the back of the hand,
and swept from end to end by machine-guns. They sank over the boot-tops
into the sand at every step, they were hampered by their equipment, and the
blazing August sun made their rifles almost too hot to hold.

Painfully the long line struggled on, halted a little while and lay down,
for human endurance has its limits, then went forward again. So,
alternately forcing themselves through the sand, and lying down for very
want of breath, the sweating men came to the foot of the ridge, sadly
decimated in numbers, but unconquerable in their determination to get to
the top.

Now they made a last great effort, and, swearing, sliding, sometimes
sinking up to the knees, sometimes crawling, and all the time swept by a
murderous fire, these wonderful men reached the redoubt and at length got
to grips, only to be thrust back again by the no less determined Turks.

Again they came, a mere handful, and again they were driven back. Now a
second wave reached the slope, and with the shattered remnant of the first
made a great rush, obtained a footing and kept it. It was sheer
hand-to-hand fighting of the fiercest kind; every man marked his man and
went for him with the bayonet.

The Turks gave back thrust for thrust; they yielded no ground, but died
where they stood. Quarter was neither asked nor given. Men fought in little
groups until one or the other was wiped out, when the survivors rushed away
and gave a hand elsewhere. And at last victory was to the strong, and
Wellington Ridge was won--at a price.

Yet although the capture of the ridge turned their position, the Turks
elsewhere retired but slowly, contesting every attempt at an advance with
most bitter determination.

All through these scorching days the battle raged, and even the fine work
of the cavalry failed to break them, for they knew that with every yard
they retreated, their cherished dream of crossing the Canal receded
farther and farther. It was not a question of "reculer pour mieux sauter";
the Turks knew that if they were driven out of a position they left it for
good; wherefore they fought with the courage of despair. They had to go,
however, for nothing human could stand against the inexorable advance of
our men.

But the fighting, bloody and desperate though it was, was not the worst of
the hardships endured by both victor and vanquished; many things pass
unnoticed in the heat of battle. It is afterwards, when the pursuit is
spent, and