn swear the war
will end next spring, and every spring know it cannot last beyond next
autumn. An answer given by one of our Sergeants was consonant to the
serene spirit and resolution that filled the regiment and bid defiance
to the future. Glancing at the General waving his one arm in the air,
he answered some faint-hearted hopeful, "I'm thinking the war will not
be over till Norie claps his hands." It is in that spirit that the
armies of England win thei