opeman, cousin of Charles. 'J.Y.'--for he never carried any
graver appellation than mere initials--once a rising lawyer in
Vancouver, was now our quartermaster. The gayest and most debonair
figure in the division, known and popular everywhere, he was also an
incredibly efficient quartermaster. Possibly the same qualities make
for success in law and quartermastering. His gaiety was the mask for a
most unsleeping energy and very great ability. He was once dubbed, by a
person more alliterative than observant, 'a frail, flitting figure with
a fly-flap.' Yet he had taken over Brodie's job, at Sannaiyat, when
that experienced 'quarter' had wakened suddenly to find that an
aeroplane bomb had wounded him. Within a year of this event I was
privileged to be present at an argument between our D.A.D.O.S. and our
D.A.D.S. & T.,[8] as to whether Copeman or Jock Reid, of the
Seaforths, was the greater quartermaster. Where two such authorities
failed to come to a decision, I must stand aside, especially as both
J.Y. and Reid are my friends. With his ability J.Y. had an indomitable
resolve, which made him refuse to go sick. He carried on through months
of constant ill-health; sometimes he was borne on one of his own
ration-carts, too unwell to walk or ride. He fed alone, but had a
familiar, in the shape of a ridiculously clever and most selfish cat.
And it is J.Y. whom I remember on this eve of Istabulat--J.Y.
marshalling his carts swiftly and silently up to the wall when darkness
had fallen, and J.Y. next morning scurrying them away before dawn.

A Company went on picket, B and C patrolled before our lines, D lay
behind the wall. Fires were kept low. J.Y. got our blankets up to us,
and we had some sleep.

Next day, the 21st, all kit was packed and on the carts by 4 a.m.
Breakfast was at 3.30; hot tea and a slice of bacon. The second line
fell back. Then we clung to the wall, and waited; all but Fowke. That
warrior moved off to the left with part of B Company, all carrying
spades. Their task was to come out of the shelter of the wall as soon
as the action began, and to work their spades frantically, sending up
such dust-clouds that the bemused Turk might suppose a new Army Corps
advancing to attack his right, and take steps accordingly. The
brown-coated figure took a sombre farewell of me, reminding us that,
though his crowd were going to be cut up by our own cavalry, the rest
of us would be shelled into annihilation when Johnny opened