The outstanding and exceedingly well documented Great War Defence of the Suez Canal February 1915 and Gallipoli Battle of Gully Ravine June 1915 Medical Officers 1934 New Years Honours Order of the Indian Empire and Order of Saint John group awarded to Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, C.I.E., M.B., LL.D., Indian Medical Service, who became the Director and Professor of the Public Health Administration to Bengal and was ultimately the Medical Superintendent at the Royal Infirmary at Edinburgh throughout the Second World War period. It was whilst he was a Captain and Medical Officer to the 2nd Battalion, 10th Princess Mary’s Own Gurkha Rifles that he composed the unpublished accounts of the Turkish Raid on the Suez Canal in February 1915 that marked the beginning of the Sinai and Palestine campaign and the Gallipoli campaign and specifically the Battle of Gully Ravine that lasted from 28 June to 5 July 1915. Both are outstanding in their detail. A glimpse into his personal account of the Battle of Gully Ravine details an incident with a Turkish sniper and reads: “I got word to me that Atkinson had been hit and I went off to find him. On the way I found a wounded boy of ours. He told us that he had been hit by a bomb which somebody had thrown from behind our trench, between us and the sea, and that somebody from behind too had shot the adjutant sahib. I passed word down to the stretcher bearers to come up for this case and went on to look for Atkinson. It had never occurred to me that he might be dead, but a few yards further on I came on a huddled figure, whose easeful position betokened only death. I straightened him out and looked. He must have died at once, thank God, and he had been shot from behind. I got up and looked over the back of the trench towards the sea, and I shall never forget what I saw there. There were some bushes about 10 yards away and the moon behind lit everything up. Between two of the bushes there was a face - devilishly malevolent it seemed to me in the ghastly moonlight - and there was a hand too and that hand was toying with something in its grasp. I stood petrified for an instant, and shouted to the men in the trench who were looking out in front in the other direction, to scatter, and the face and hand disappeared. I went along to Higgin and he sent out some scouts over the ground, but they could find no one. We got the man later, and he paid his penalty…”
Group of 7: The Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire, Companion, C.I.E., neck badge, gold and enamels, with full length of neck ribbon, housed in its fitted presentation case by Garrard & Co ‘to His Majesty the King’; The Most Venerable Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, Officer Brother breast badge in silver (1926-1936 issue); 1914-1915 Star; (CAPT. A.D. STEWART, I.M.S.); British War Medal and Victory Medal; (CAPT. A.D. STEWART); Delhi Durbar Medal 1911 in Silver; Jubilee Medal 1935. Last six mounted court style as worn.
Condition: the first with near excellent enamel work, overall Good Very Fine.
Together with the following:
1) A highly significant and unpublished account of the Turkish Raid on the Suez Canal in February 1915 that marked the beginning of the Sinai and Palestine campaign, written in typed letter form over 13 pages, with some hand drawn sketches that map the positions, and covering the 2nd through 7th February. As compiled by Captain A.D. Stewart, Indian Medical Service, who was medical officer to the 2nd Battalion, 10th Gurkha Rifles, which unit formed part of the 22nd (Lucknow) Brigade.
2) A highly significant and unpublished account of the Gallipoli campaign and specifically the Battle of Gully Ravine that lasted from 28 June to 5 July 1915. Written on 2 July 1915 in typed letter form over 8 pages, it covers the five days preceding the date of compilation. It would appear that at least one page is missing from the end. As compiled by Captain A.D. Stewart, Indian Medical Service, who was medical officer to the 2nd Battalion, 10th Gurkha Rifles, which unit formed part of the 29th Indian Brigade.
A rare to survive letter / testimonial / recommendation for the award of the Companion of The Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire, as issued by His Excellency the Governor of Bengal, and in many ways giving reason for the award. This is the first example of this type of document we have seen.
Statutes Booklet for The Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire as of 1927. This with the forwarding envelope addressed to: ‘Lt. Col. A.D. Stewart, C.I.E., at Broughty Ferry, Angus. In this he kept the various Testimonials detailed below.
Recipient’s Great War period aluminium dog tag, this engraved: ‘CAPT A.D. STEWART I.M.S. 2/10 G.R.’
King’s Crown Indian Medical Service Pugri Badge.
