He said, "The plan now is to send us to Gallipoli." The trade of a leader of squadrons, thought I, is to confound the laid plans of the enemy and to invent unexpected ones of his own.
"The day we land in Gallipoli behind the Turkish trenches," said I to myself, "is unlikely to be yet if Ranjoor Singh lives." And I was right, sahib.

But If I had been given a thousand years in which to do it, I never could have guessed how Ranjoor Singh would lead us out of the trap.

Can the sahib guess?
.