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-We left the "Wadey" at break of day, We rode far into the night;
Our loads were heavy, our horses poor,
But we pushed them on as we'd done before. And swallowed the dust, and growled and
Till Esani came in sight.
Two days we rested, three days we rode, While the 'planes buzzed overhead. We left Khalassa at dead of night,
And we rode till dawn; then, streaked with
The mountains of Judah came in sight,
Like watchers o'er the dead.
We kept our horses behind the rise, We followed the "Wadey" round.
And sunset found us behind a hill, Our horses tired, but ready still
To gallop again at their riders' will,
And watch for the broken ground.
Three miles of a wind-swept, shell-torn
Where death was sure to lurk!
The shrapnel screamed, the bullets whined, Swift death spat out from the redoubts
And red flame showed where the wells were
By the panic-stricken Turk.
The sun set red as we galloped on, Our ranks thinned here and there,
As one dropped out who would ride no
And a groan, as somebody galloped o'er A foeman, battered and sick and sore,
Surrendering in despair!
Onward we rode till we reached the town. At the end of the three-mile plain.
Empty and burning the old town lay; The foeman, beaten, had slunk away, And left us there at the dawn of day,
To follow, and fight again.
The sun rose high on the saddest scene, The last of the boys "gone West!"
They'd all gone out as the soldier dies We buried them out on a lonely ''rise"
Where the mournful wind from the desert sighs,
We left them there at rest.
Perhaps a cross, or a row of shells, On wind-swept dusty "rise,"
Will mark where a brave man left the race With a willing heart and a smiling face His grave a Bedouin camping-place
But memory never dies!
(Lines written by TROOPER A. BEATTY, Sassa
fras, 4th Light Horse.)