CHRISTMAS AT THE PYRAMIDS
"From faithful lass and loving wife
I bring a wish divine
For Christmas blessings on your head."
"I wish you well," the sentry said,
"But here, alas! you may not pass
Without the countersign."
He vanished–and the sentry's tramp
Re-echoed down the line.
It was not till the morning light
The soldiers knew that in the night
Old Santa Claus had come to camp
Without the countersign.
A. B. PATERSON.
But there were to be another two months of waiting yet–of waiting and
tireless preparation, before any fighting was to come their way. And
this delay had the best of good reasons behind it. For one thing it
would not have been wise to bring the fighting men of Australia and New
Zealand straight out of their own summer to face the rigours of a
northern winter in England, or in France; and for another, Lord
Kitchener has a habit–a very disconcerting habit for his enemies and
some of his self-important critics–of looking ahead and providing for
to-morrow; he foresaw that things might soon be happening in the sunny
land of the Pharaohs and knew that when they did happen it would be good
to have such a hefty band of warriors ready there and waiting for them.
"I am pleased to be able to announce," said Mr. Fisher in the Australian
House of Representatives on the 4th December, "that the Australian and
New Zealand contingents have safely arrived and have disembarked in
Egypt to assist in the defence of that country and to complete their
training there. They will go direct to the front to fight with other
British troops in Europe when their training is complete. Acting on the
strong recommendation and advice of Lord Kitchener, the Commonwealth
Government agreed to the Australian Imperial Force being landed in Egypt
for training instead of in England. It was pointed out that to house
Australians in tents in an English mid-winter after a long voyage in
troopships through the tropics and sub-tropics would be a very severe
trial and impose unnecessary hardships on our men. Lord Kitchener's
proposals were entirely due to his anxiety to secure the best possible
conditions for the success of our forces, in which he takes a very
special interest."
A similar announcement was made by New Zealand's Premier, who said that
his Government also had readily acquiesced in Lord Kitchener's
suggestions.
Some thousands of the troops went off almost at once to form part of the
Army of English Territorials and Egyptian regiments that were occupying
Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula; but the great majority of the
Australasians pitched their camps in the desert round about Cairo. The
Light Horse were at Maadi; the New Zealanders at Sertun, on the opposite
bank of the Nile; and the Australian infantry were at Menai, ten miles
outside Cairo at the foot of the hills, in the shadow of the Pyramids.
This which had been trackless waste before they came was transformed
within a fortnight after their arrival into a vast canvas city, with
long streets of white tents intersected here and there by wooden booths
that were used as shops and cafés. Men and stores were carried from
Alexandria by rail to the temporary station of Abu Ela, just beyond
Cairo, and thence by wagon, mule, camel, and afoot, or in the electric
trams that run from Cairo to the Pyramids. It was impossible by threats
or entreaties to hustle the leisurely natives who assisted in this
arduous transport work; nevertheless it was all accomplished, the camp
erected and organised, and by the middle of December the strangers from
oversea had made themselves comfortably at home in the desert. The
streets of white tents stretched for miles across the sands;
brown-visaged, white-robed natives would come and hover on the outskirts
of them hawking sweetmeats and fruit, or would squat patiently on the
alert to offer their services as guides to soldiers going off on leave,
or would gather in picturesque, chattering groups to gaze admiringly
whilst the troops went through their usual drill exercises or on some
days carried out more extensive military manœuvres.
Every day the big camp hummed with miscellaneous activities; and every
day there were regiments busy at bayonet practice, at heavy trench
digging, at long route marches under the blazing sun across the
apparently interminable flats of sand; but almost every day, too, there
were hundreds set free to crowd into and on the electric trams and
descend upon Cairo to lounge through the bazaars and to fraternise with
their English comrades in arms who were to be met with there and who
joyously did the honours of the city and took them round to see the
wonders of it. And almost every day there were parties of such
holiday-going fighting men captured by vociferous Arab guides, and
driven furiously off on sturdy little mules, with their drivers tearing
and panting after them, to make a nearer acquaintance with the Sphinx,
or to explore the dim, mysterious chambers of the Pyramids.
I like to think of those keen young Australians, men of the youngest of
nations, who have put their hands to the building of the happier world
of to-morrow which shall be a greater and more lasting monument to them
than any pyramid of brick and stone–I like to think of them, eager,
splendidly alive, on the threshold of a new day, turning aside to wander
in those dusty halls and passages haunted by ghosts of a wondrous
civilisation that has been dead these thousands of years. I like to
think, too, of those hoary pyramids, dark with long memories, towering
up into the bright sky on Sunday mornings when church service was being
held in the camp, and hearing the faint preludings of the military band
and then the swell of a myriad voices joining in some such nobly simple
hymn as "Rock of Ages"–an alien melody to them, but with all of home in
it for the singers. Strange hours they must have been when those voices
of the future broke the silence of the past.
Another circumstance that appeals to the imagination is that amongst
this continuous coming and going of troops, the stir and noise of
warlike preparations, there was a small prohibited area where Dr.
Reisler, the American Egyptologist, was all the while making excavations
and reverently unearthing the ancient tombs at the base of one of the
pyramids, serenely undisturbed. But though that area was officially
forbidden to the soldiers, Dr. Reisler made them heartily welcome when
any happened to stray into his neighbourhood. The _Age_ correspondent
asked him whether the proximity of the troops inconvenienced him and
"Why, surely," said he with a pleasantly strong American intonation, "I
don't mind the troops coming down here. I welcome all you Australians.