Letter to Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, as issued by the Medical Adviser to the Secretary of State for India, and President, Medical Board, India Office, on Stewart’s early retirement, dated 18 March 1935.
India Office Testimonial for the service of Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, as issued by the Medical Adviser to the Secretary of State for India, and President, Medical Board, India Office.’ Dated 18 March 1935.
Letter of Testimonial for the service of Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, as issued by the Director-General of the Indian Medical Service, dated 27 March 1935.
Letter of Testimonial for the service of Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, as issued by the Director of the All India Institute of Hygiene and Public Health, dated 27 March 1935. Attached to this is a full Resume of his service, and a further example of the recommendation / citation for the C.I.E.
Letter of Testimonial for the service of Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, as issued by the Minister for the Government of Bengal. Dated 11 April 1935. A covering letter for the same Testimonial, as issued to Stewart by the Minister for the Government of Bengal. Dated 11 April 1935.
Letter of Testimonial for the service of Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, as issued by the Surgeon-General of Bengal, Major General D.P. Coil, K.H.P., I.M.S. Dated 16 April 1935.
Copy of a Letter of Testimonial for the service of Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, as issued by John Anderson, the Governor of Bengal, and sent directly to the Director of the Board of Management for the Royal Infirmary at Edinburgh in Scotland, to which Stewart had applied for a position as the Medical Superintendent. Dated 16 April 1935.
A four page hand written Letter of Testimonial for the service of Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, written over four pages on the personal paper of the Hotel Beau-Site at Cannes in France, as compiled by Major General Sir James Graham, C.B., C.I.E., Indian Medical Service (Retired). Dated 18 April 1935.
A handwritten letter of support of Stewart’s application for the position of Medical Superintendent at the Royal Infirmary at Edinburgh, written by an unidentified officer. Dated 27 April 1935.
Cutting from the British Medical Journal of 6 September 1969, this being his obituary. Other newspaper cuttings giving his obituary.
5 x photographs of Stewart, one being a group photograph taken in Calcutta, one with his two sons who were then on service during the Second World War, and another being a superb studio photograph of Stewart when a junior officer in the Indian Medical Service, as taken by the photographic studio, Milne & Son of Blairgowrie.
Alexander Dron Stewart was born on 22 June 1883 in Blairgowrie, Scotland, and having opted for a career in medicine, he studied at Edinburgh University and gained first class honours in 1906 as an M.B. and Ch.B. Stewart was then commissioned as a Lieutenant into the Indian Medical Service on 1 September 1906, having gained second place for the entrance. During a period of study leave he gained he was appointed to a Fellowship of the Royal Colleges of Surgeons at Edinburgh in 1913, and further gained his Diploma in Tropical Medicine and Hygiene.
During 1913 to 1914 he was appointed Medical Officer of Health at Simla, but owing to the Great War, then found himself on active service as a Captain and Medical Officer to the 2nd Battalion, 10th Princess Mary’s Own Gurkha Rifles, a unit of the 22nd (Lucknow) Brigade, being posted to Egypt where it was sent into manning the defences on the Suez Canal. This provided the basis for one of two unpublished accounts that Stewart provided relating to his war service, when he detailed his experiences between 2nd and 7th February, of the Turkish Raid on the Suez Canal in February 1915 that marked the beginning of the Sinai and Palestine campaign.
The Raid on the Suez Canal, also known as Actions on the Suez Canal, took place between 26 January and 4 February 1915 when a German-led Ottoman Army force advanced from Southern Palestine to attack the British Empire-protected Suez Canal, marking the beginning of the Sinai and Palestine campaign. Substantial Ottoman forces crossed the Sinai Peninsula and a few managed to cross the Canal, but the overall attack failed because of strongly held British defences manned by alert defenders. The 100 miles long canal had a railway running along its whole length and was supplied with water from the west, as only brackish wells could be found to the east. The length of the canal included about 29 miles of the Great and Little Bitter Lakes and Lake Timsah. which divided the three sectors organised for the defence. Sector I covered Suez to the Bitter Lakes, Sector II covered Deversoir to El Ferdan, and Sector III covered El Ferdan to Port Said.
