Training in Egypt.
The first troop train, with Divisional Headquarters on board, got away
late in the afternoon, and pursued its way past old Lake Mareotis,
with the little brown fishing boats dotted over its waters, into the
heart of the Nile Delta. In the failing light the network of irrigation
canals, the graceful date palms, and the unpretentious mud houses were
dimly discernible.
All night long more trains were loaded and disappeared into the gloom.
The Cairo-Alexandria express would be a credit to any English railway
company, doing the journey of 133 miles in a little over three hours,
but the troop trains, like their kindred all over the world, took a
little more leisure, being about eight hours on the way, the first
train reaching Zeitoun, four miles further on through Cairo, at 1
o'clock the next morning. The baggage and supplies were tumbled out
into the darkness; guards were mounted; and horses and men trudged
their weary way about a mile and a half along a dusty white road and
across a sandy desert, eventually coming to a halt near a racecourse,
to the picket fence of which the horses were made secure, while those
who could lay down on the sand to snatch an hour or two of sleep.
It was the Egyptian winter and the nights were exceedingly cold, but
the weary men slept on. More and more trains rolled in to Helmieh and
Palais de Koubbeh; more and more men and horses stumbled into the
bivouac, until about 5 o'clock even the heaviest sleeper was awake
and endeavouring to restore circulation until the rising sun should
dissipate the morning mist. A great hunger became infectious--most men
had a ration of bully beef and biscuits, but the wherewithal to make
the welcome billy of tea was not forthcoming. Then the New Zealanders
found real friends--friends in need--the men of the East Lancashire
Territorial Division, for the generous North Countrymen arrived with
steaming-dixies of tea and "summat t' eat." These were the first
English troops we had "lain" alongside, and the good-fellowship so
welcomely begun in the desert was strengthened later on the Gallipoli
Peninsula.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
"DONKS."
These big mules of the N.Z. Divisional Train were bred in North
America.]
Presently the sun burst triumphantly through the mist and disclosed a
bivouac of thousands of men and horses lying on the edge of a limitless
desert. As far as the eye could see was a yellow sandy plain. This was
skirted on the Cairo side by the main Heliopolis-Suez road, which ran
east and west through the camp, and was bounded on the far horizon by
a range of low brown sandhills. Soon all hands were at work pitching
headquarters and the supply depots south of this main road and the
other units north of it. A new road at right angles to the main road
was constructed in a northerly direction--on the right of which the
mounted rifles, artillery and ambulance placed their tents and horse
lines, while the infantry occupied the whole of the left hand side.
Water-pipes had been laid on and watering troughs for horses were
already on the ground, and by evening some order had been evolved,
though many troops had again to bivouac in the open, realizing that,
notwithstanding the poets, the sands of the desert do become very cold
about 2 o'clock in the morning.
By the end of a week all the ships had been cleared of men, horses and
stores, and the three colonial camps had shaken down into something
like order--the Australian infantry at Mena, under the shadow of
the great Pyramids; the Australian Light Horse at Medi; and the New
Zealanders at Zeitoun. The horses were not fit for either transport
work or driving, but for a week or two were exercised in progressive
work until able to stand the strain of manoeuvres. Out of nearly four
thousand horses only eighty-eight failed to survive the buffetting
journey through the Tasman Sea and Great Australian Bight, the
sweltering heat of the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea, and the hazardous
acclimatization in a hot and sandy desert--there they stood in long and
polished rows, chewing the succulent berseem and munching the dry and
uninviting tibbin, which apparently caused the horses much less concern
than it did the anxious troopers.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
THE WATER CART ON THE DESERT.]
Training commenced in earnest. Early every morning the infantry
battalions paraded in full marching order and trudged through miles
of sandy desert. Like so much of the soldier's life, this work was
not interesting, but it was necessary; with clothing designed for a
cool climate the long columns swung out along the never-ending sands,
hardening the hardy ones, the cruel desert slowly but mercilessly
winnowing out the few unfit. If a man had a bad knee or a weak
chest, those weary sweltering marches and misty nights sought out
the weak, who were sent to the Egyptian Army Hospital at Abassia,
where Australian nurses of Queen Alexandra's Imperial Nursing Service
nursed them tenderly back to health, or sent them broken-hearted to
convalesce at Alexandria preparatory to their long sea voyage home.
