FROM LONDON TO AUSTRALIA BY AEROPLANE 



291 



severe gust caught one of the ailerons 

 and snapped the top balance-wires. This 

 allowed all four ailerons to flap about in 

 a very dangerous manner, and it looked 

 as though they would all be wrenched off 

 before we could secure them. 



By weight of arms, however, we 

 eventually managed to secure the ailerons 

 before serious damage was done. At last 

 the machine was turned, facing the wind, 

 and in that position successfully weath- 

 ered the storm. Throughout the rest of 

 the night the guard hung on to the ma- 

 chine and all stood by. 



REPAIRING THE DAMAGE) 



The storm abated by morning. We 

 found that all the aileron control wires 

 were strained or broken. The sand had 

 choked up everything exposed to the 

 weather, and by the time the damage had 

 been repaired and our tanks filled with 

 petrol it was noon. 



For the first time since leaving Ton- 

 don we had promise of a good flying day 

 with a following wind. This good for- 

 tune atoned for our troubles of the night 

 and for our lack of sleep. We were 

 sweeping along at ioo miles an hour, and 

 in less than thirty minutes Bagdad lay 

 below. Glorious old Bagdad ! Bagdad 

 today, faded of all its old glory, is a 

 place of poverty and decay, alluring only 

 through name and association. Yet, in 

 spite of its meanness and squalor, the 

 magic city of Haroun-al-Raschid, the 

 hero of the Arabian Nights, of Aladdin, 

 and Sindbad the Sailor, shall remain im- 

 mortal. 



OVER THE GARDEN OF EDEN 



It is hard to believe that the land above 

 which we were now speeding was once 

 the garden of the world. Oh, where is 

 thy wealth and prosperity, fair Baby- 

 lonia? Despoiled by the ravages of the 

 Ottoman Empire, misruled and wasted 

 by the accursed methods of the Turkish 

 Government, it seems incredible that this 

 void of marsh and waste land was once 

 a country of milk and honey, a land of 

 pomp and luxury that led the civilization 

 of the world. 



From a height, the aspect of Bagdad 

 is more inviting than from the ground. 

 A maze of narrow streets, wandering 

 through a tesselated plan of flat roofs, of 



spires and green splashes of cultivation 

 and date palms, of a great muddy brown 

 river, covered with innumerable little 

 round dots, which on closer investigation 

 resolve themselves into circular, tublike 

 boats — all this is Bagdad, and the impres- 

 sion is pleasing and reminiscent of by- 

 gone glory. 



A LAND OF MEMORIALS 



There is but one thoroughfare that 

 stands preeminent today in Bagdad — a 

 wide road which the Turks had cut 

 through the city to make way for the 

 retreat of their routed army before the 

 victorious British under General Maude; 

 and so now may we see the dawn of a 

 new era and fairer days ahead for this 

 outcast land. 



Every mile of land and river above 

 which we were passing was a measure of 

 history of valorous effort, mighty deeds, 

 and heroism. The map of Mesopotamia 

 unrolled before us. Here lay the old 

 battlefields of Ctesiphon, Laff, Tubal, the 

 trench systems still being clearly ob- 

 servable. 



Kut el Amara, where was enacted the 

 most dramatic and heroic episode of the 

 Mesopotamian campaign, next came into 

 view. For five awful months that little 

 garrison of British men, led and cheered 

 by their beloved general, had held out 

 against the Turk, disease, and the pangs 

 of starvation. The glorious story of the 

 defense of Kut and the surrender is one 

 of those splendid episodes that thrill the 

 heart of every Englishman, and which 

 shall live immortal with the memories of 

 Lucknow, Delhi, Khartoum, Ladysmith, 

 and Mafeking. 



IV. Chasing Poueet Across Persia 

 and India 



In describing Mesopotamia I am in- 

 clined to quote the terse, if ineloquent, 

 account of the British Tommy who wrote 

 of it: "A hell of a place, with two big 

 rivers and miles and miles of dam all be- 

 tween them." Yet the possibilities of 

 development are infinite and the poten- 

 tialities golden — a land of suspended fer- 

 tility, where animation and prosperity 

 lie for the time dormant — a wondrous 

 garden, where centuries of neglect and 

 rapine have reaped desolation and bar- 