The 22nd (Lucknow) Brigade, which comprised the 62nd and 92nd Punjabis in addition to the 2/10th Gurkha Rifles, manned defences in Sector II, the Headquarters were at Ismailia Old Camp. Along with other troops in Sector II, they found themselves deployed at the Deversoir, Serapeum East, Serapeum West, Tussum, Gebel Mariam, Ismailia Ferry and Ismailia Old Camp posts. From 31 January the British defenders expected an attack and by 1 February at least 2,500 infantry attackers were 6 miles east of Serapeum with two guns, another force of 8,000 was at Moiya Harab 30 miles to the south east and a third force of 3,000 was at Bir el Mahadat 10 miles east north east of El Ferdan. In the rear of these forces were "considerable forces" at Bir el Abd 40 miles from the Canal, at El Arish and at Nekhl.
The Ottoman Expeditionary Force, moving only at night, believed that it had been unnoticed, as scouts had observed British officers playing football when Ottoman forces had already established themselves in a camp 25 kilometres east of the Suez Canal. Kress von Kressenstein's Suez Expeditionary Force arrived at the Canal on 2 February 1915 and the Ottomans succeeded in crossing the Suez Canal about Ismailia on the morning of 3 February 1915. By 2 February slight forward movements of the attacking force made it clear the main attack would be on the central sector, to the north or south of Lake Timsah and the armoured train with four platoons of New Zealand infantry and two platoons reinforced the 5th Gurkhas post on the east bank. The 22nd (Lucknow) Brigade from Sector II, the 2nd Queen Victoria's Own Rajput Light Infantry, and two platoons of the 128th Pioneers from general reserve at Moascar, along with artillery, engineers and a field ambulance were in position between the Great Bitter Lake and Lake Timsah.
The fighting began in earnest on 3 February, when Stewart received his baptism of fire. As Stewart recorded: “Today has indeed been a day of days for me.. today I have seen bullets dropping all around, have heard the whistle of shells from the enemy’s guns, have seen the shrapnel burst overhead and plough up the water and sand in great spits, have seen sad burdens of wounded and dead men, heard moans from men in desperate pain, and seen the scared smile with which men in a new common danger comfort and cheer each other. And through all was a feeling of exaltation and excitement - that here the greatest game of all was being played, and the great hope that we and our men would do well and play the game.”
Squads of men were seen by the light of the moon at about 04:20 on 3 February moving pontoons and rafts towards the Suez Canal. They were fired on by an Egyptian battery, and the 62nd Punjabis along with the 128th Pioneers at Post No. 5 stopped most attempts to get their craft into the water. A further attempt along a stretch of 1.5 miles to get pontoons and rafts to the canal was made slightly to the north of the first attempt. Three pontoons loaded with troops crossed the canal under cover of machine gun and rifle fire from the sand dunes on the eastern bank. As they landed on the western bank of the canal all three boat loads of soldiers were attacked and killed, wounded, or captured. As dawn lit the area, the failure of the attempt to cross the canal was complete.
At dawn, the Tussum Post was attacked supported by artillery shelling the British positions, the warships in the Canal, and the merchant shipping moored in Lake Timsah. The Hardinge and Requin opened fire on groups of infantry in the desert and an Ottoman trench 200 yards south of Tussum Post was caught by enfilade fire from machine guns. A group of about 350 Ottoman soldiers, which occupied British day trenches located to the east and south of the post, was counterattacked during the day by the 92nd Punjabis. About 15:30 the trenches were recaptured with 287 casualties or prisoners. At 06:00 a second attack was launched, this time by diversions north of the crossing point. The attack was checked by the defending British troops and the gunnery of the British and French ships in the canal. By 3 a.m. the Ottomans' attack had petered out and failed and a full withdrawal was effected. The thirsty Ottoman troops retreated to Beersheba, free from molestation by British forces. 600 Ottoman soldiers made it to the other side of the canal, but were taken prisoner.