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._
IN THE SHADE OF THE DATE PALMS.]
The mounted rifles, artillery and engineers daily exercised their
horses and teams until it was possible to have squadron and battery
training. Out in the hot sun all day, by diligence and care, men and
horses became efficient units in the great machine. The way was not
always a sandy one; sometimes the route lay along the banks of the
irrigation canals, past ancient sakiehs and Archimedean screws lifting
the precious water into the little tributary canals that are the life
of Egypt. Past fields of wheat and tomatoes; acres of beans reminding
one of Thoreau's sojourn in the wilds; down scented orange groves
and acacia avenues; through acres and acres of the clover known as
berseem--the soldiers went their way, marvelling at the fertility of a
land that produces three crops within the year.
On those fresh dewy mornings, with the crows chattering noisily in the
trees overhead, one realized what made Egypt triumph over Time. These
simple fellaheen and their forbears had watched Hittite, Assyrian,
Persian, Greek and Roman sweep through the country and ravish its
beauty, to be followed in later days by Saracen and Turk with the same
intent; and here, long years after, following in the great line of
fighting men, but striving for freedom and not conquest, the soldiers
from the Antipodes, glorying in their youth, pass the old obelisk at
Heliopolis and recognize that, perhaps more than pride of race, a
fertile soil and a diligent husbandry make for national longevity.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
CATTLE ON BERSEEM.
Berseem is a variety of lucerne, and is the staple green food of
camels, horses, cattle, goats and sheep. It helps to keep the Nile
Delta fertile.]
[Illustration: "LIZZIE"]
It may have been because of the church parades, where men sang the
hymns they knew--hymns associated with their early life and Sunday
school, or perhaps during the service men let their minds wander
from the dust and glare of Egypt to the green fields and the loved
ones of home--but whatever the cause, Sunday was essentially the
day of letter writing. On Sunday afternoons, groups of men wandered
farther afield--to the mighty Pyramids of Ghizeh, there to pose on
the protesting camels for the conventional photograph of tourist,
sphinx and pyramid; or perchance to the Zoo at Ghezireh, with its
quaint mosaic paths, its giraffes and the bewitching "Lizzie," with
her radiant smile and open countenance. Crowds were fascinated by the
collection of antiquities in the Egyptian Museum, and by those polished
cases in which, surrounded by great sphinxes and pylons, sleep the
former kings of four and five thousand years ago. It is difficult to
conceive that these were ever people of flesh and blood, until the
revelation of mummified queens with their tiny babies forces one to
realize that they, too, once were really human in their hates and
loves, their triumphs and disappointments.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
"MILK DIET."
A Camel Study on the road to Helouan.]
Most of the soldiers' spare time was naturally spent in Cairo. Here
everything seemed to be licensed except the drinking shops--the newsboy
needed a license to sell his papers; the donkey boys and donkeys,
who seemed numberless, were really carefully numbered; the futile
red-tarbushed police spent much of their time chasing the bootblack
who dared to ply without a permit. Owing to the war, the tourist
season had failed--the rich Americans had stayed at home--but in the
well-paid Australians and New Zealanders the astute merchants found
suitable substitutes, whom they proceeded to bleed most unmercifully.
Out into the streets they came with their wares. In the natural course
of affairs men hawked sugar-cane, vegetables, live poultry, sweetmeats
and cakes; the clang of the liquorice-water sellers' gongs clashed with
those of the lemonade man; round the cafes, where the patron sits
at a little table on a footpath, men tendered their little trays of
shrimps and dusty plates of strawberries--all these now supplemented
by an army of boys and men trading walking-sticks and swagger canes by
the thousand; antiques made out of Nile mud; ancient Dervish weapons
with the dust of Birmingham still upon them; foreign postage stamps
on sheets; scenic postcards and questionable pictures; dainty little
fly-whisks and "pieces of the true Cross."
