too late: I threw the onus of change on Allenby’s recovery. My new proposal—for which in advance I had pledged their performance—was an intricate dovetailing in the next crowded month and a half, of a “spoiling” raid by the British Camel Corps and the main raid to surprise the Turks by Deraa.
Joyce felt that I had made a mistake. To introduce foreigners would unman the Arabs; and to let them go a month later would be even worse. Young returned a stubborn, combative “impossible” to my idea. The Camel Corps would engross the baggage camels, which otherwise might have enabled the Deraa force to reach its goal. By trying to do two greedy things I should end in doing neither. I argued my case and we had a battle.
In the first place I tackled Joyce concerning the Imperial Camel Corps. They would arrive one morning at Akaba—no Arab suspecting them—and would vanish equally suddenly towards Rumm. From Mudowwara to Kissir bridge they would march in the desert, far from the sight of the Arab Army, and from the hearing of the villages. In the resultant vagueness the enemy intelligence would conclude that the whole of the defunct camel brigade was now on Feisal’s front. Such an accession of shock-strength to Feisal would make the Turks very tender of the safety of their railway: while Buxton’s appearance at Kissir, apparently on preliminary reconnaissance, would put credence into the wildest tales of our intention shortly to attack Amman. Joyce, disarmed by these reasonings, now backed me with his favourable opinion.
For Young’s transport troubles I had little sympathy. He, a newcomer, said my problems were insoluble: but I had done such things casually, without half his ability and concentration; and knew they were not even difficult. For the Camel Corps, we left him to grapple with weights and timetables, since the British Army was his profession; and though he would not promise anything (except that it could not be done), done of