By 06:30 the commander of the 22nd (Lucknow) Brigade ordered a counterattack which began to push Ottoman soldiers of the 73rd and 75th Regiments (25th Division) out of trenches and sandhills south of Tussum Post. Two companies of the 2/10th Gurkhas with machine guns moved from Deversoir to Serapeum to join six platoons of the 2nd Queen Victoria's Own Rajput Light Infantry where they crossed the canal by ferry. Two platoons of the 2nd Queen Victoria's Own Rajput Light Infantry with two platoons of the 92nd Punjabis from the post on their right began to advance up the east bank towards Tussum. This attack caused the Ottoman soldiers to break and run from hummocks and sandhills before a considerable force consisting of the 74th Regiment (25th Division) with the 28th Regiment (10th Division) following, was seen 3 miles to the north east supported two batteries. Strongly counterattacked, the two platoons of the 2nd Queen Victoria's Own Rajput Light Infantry and two platoons of the 92nd Punjabis were halted, losing their commanding officer. However, they were reinforced by the six platoons of the 2/10th Gurkhas, and together with fire from the Requin, D'Entrecasteaux, the armed tug Mansourah and Tug Boat 043 the latter two armed with light guns, they brought the Ottoman attack to a standstill about 1,200 yards from the British front line. Subsequently, all the pontoons which could have been used again during the coming night were destroyed by firing two rounds from a torpedo boat's 3-pdr gun into each pontoon, while two pontoons that had been missed were holed by gun cotton charges.
At the beginning of this action Stewart was in a small post, detailed as ‘D’ in his sketch and journal, this being the southernmost of three on a stretch of the Canal between two of the lakes. As the 22nd (Lucknow) Brigade’s counterattack developed, Stewart found himself crossing the Canal. He recalled: “As we were crossing the Ferry the enemy’s artillery began to get the range of the Canal… Four shells in rapid succession burst over the Canal as we were crossing and their bullets spat up the earth on the West bank and swept the water… We got across, and the regiment began to move Northwards up the Canal bank near to the water. A machine gun section of one of the Punjabi regiments was moving upwards near the Canal when a shrapnel burst above it and sent a hail of bullets across it. Three mules were knock over into the Canal and two men wounded. When I got over to the other side I found about 8 men wounded - and nobody to look after them - the Field Hospital were away up towards… where the fighting had started in the early morning. I felt it my duty to get these men over to the West bank, where Smith I.M.S. was in the Hospital buildings. One poor man was just dying: I shan’t try to harrow your feelings by describing their wounds - some were bad and some were not. I got them down to the pontoon and across to the other side and up to the Hospital, where I handed them over to Smith.”
Stewart then recrossed the Canal in close proximity to the enemy fire, and then brought back more wounded men across the pontoon. He then crossed the Canal for a third time, once again in close proximity to the enemy shrapnel shell fire. “Just after I got across I got a chit from the Colonel to the Quartermaster asking for ammunition. I couldn’t see Merritt anywhere, so I did Quartermaster for the time being, and loaded up some mules with boxes, and sent them off… An urgent note came for Merritt again asking for ammunition to be sent to Weeks’ double company, so I packed it off and went off to deliver it… As we were going along (the ammunition mules and myself to Weeks) i met four men of the — Rajputs carrying an officer - his shirt was pulled over his head. Do you know the picture in the Tate gallery of the death of Chatterton - he is lying in front of a window in the early morning - the colour of the skin of the dead poet is wonderfully done - a bluish grey. When I saw the bare chest of the officer the four men were carrying I knew by the colour he was dead. They told me he was and that they were carrying him back - he had been shot through the head. I still didn’t know where Weekes was, so I crawled up to the top of the bank to scout. I saw Weekes and his company lying about 500 yards off from the crest of a ridge firing for all they were worth. I managed to get up to him by short runs lying flat in the intervals - my orderly with me. There was plenty of bullets flying about but they were all high, so there wasn’t much to fear really. I got up to Weekes and found that he didn’t need any ammunition, so I stayed with him for a bit. We could see where the enemy were - about 900 yards ahead of us in a diagonal line to the Canal. Weekes asked me to look at his hat - a slouch felt -: it had once bullet mark through the front brim and a long tear of another along the brim at the side. This had happened just before I had come up. He saw a Turk get up and deliberately shoot a couple of rounds at him - evidently a sharpshooter told off to pick off officers if he could. Arundel, of the — Rajputs, whom I had seen carried in, had been shot a little farther down the ridge - probably by the same man…”