And, believe me, the natives have taken a great fancy to your men. They
are tickled to death with them."
There were two great days towards the end of December, when
Lieutenant-General Sir John Maxwell, Commander of the forces in Egypt,
rode into Menai camp, and, with General W. R. Birdwood, commanding the
Australian and New Zealand contingents, and Sir George Reid, the
Australian High Commissioner, held a review in which cavalry, infantry,
and all branches of the Australian service took part, one regiment, on
the second day, arriving back from a long desert march with their coats
off and shirt-sleeves turned up, hot and dusty, but in the highest
spirits, and falling into line immediately to parade past with the rest.
They say that the sight of these hardy fellows approaching in sensible
deshabille, but fresh as paint after miles of tramping under a broiling
sun, moved General Maxwell to ejaculate emphatically to the High
Commissioner, "This is a splendid sight, Sir George. They're a grand
lot!"
But I have a notion that the most memorable event of those two months
was the Christmas which they all spent in the desert. From 3 o'clock in
the afternoon of Christmas Eve parades were dispensed with, and for two
days the homely spirit of Yule triumphed over the spirit of Mars on the
banks of the Nile. Instead of small tourist parties, thousands went
pouring out on camels and donkeys to the Sphinx and the pyramids, and
thousands went to crowd and enliven the bright streets of Cairo and
chaffer at the booths for gifts to send to the folk down south. The
adjacent palm groves were laid under contribution and the tents lavishly
decorated within and without; and after dark, when the revellers were
back, every tent was brilliantly lighted up, and Chinese lanterns hung
glowing at the entrances to many of them. Sentries along the moonlit
road that led from Cairo tried to maintain the usual punctilious
military formalities, but as often as not the returning groups would
have none of their challenges, in such a time as that, and answered with
insubordinate flippancies. "You can see who goes here right enough,
Joe–it's me." "Look here," the outraged sentry would protest, "if you
don't halt when I tell you to I'll call the guard out and put you under
arrest." "No, don't do that, Joe, it's chilly, and the poor chaps will
catch cold. Merry Christmas, old boy." And the rebel passed on with his
friends, and the sentry, since after all it was Christmas, grinned and
let them go.
Though they returned to camp they were not going to bed; hardly anybody
thought of sleep until daybreak. Something after midnight a
cornet-player in one of the tents started a Christmas carol, and the
singing and laughter that had been coming from the other tents quieted
down; another cornet farther along the canvas street joined in; then
another farther off still, a street or two away. When they stopped, a
drum sounded and a string band somewhere took up the burden and filled
the blue dark with memories that did not belong to the desert. Towards 4
o'clock, when all the other music had dwindled into silence, the band of
the 4th Sydney Battalion began a series of such carols–the old, old
familiar tunes that catch at the heart-strings with dear and sacred
associations–and so played the last of the night away and the first of
the morning in. And with the morning came the Christmas mails, and there
was scarcely a tent in all those miles of them at which the postmen did
not call with letters from home.
Early in the day the camp kitchens were getting busy, but outside help
had been called in so as to give the regimental cooks a holiday. After
church parade the men laid themselves out to make the most of the day.
There were the wildest donkey races, and several attempts to organise a
camel race, but the camels could not be persuaded to run. Two scratch
teams were got together for a cricket match with make-shift bats and
wickets; and the New South Wales regiment carried through a successful
football tournament. Dinner was, of course, the crowning event of the
day. This was served in two miles of wooden huts, four of which were
allotted to each regiment. There was a turkey for every table, and a
supply of turkeys held in reserve in case any table demanded more than
one. There were Christmas puddings in plenty, and other seasonable fare,
and some of the tables had even succeeded in supplying themselves with
crackers. In spite of the time and the place, the old festival was
observed with all the good cheer and jollity that traditionally belong
to it; and not the least pleasant moment of the festivities came when
the Colonels of the different regiments looked in at hut after hut to
see that their men were well supplied and to wish them a Merry
Christmas; and you might track the way those Colonels went by the cheers
that followed them.
One of the Australian officers sent home the following as the menu of
his Christmas dinner in the desert:
BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS STAFF AND FIELD ARTILLERY BRIGADE
TABLE D'HÔTE
_Soup_:
Vegetable.
_Joints_:
Roast Sirloin of beef.
Boiled pork.
Ham.
Poultry.
Roast turkey and savoury sauce.
_Vegetables_:
Asparagus and butter sauce.
Baked and mashed potatoes.
Green peas.
_Sweets_:
Plum pudding and brandy sauce.
Port wine jelly.
Blanc mange and jam.
Fruit salad.
Almonds, mixed nuts, snapdragon, fruits in season.
Port wine, whisky, brandy.
Aerated waters. Tea, coffee, cocoa.
The festivities were continued to some extent through most of the
following day, then the suspended routine was resumed, the relaxed
discipline tightened up again; holiday-making was over, and officers and
men were presently heartened by a prospect of coming to grips with the
enemy at last.
6
THE FIGHT FOR THE SUEZ CANAL
[Illustration: AN AUSTRALIAN LANDING PARTY FOR THE DARDANELLES.]
[Illustration: AUSTRALIANS PREPARING TO DISEMBARK IN THE DARDANELLES.]
[Illustration: AUSTRALIANS LANDING NORTH OF GABA TEPE.]