An interesting task fell to my lot, in the reduction to order of the chaos existing at Junction Station. This place had been an important rest camp on the enemy's line of communications. That the Germans thought they had come to stay was manifested by the style in which the station and other buildings had been erected, as well as by the plans which they had left behind them for intended future development. Most of the buildings, including an up-to-date flour mill fitted with modern machinery, had been substantially built with stone. The erection of many additional houses was clearly contemplated, while the work had already been put in hand of planting fruit orchards.

The disgusting state in which these premises were left was indescribable. Rotting carcases of beasts lay all about the place, while other filth almost surpassed them in stench. The buildings were infested with flies by day and mosquitoes by night, while other forms of vermin carried on the good work throughout the whole twenty-four hours.

A large amount of stores had been left behind and had fallen into our hands, consisting mainly of grain, flour, and fodder (tibbin). The enemy had destroyed some of the buildings, smashed up the mill machinery, and set on fire as much of the corn as possible. This fire lasted for days, until at length it burned itself out, for it was useless attempting to salve any portion of the grain composing the bonfire.

Before we had so much as taken possession, swarms of Bedouin came through the premises to loot. Thieving with them is instinctive. They could not understand why they had not a right to help themselves to what the Turks had abandoned. However, a strong guard was posted at once; those Bedouin who had taken up their abode on the premises were evicted; and preparations were made to face a somewhat stormy night. All that night through the crack of rifles resounded. Although the bag next morning proved to be small, yet, for days afterwards, Bedouin kept dropping in at our hospitals with bullet wounds to be dressed, as to the cause of which they could offer no satisfactory explanation. After this the looting fell off considerably. Nevertheless, a certain number of looters, averaging about a dozen a day, were caught and put into the Guard Room. We were glad of their assistance, as there was much filthy cleaning up to be done, so, fools that came to loot, remained to scavenge. Once we had an awkward predicament, for the sergeant of the guard, having confined in the same lock-up some looters, whose detention should be for twenty-four hours, and some prisoners, whose detention should be for the duration of the war, could not subsequently tell them apart.

The enemy left here intact an entire Turkish hospital. It was one of the most picturesque of Eastern sights that anybody could wish to see. Crowded together in one huge ward were men of every shade, in variegated costumes, lying on beds with coverlets rivalling Joseph's coat of many colours. Unfortunately, the hospital was infected, or suspected of infection, with typhus. Therefore, as soon as the patients and staff had been evacuated, it was set on fire, and the whole hospital, woodwork, tents and all that they contained, ascended to heaven in a great column of smoke. Among the contents was a nice new camp bedstead. Pending the decision as to the competent military authority in whose custody this should be placed, I gave orders for it to be transferred to my quarters. But, strangely enough, each senior officer that arrived considered that the competent military authority to take charge of this bedstead was himself. It must have had at least a dozen owners by the time that it ascended in smoke. This hospital also contained one case of sardines. It was wonderful how widely spread became the fame of those sardines. Every British officer in Palestine seems to have licked his lips and looked forward to a meal of sardines when he should pass through Junction Station. Unfortunately, nobody could find those sardines. But a week later, when the rush of officers had gone, it was discovered that they had been appropriated as medical comforts by the R.A.M.C. Now, it so happened, that none of the patients then arriving were on a sardine diet, so other measures had to be taken to ensure that the sardines were not wasted.

As the army went forward, they sent back large numbers of Turkish prisoners of war. These were collected at Junction Station, where a compound was formed. Such as were required for labour were temporarily detained, while the others were marched back under guard to railhead.

During this sojourn, the prisoners were usefully employed in clearing up the messes which had been left behind, particularly in burying carcases. At one place we found half-a-dozen dead buffaloes lying half submerged. Before they could be got at and cleared away it was necessary to drain off the water. A party of the prisoners were detailed for this task; a few hours later they were found seriously trying to drain this water away up-hill. Among the prisoners were a few officers. In default of other suitable accommodation, one of them was allowed to live in a room at the Commandant's house. He displayed great anxiety lest somebody should touch the disused telephone or other wires, fire a booby trap possibly left behind by his kind friends, and so blow him to eternity.