Stewart then took more wounded back across the Canal along with the body of the dead officer, the pontoon being hit by stray bullets during the crossing. ‘There was a steam launch at the side of the Canal, so I dug out the Arab who was in charge - away down in the hold somewhere - and we got it across to the East bank. A double company of ours and some Rajputs were waiting, so we got them all across to the West bank, and lined up to cover Weekes’ retiral: - he got back safely, and not a single man was hit during his coming back. It was not becoming dark and the enemy were evidently ceasing their efforts, though their infantry was still firing. The big guns of the warships was a pleasant sound, for we knew that they must outrange the enemy’s. So we all got back safely to the West bank - our casualties 4 men hit - two of them rather seriously. We then marched back to D, having done our little bit satisfactorily…’
On the 4th February, “during the night we were all jumpy - we didn’t know to position of affairs. All through the night I had a continued sense of exploding shells and guns firing off and whistling bullets.” That morning about 9 am, a big warship came down the Canal firing its broadsides. The enemy had by then retired though a batch we still in position caught near the Canal bank. “When the warship was passing down, one of their snipers picked off the look-out man in the crow’s nest and shot him dead…” The “the warship fired six or seven shells in amongst the Turks, but couldn’t locate them. A company of the — Punjabis was sent out to locate them. They found them in greater numbers than they could cope with, so a double company was sent out in addition. It was here that poor Cochrane of the -- Punjabis was killed. He came to Egypt on our ship, and was a friend of everybody’s. We were all frightfully sorry to hear of his death. Early that day he had had a narrow escape owing to a white flag incident - some enemy showed a white flag, but on our men ceasing fire and approaching, some opened fire, luckily killing no one. After that, Cochrane was collecting his men on the brow of a hill, and was shot dead while doing so. The whole of the enemy left in this part were all rounded up and either killed, wounded, or captured…”
About 300 of them were rounded up. “The Turk is a good-looking chap, and, I should think, an excellent soldier. The Syrians who had been rounded up out of their villages and made to fight were a poorer-looking lot - evidently with no stomach for the fight at least in this particular war at any rate.”
On 5th February more prisoners were brought in, albeit stragglers, being Turks of the 29th Regiment. Then Stewart got a message to go and collect the Turkish wounded, and went out with his stretcher-bearers. Sent to collect wounded at the position identified as ’S’ on arrival a further Turkish attack was expected, and “Generals and Staffs were running about in a great fuss.” What was thought to be an attack turned out to be the further retiral of the enemy over the hills. So he carried on collecting the wounded. The following two days were mostly quiet and so ends his account, which in reality is in far more detail than described above.
Continuing in his duties as a medical officer with the 2nd Battalion, 10th Gurkha Rifles, Stewart now found his battalion transferred to the 29th Indian Brigade, and then saw service at Gallipoli. The brigade had initially been intended to be part of the New Zealand and Australian Division in the landing at Anzac Cove but instead was directed to assist at Cape Helles where the situation was deteriorating since the assault on 25 April. The brigade landed at Cape Helles in early May and the 2nd Battalion took part in the Battle of Gully Ravine which began on 28 June. It was for this action that Stewart’s second surviving account covers. The Battle of Gully Ravine lasted from 28 June to 5 July 1915. Written on 2 July 1915 in typed letter form over 8 pages, it covers the five days preceding the date of compilation.
“2nd July 1915. This is a record of the doings of the last week, so far as I can remember them, or rather of the last five days. It is what has happened to us in the attack on the enemy’s right flank which was very strongly held. We, the Indian Brigade, were holding our left flank. The Peninsula is more or less of a plateau about 100 feet above the sea, and on its west side where we are, runs down to the beach in nullahs and steepish cliffs so - in front of us were four lines of enemy’s trenches, communicating at their left by a big trench along their ends.” (As with his previous account, hand drawn diagrams are included).
