After the ambush, dead men and horses seemed to be scattered everywhere; lying in the road and on the hillside. I looked into the nullah and saw dead men in the stream. One horse, I remember, was on its back in the water; its legs pointing skywards. Other horses, more fortunate perhaps, were roaming around here and there.
There were only about twenty of us; remnants of the defunct Motor-Cycle and Bren Carrier Platoons. We had been in reserve to "A" Company, but needs were now becoming obvious elsewhere. The Trench Mortar Platoon, like the rest of us, was on the move, and on foot. They needed to move their equipment and everyone by now, was short of water. Consequently it was decided to round up the loose Jap ponies and use them as pack-horses, with the ex- carriers and motor-cyclists in charge.
One of the ponies had been hit in the neck and breast, by shrapnel; two or three small cuts, with a larger open wound, full of maggots, in the centre of its chest.
During the round-up I was called over to this animal, which was stood, head down, giving occasional short snorts. I wasn't a medic, and I had no knowledge of first aid, but I carried a can which had been supplied by some womans organisation and it contained bandages, dressing pads, sticking plaster and iodine. There was also a card of safety pins. I cleaned out the maggots with a matchtick, but the bandaging was a problem; and I couldn't get the plasters to stick. Then I realised that if I could take the large bandage around the pony's neck, and down round its foreleg, I could fix a pad exactly over the largest wound. This I did, and by the time I had finished the column was lined up and ready to move.
That's how I came to be responsible for "Daisy". I called her Daisy after a coal horse my father had when I was young.
When we moved off I realised the near futility of my efforts. The pony's movements caused the pad to swing to and fro, exposing the wound, but it did solve one problem; it kept the flies away.
The ponies, apart from those that had been ridden by the Japanese officers, carried wooden cradles, and to these we attached the loads, mostly three-inch mortar bombs, three to a case, slung each side. The only other items I remember were the canvas water chaguls, and of course, the dismantled three inch trench mortars.
One of the ponies had a foal, which trotted behind its mother; and this attracted more attention and pity than my poor Daisy.
We hadn't travelled far, - perhaps a couple of miles, when some of the men in "A" Company, who were also overburdened; with a pick or shovel, a box of grenades, or three mortar bombs, complained that they were carrying more than the mules. No doubt not realising that the animals were in a worse state than they.
Consequently a halt was called to re-organise. Immediately we stopped Daisy was down on her knees. She didn't have the strength to regain her feet under the weight of the loaded cradle, so I started to unload her. As I was thus occupied, and everyone else was relaxing, we received the order to move.
A Sergeant appeared in a very agitated state, and grabbed the reins from my hands. He struck my poor old pony across her muzzle two or three times, with the reins, saying "tha's ter show it ooz gaffer". I objected, but could do little under the circumstances. I took the reins feeling more hatred towards him than I felt for the enemy.
We arrived at our destination, which was a long, rather flat topped hill, to find the rifle companies already digging in. An Indian Army mule team made its way along a track which wound round the back of the hill, - huge healthy strong black mules. I tethered Daisy to a tree and ran after the mule team which I found ascending a flight of shallow but long earthen steps cut into the hillside and shored with tree trunks. At the top of the steps I found the Indian Sergeant (Havildar). I explained my problem and he asked me to show him my mule. Thinking that he wanted proof of my story, I raced back down the steps and untethered "Daisy".
We hadn't reached the steps before I realised just how exhausted was this poor animal, even though now she was unloaded. She followed me slowly up the incline, pausing for a rest and that little snort, with a few seconds rest on each steps, we climbed the hill. I found the Havildar and took him to where I had left Daisy at the top of the steps.
Before he spoke, his head and hand gestures were quite emphatic. I gathered that he had thought that I wanted fodder for an army mule. He was unsympathetic. There was no doubt that he regarded Daisy with contempt.
It was getting dark when we descended the steps, so I left Daisy with the other ponies and, once again, climbed the steps. I had noticed sacks full of fodder at the end of the mule lines, so, stealthily, I put some oats etc. into an empty sack and sped off back.
A Corporal in charge of a water party was making up the numbers when he spotted me as I fed Daisy some oats from a rolled down sandbag.
We moved off down the main track the way we had come, past the dead Jap with his leg blown off, and...END OF 966 WORD SAMPLE OF 2,707 WORDS.