There was not much time to spare for contemplation. Nevertheless, in this, the Vale of Sorek, I often thought of Samson and Delilah, and "Mon coeur s'ouvre À ton voix"; or, pictured the Ark of the Covenant wend its way past my very door, on a cart drawn by two milch kine, on that wonderful journey from Ekron to Beth-Shemesh.

There was plenty of work to be done, in reducing chaos to order, in protecting much valuable property, in meeting the requirements of thousands of passing troops, and in spreading, as it were, the spawn for this mushroom town. It had been an important place under Turkish administration. It promised, under the British rÉgime, to become the most important railway centre in Palestine. Consequently, schemes of water supply, sanitation, and town planning had to be evolved and installed immediately, hospitals opened in the most appropriate buildings, spaces set apart for camping grounds for all classes of troops and animals, huge dumps and supply dumps respectively, railway sidings laid down and cemeteries opened both for Christians and for Mahomedans, while roads had to be improved and sign-boards set up in all directions.

Many and diverse were the arrivals and departures in the course of one busy week. Foremost came the fighting troops of the 21st Corps, the 75th and 54th Divisions, followed later by those of the 20th Corps, the 60th and 74th Divisions. With them arrived field ambulances, which took possession of the best of the buildings and converted them into hospitals. Companies of Royal Engineers arrived, and travelling workshops staffs of the Ordnance Department, and both of these lost no time in opening their workshops. Enormous supply dumps were formed and camel convoys, miles long, arrived with supplies. The camels were specially inconsiderate, and would select awkward spots, like cross-roads, at which to lie down and die. They were welcome to die, if only they could and would have first made adequate arrangements for their own obsequies. A battalion of British West Indians that arrived, aroused both sympathy and amusement. They had marched through torrential rain and arrived soaked to the skin. In spite of a warning as to what they might expect, they rushed for shelter into some of the buildings which had not yet been disinfected; but their exit was even faster than their entrance, and they preferred the wet and cheerless exterior to being eaten alive within. Scarcely a day's march behind the fighting troops, arrived a thousand or more of the Egyptian Labour Corps. These were immediately set to work on the roads, and such good work did they do that the roads were soon in an excellent condition for mechanical transport. Full of irony was the arrival of several guards and a staff of military police en route for Jerusalem. It was believed, at this time, that the fall of Jerusalem was imminent. That Britain's fair name might not be sullied by any foolish misbehaviour, or any still more foolish collection of souvenirs, it was decided that guards should at once be mounted upon the Holy Places in Jerusalem. These guards, Christian and Moslem, collected at Junction Station, ready to march straight into the city; but, when its fall was postponed sine die, they had sadly but surely to return to their own regiments. The intention had been to surround Jerusalem with a cordon of British sentries; an order, accordingly, was published that any British soldier found within 5 miles of Jerusalem would be liable to be shot. Our unfortunate British soldiers fighting on Neby Samwil, which was within the prescribed distance, readily endorsed that sentiment, though scarcely in the sense implied by the authorities.

Of all activities at this time of industry, none were greater than those of the railway development companies of the Royal Engineers. The Turkish line had been destroyed in several places and the rolling stock much damaged. Nevertheless, repairs were put in hand immediately, leaky engines were made water-tight, damaged trucks and coaches were made fit to travel, and, within a very short space of time, there was a train running each way between Junction Station and Deir Sineid. As being the services of primary importance, the first trains were confined to the bringing up of ammunition and the taking down of wounded. The captured rolling stock was limited, and so the number of trains was painfully restricted. Fortunately, this narrow gauge line was of similar gauge to certain light railways in Egypt, and rolling stock from those lines was brought up with all convenient speed. Moreover, two quite new engines, said to have been originally destined for this line but captured at sea during the early days of the war, were hurried up and put into commission. New constructional work was also put in hand at once, including an embankment for continuing the line northwards across the bed of the Wadi Surar (Sorek), the original steel girder bridge having unfortunately been destroyed. The fate of the bridges here was similarly unfortunate. The railway bridge, which should have been blown up before, so as to prevent the escape of the Turkish trains, was only destroyed after they had got away; and so the destruction of this bridge proved of great hindrance to us, but caused no inconvenience whatever to the enemy. The other bridge across the wadi was a timber bridge, which carried the road. As this bridge was insecure and required strengthening, a party of military police were posted upon it to stop all traffic from crossing it through the night. Seized with a brain wave, they lit a fire upon the centre of the bridge. This expedient proved so successful, that it not only stopped the traffic for that night, but for all time. When morning came, it was discovered that they had burnt away the bridge itself, and a new bridge had to be constructed.