“These we might call A,B,C,D. From the south our objective was to take these four lines of trenches, consolidate them and join up in some way with our centre. At the end of B was a strong redoubt sort of place crammed as we knew with machine guns. The part the regiment had to play was to go round the cliffs and arrive at B trench, which by that time would have been taken from the front by a British regiment - then to consolidate and dig in this trench and hold it. The other half of the regiment was to go round the cliffs to trench C and to the same there - dig and improve and be ready for counter-attacks. At 9 a.m. a general bombardment of the whole Turkish position A,B,C,D was commended - all the guns on the peninsula pounded shells into it and a couple of destroyers and a cruiser battered at it from the sea. From 9 to 11 the bombardment was directed at A and, and at 11 A and B trenches were occupied by us with very little loss. The Turks were demoralised by the artillery fire and fled back to the next lines of trenches. Similarly C and D - we got into them with not much loss. It was after we got in that our trouble commenced. The Turks opened a furious fire of heavy shell and shrapnel, but I must tell you just what I saw myself. I had collected my stretcher bearers and gave the regiment half an hours start and then essayed to follow it. We nipped over the next ridge and into the next hollow and found that it was impossible to go on any firmer. The enemy had naturally by this time got our idea and made determined efforts by artillery fire to close the road that way onwards. High explosive shells and shrapnel rained more or less. We all crouched in shelters on the north side of the hollow. A high explosive shell coming towards you is a terrifying thing. You first hear a whilst coming nearer and nearer and louder and louder till it becomes a wild shriek - then a shaking explosion and earth and stones and pieces of shell go sing singing into the air - and you thank God that one is gone and you wonder where the next one, whose whistling shriek you already hear, you wonder where it will fall, and as it comes nearer and louder, you involuntarily crouch and your heart beats, and you know that the sun and the sky and the dancing waves are beautiful and the shining grains of sand on which your eyes are fixed are finer than any diamonds, and that the ant that is carrying off a dead fly --- and bang —- snd you are lucky to be able to shake the dust from your clothes and topi. I am not naturally a brave person - I have to exert myself to repress a choking sense of fear. Well, after we had been there for about 15 minutes and nobody hurt, it slackened a bit. I looked down to the beach and saw some wounded men coming along, and I realised that I wasn’t doing my job sitting where i was - so I had my stretcher bearers run down in the shelter of the nullah to the beach and crept along to the opening of the nullah that led up to C where I met Moran of ours with his head bandaged and being held up by two Tommies. He had been shot above the eyes but was still conscious. I gave him some morphia and had him taken along to the Dressing Station.”
“At the mouth of the C nullah I found some of our wounded coming in - our assent to C had not been scathe less. It was an awful nullah to get up - no path - rocks and stones and boulders. I got to our headquarters at the top and found Clarke wounded - he had had a piece of his heal taken away. I thanked God that it was no worse and sent him off on a man’s back down the nullah. Almost at the same time the Colonel was hit on the head by a shrapnel, luckily a graze only. Scott was hit through the side of the neck and Higgin had a graze on the front of his throat. Two of our Gurkha officers had been blown to bits. Two Subadars had bene shot and about 20 men killed and some 40 wounded by nightfall. I had a dreadful time getting some of the wounded out of the trenches - stretchers were impossible. Men were digging in the trench which was narrow. I had to carry them out in blankets and every movement must have been exquisite agony. I hope the morphia worked.”
“We had a hurried meal of sorts and everybody had to start to dig at once, and everyone was tired already. We occupied the trench roughly from B to D and we and a British regiment started to dig a joining trench which I have shown dotted on my first diagram. The further ends of the parallel trenches A,B,C,D opened into a nullah which was held by the Turks, and the cross trench we were making was to get some sort of frontal defence to our point in against an attack from this nullah. It was moonlight now - there was a constant sweep of shrapnel along the top of the trench but it stopped as the night went on.”
