It was one mass of troops and transport--the neck of the bottle, for more arrived every hour, and the only outlet was the single eastern road.

The town was pandemonium into which distracted German officers were trying to introduce some order.

They didn't worry much about us, for the heart of Anatolia wasn't a likely hunting-ground for suspicious characters.

We took our passport to the commandant, who visaed them readily, and told us he'd do his best to get us transport.
We spent the night in a sort of hotel, where all four crowded into one little bedroom, and next morning I had my work cut out getting a motor-car.

It took four hours, and the use of every great name in the Turkish Empire, to raise a dingy sort of Studebaker, and another two to get the petrol and spare tyres.