CHAPTER V

Karishtiran bridge—An unforgettable sight—A
broken shutter—Shamed troops—What might
have been—A rally—The power of discipline—
Towards the front—The epilogue of Lule
Burgas—Terrible but not disgraceful—Welcome
cigarettes—The lash in warfare—Flogging
broken men.

When we looked again the entire hill-side
was alive with men, all of them rushing
pell-mell towards the steep and narrow
bridge over which the retiring troops
had for some time been passing. The
far approach to the bridge speedily
became congested with a mass of howl¬
ing, screaming, fighting humanity, if,
indeed, one can apply the term to a
body of men who within  a few instants

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