“I had been round all the trenches and over the ground round to see if there was any wounded left, and had got four of our men and set them down the nullah - in the half light we could see the men digging the communication trench in front of us - then they seemed to stop. Figures came towards us and went back, again it happened. Some rushed right back to our trenches, then somebody fired, and there was a crackle along the line. There were shouts to stop, that they were out own men come back from digging. In the midst of this there was another rush of dark figures towards our trench - in God’s name who are they? - there is soon no doubt. I could see two large figures silhouetted against the sky, with the peaked cap of the Turk their rifles pointing down to our trench and the gleam of their fixed bayonets - then the quiet flashes from the rifle muzzles, and a lunge forward at our trench, and my heart sickened at the thought of what might have happened in the darkness of the parapet. There was no doubt now that the Turks had attacked the trench. The crackle of rifles was deafening - had the Turks forced an entrance? nobody could tell. At last it died down, and we saw that the Turks had been unsuccessful in gaining our trench, but had occupied the low ground in front of it where they couldn’t be seen. Just then I got word to me that Atkinson had been hit and I went off to find him. On the way I found a wounded boy of ours. He told us that he had been hit by a bomb which somebody had thrown from behind our trench, between us and the sea, and that somebody from behind too had shot the adjutant sahib. I passed word down to the stretcher bearers to come up for this case and went on to look for Atkinson. It had never occurred to me that he might be dead, but a few yards further on I came on a huddled figure, whose easeful position betokened only death. I straightened him out and looked. He must have died at once, thank God, and he had been shot from behind. I got up and looked over the back of the trench towards the sea, and I shall never forget what I saw there. There were some bushes about 10 yards away and the moon behind lit everything up. Between two of the bushes there was a face - devilishly malevolent it seemed to me in the ghastly moonlight - and there was a hand too and that hand was toying with something in its grasp. I stood petrified for an instant, and shouted to the men in the trench who were looking out in front in the other direction, to scatter, and the face and hand disappeared. I went along to Higgin and he sent out some scouts over the ground, but they could find no one. We got the man later, and he paid his penalty, but I shall talk of that later. There was no sleep and no rest that night. I had to get wounded men in stretchers from C down the nullah to the beach, and having got them there, to try and get them back to the Field Ambulance Dressing Station. The mouth of the nullah was continually shelled but we had to risk it in the quiet intervals. There was once point jutting out in the beach which was a regular mark, when you got near it at the double until your were round. About two o’clock we got news that the Turks were bombing us back with hand bombs from the nullah end of C, and Higgin and Campbell were sent with a double company to turn them out. Higgin has never come back. He was seen to fall, and must be dead.”
In the morning, the Turks in front of our trench started bombing us with hand bombs. Our men got up behind our trench and had pot shots at them. They evidently made it too hot for the Turks - they rose in a body and rushed back towards their own nullah. There was a crick crick crick, and the running subsided. The few Turks who hadn’t tried to run back, got up and surrendered, and brought their wounded in with them, and right glad they all seemed to be safe. One or two of them were awfully badly hit and had been lying out from the previous night. I gave them water and morphia and those who needed it and dressed their wounds, they were all then marched off.”
“Oh, this dreadful day. The Turks again attacked the nullah end of Trench C with bombs which were thrown by hand. By some oversight, our Brigade had been supplied with only some twenty or thirty bombs. These were soon expended and the Turks started bombing us back from the piece of C we had taken. This was a narrow trench and not very deep when we took it and we had not yet had time to make it fit for defence. You dare not show any part of yourself above the ground level without being fired at from about 6 different places. There were already dead in the trench and the living holders of the trench had to crouch among them and one them to keep under cover. There were wounded too but only those who could crawl back by themselves could be attended to. There were some bad cases but they had to be left until night and many of them died meanwhile, perhaps they would have, in any case, but I didn’t like to think of them lying there being hustled and trampled on. Campbell came back in the afternoon for some food. Some part of a bomb had got him in the face, in the cheek and nose and ear. A piece of stone or something had gone in through his nose and broken up his septum. After he was cleaned and dressed however he was back again with Russell.”
“We got the sniper tonight. Stewart and I were sitting in dugouts on the north slope of the nullah running down to the sea - the moon was just coming up - we both saw it at the same time - a creeping figure amongst the bushes on the other side of the nullah. It would come to the edge, look over gently, and then settle amongst the bushes. I was honestly afraid. I knew it was my friend the sniper, though I was the only one who had seen him, and they rather thought that I must have been dreaming or excited the night before. However, there was no doubt about him now. Stewart saw him too, and I cried to him to run down straight under cover. We did so, expecting rather to be shot every minute. We got four men, an N.C.O. and having challenged the place, and got no answer, we sent them out with orders to bring the man back dead. Battye’s orderly it was who got him. He started to run off when they got to the level ground, but they chased him and bayoneted him. The ground was scoured for any more, but there were none to be seen. He was a Turk all right, but the funny thing was, we couldn’t find his rifle anywhere. Next day I hunted all over the ground for it too, but couldn’t find it. What he had done with it, I don’t know, nor what he was doing creeping about on the edge. Perhaps, after his bombs had given out, and he had lost his rifle, he was making an attempt to get back to his own lines. Anyhow, I felt a little avenged for Atkinson’s death.”