An armoured train was improvised from such trucks as were available, the sides being sandbagged and a Lewis gun mounted in front. With this, the railway line was patrolled towards Jerusalem for some miles, until destroyed bridges made further progress impossible. The result of this reconnaissance showed that trains could run for some distance along this line, and ammunition trains were pushed forward accordingly.

When I left Junction Station to rejoin the fighting troops, it was well on the high road to importance and fame. This, however, never matured. It was to the policy of railway construction that this place owed its primary existence; it was to an extension of that policy that it looked for its future development; it was through a change in that policy that its glory soon afterwards departed.

The original intention had been to adapt to our use the Turkish railway system, merely broadening the gauge. In that case, our own broad gauge line from Kantara, which, immediately on the fall of Gaza, had been brought through to Deir Sineid, would have been continued along the route of the Turkish line from Deir Sineid to Junction Station. The first months of working this Turkish line, still in its narrow gauge condition as captured, did not afford a promising outlook. These were months of torrential and persistent rain. The country became a quagmire. Landslips along the permanent way, and the washing away of culverts, became of such frequent occurrence, that it was decided to abandon this portion of this line altogether. Committed, therefore, to no predetermined route, the engineers were left with the whole country open to them to choose a course for their new trunk railway to the north. They chose a line much nearer the coast, and approximately followed the border line between the fertile plain and the sand dunes from Deir Sineid as far north as Yebna, thence bearing north-east towards Ramleh and Ludd. This had the effect of making the future railhead at Ludd.

Situate at the cross-roads where the Valley of Ajalon debouches upon the Plain, and the ancient route from Jerusalem to Jaffa crosses the yet more ancient route from Egypt and Gaza to Acre and Damascus, the neighbourhood of Ramleh and Ludd has for many centuries been the site of an important town. In Biblical days it was Ludd; in Crusading days it was Ramleh. The towns are but a couple of miles apart. And so it came about that now, once again, this spot became the great traffic junction of Palestine.

As time passed on, and as, through the spring and summer of 1918, we held a line across Palestine to the north of and covering Jerusalem and Jaffa, railway development proceeded apace, being focussed on Ludd. In spite of the difficulties of railway engineering in the mountains, the broad gauge line was carried from Ludd through Junction Station right up to Jerusalem. Well-constructed narrow gauge lines were laid down between Ludd and Jaffa, and between railhead and various distributing centres close behind the front line. The line from Junction Station to Beersheba was changed from narrow to broad gauge and extended to Rafa. Thereafter the line was double from Kantara to Rafa. From Rafa, one single line went forward, by Belah, Gaza and Yebna, to Ludd, while another single line went forward to Ludd by way of Beersheba and Junction Station. The advantages of a double line system north of Rafa were thus secured at times of pressure by working the full freight trains forward to Ludd vi Gaza and Yebna, and working the trains of returned empties back again by way of Beersheba.

Ludd developed apace. Soon were seen all the evidences and activities of a great advanced base and distributing centre. Huge ordnance and supply dumps arose, workshops and depots were to be seen on all sides, a great bakery was installed and even a mineral-water factory. The importance of Ludd far eclipsed the quondam glory of Belah, and came nearer to rivalling that of Kantara.

To an Englishman, the chief interest of Ludd lies in its being the place of martyrdom and burial of St. George. Was it not appropriate that the victorious British armies in Palestine should have been provided and fed from beside the very tomb of their own Patron Saint?

CHAPTER XIII