“The night time was a repetition of the one before. Russell and Campbell were set off to retake the old piece of trench, and Russell is dead now. Then news came that both Campbell and Russell were dead - oh, it was too cruel - for a minute or two I couldn’t stick it out. However, I simply had to recover myself quickly. An hour later they told me Campbell was still perfectly alright but that Russell had been hit through the head while leading his men up a little bluff. A good chap Russell, quiet and retiring and with no special social abilities, but with a quiet dry humour that only lit occasionally. We shall miss him, those of us who are left. A day will come possibly when we shall be able to joke again about his “brown suiting” which he bought ten years ago, and which I believe he still donned in Taklah when he was forced to got to a tea party. I wonder if his people know by now. Little Campbell has done awfully well. My orderly says that he can’t be killed now because he has been through so much and done so well. Lets hope. I sent some very bad cases down to the Ambulance today awful wounds of the head from bombs. Some of them I wished wound die in front of me. One poor boy with the side of his head blown away and his brain exposed. He was just crying quietly and moaning not…” At this point the account ends.
The 29th Indian Brigade as a whole was moved to Anzac Cove in August where it took part in the August Offensive. The 2nd Battalion suffered heavy casualties during its participation in the Gallipoli campaign.
Stewart saw further service during the Great War, being present during the Senussi campaign on the north coast of Africa during 1916, and then on active service in Mesopotamia. Latterly he was a Surgical specialist aboard the hospital ship ‘Vasna’ and a Deputy Assistant Director of Medical Services on the Bombay Brigade Staff. He received a Mention in the Government of India Final War Despatch, and ultimately held the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.
In 1919, Stewart was appointed Medical Officer of Health at New Delhi, and gained his Diploma in Public Health (Edinburgh( in 1920. From 1921 onwards he was the Director of Public Health Laboratories in Bengal and Calcutta, and was then made Director of Public Health to Bengal from 1923. He was also Professor of Hygiene to the School of Tropical Medicine at Calcutta, the Principal of the Medical College at Calcutta for two years during 1926 to 1928 when in charge of 600 students, and in the same years was Superintendent of Medical College Hospitals, being in charge of some 800 beds. In 1929 Stewart was selected as Director-Designate to design and superintend building and equipment for the All-India Institute of Hygiene and Public Health at Calcutta, Bengal, this being completed in 1931. Finally in 1932 he was appointed Director and Professor of the Public Health Administration to Bengal.
In 1933, Stewart was appointed a Fellow of the State Medical Faculty of Bengal, and in the same year was decorated as an Officer Brother within the The Most Venerable Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, the award being published in the London Gazette for 2 January 1934, and then on opting to retire from India service, was appointed as a Companion of The Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire, this award being also published in the London Gazette for 2 January 1934.
Most unusually, Stewart’s original citation for his appointment as a Companion of The Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire survives within his records. The announcement made by the Director-General of the Indian Medical Service with the support of the Governor of Bengal reads as follows: ‘During a career of 28 years in the Indian Medical Service you have held with marked success important posts of a civil and military character. In 1928 you were chosen by the Government of Bengal to re-organise under exceptionally difficult circumstances the working of the Medical College, Calcutta, and in the same year you rendered valuable service in connection with the Calcutta Congress of the Far Eastern Association of Tropical Medicine. In 1930 you were selected as a representative of the Government of India at the Congress of the same Associaiton which was held at Bangkok. For the last five years you have held the responsible and important post of Director of the All-India Institute of Hygiene and Public Health, Calcutta, for which you were specially selected. Throughout your service you have shown yourself to be an excellent officer of exceptional performance, skill and administrative understanding. In the name of the King Emperor and by His Majesty’s command I invest you with the Badge of the Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire of which His Majesty has been pleased to appoint you a Companion.’
Stewart had decided to leave India, and in 1935 received glowing testimonials as he proceeded to take up the position of Medical Superintendent at the Royal Infirmary at Edinburgh, and was in this post during the difficult years of the Second World War. The respect with which he was held in Edinburgh was marked by the award of L.L.D., a Legum Doctorate as “one who had deserved well of his Alma Mater maintaining and enhancing the reputation of the faculty of medicine abroad and at home” and by his election to the fellowships of the Royal College of Physicians and the Royal Society of Edinburgh. Lieutenant Colonel A.D. Stewart, C.I.E., M.B., LL.D., F.R.C.P.ED., F.R.C.S.ED., D.T.M.&H., D.P.H., F.R.S.ED., I.M.S. (Retd.) died on 16 August 1969 in Edinburgh.