Watching from the balconies of the fashionable hotels (every soldier
is fashionable while the money lasts) the procession filling the
street below was always interesting. The Rolls-Royce of the Egyptian
Pasha slowing down behind a string of heavily-laden camels; a man
with a performing monkey protesting against the intrusion of a flock
of turkeys shepherded ahead and astern by old women--solemnly down
the main street of Cairo go the old ladies with the birds; a wedding
procession with a raucous band meanders past; and jostling one another
on the road, shouting arbagis with their two-horse cabs, scurrying
motor cyclists of the Army of Occupation, and the quaint one-horsed
lorries perambulating the closely-veiled collection of ladies that go
to make the modest modern harem.
Like the schoolboy, the soldier dearly loves a tuck shop. Army fare is
very monotonous. The soldier on trek and in the trenches constantly
talks of his likes and dislikes in the matter of eating and drinking.
So it was that the hotels were always crowded--a hot bath and a meal
were always welcome--and the girls of Cairo were never treated more
liberally and often to the daintiness of Sault's and Groppi's.
The Egyptian, like the Babu, is fond of bursting into print. The
comedian in the colonial forces discovered a rich new field. Eating
houses purveying the fried steak and eggs and tomatoes, together
with imitation Scotch whisky and Greek beer, came forth in all their
glory of calico signs inscribed "The Balclutha Bar," this with a fine
disregard for the prohibition tendencies of the Southern town; "The
Waipukurau Reading Rooms," and the "Wellington Hotel--very cheap and
breezy." Every township in Australia and New Zealand was similarly
honoured!
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._
ON THE TOP OF THE GREAT PYRAMID.
This New Zealand officer, the two Australians, the Ghurkha officer and
the two Ghurkhas are typical of the men who in August 1915, reached the
highest points on the Gallipoli Peninsula--the New Zealanders on Chunuk
Bair; the Australians on Abdel Rahman Bair; the Ghurkhas on Hill Q.]
The most ubiquitous person was easily the bootblack. A soldier could
not walk along the street without being besieged by a pestering
multitude crying "Bootsa clean, sir! no good, no money; Kiwi polish,
sir!" Upon sitting down in a railway station or elsewhere, one's boots
would be attacked by a swarm which had to be literally kicked away.
The places of amusement were very attractive. The houses that combined
refreshment with entertainment were liberally patronized; the food was
much appreciated, and the efforts of the artists cheerfully tolerated.
In the first flush of life in a Continental city, the casinos, dancing
houses and saloons were far too popular, until the nastiness of these
places became apparent through the numbers on the morning sick parades,
whereupon officers and men alike realized that they could not keep fit
by dancing till the small hours of the morning. The soldier knows his
faults, but he strongly resents armchair criticism. It is not difficult
to avoid temptation if one sits quietly at home. A cabbage is not
immoral, it is unmoral. It is easy to condemn the men who sometimes are
not temperate in all things, but the soldier finds it easy to live a
prodigal life. He reasons, perhaps quite wrongly, that he may as well
eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow he may be in the casualty list.
The soldier will not try to defend his conduct. He recognizes he is a
man, with most of the human frailties, yet is prepared at a word and
for an ideal, to place his body as a shield between his country and his
country's enemies.
It was decided to use the New Zealand Expeditionary Force as the
nucleus of a Division. The New Zealand Infantry Brigade and the New
Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade were to be joined by the 1st Australian
Light Horse Brigade and the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade, at that
time on the high seas, en route to Egypt. As regards divisional
troops, there was a great shortage. A Divisional Ammunition Column was
an urgent necessity. A cable was sent to New Zealand asking for the
despatch of a second Howitzer Battery (one was already on the water)
and a Howitzer Brigade Ammunition Column as the necessary complement.
A Field Company of Engineers was to be formed out of surplus
reinforcements, and a cable was despatched to New Zealand for a second
company. The Divisional Train was to be organized as soon as the men
and mechanical transport could be obtained. The Ceylon Planters' Rifle
Corps was also attached and posted to the Wellington Infantry Battalion
as a fifth company.
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Major Brunt, W.I.B._
NEW ZEALAND FIELD ARTILLERY PASSING BAB-EL-HADID, CAIRO.]
The camp rapidly acquired a well-groomed air. Patterns in stone
ornamented the surroundings of each tent. Regimental crests and
mottoes, representations of New Zealand birds and Maori proverbs
were picked out in little coloured pebbles gathered on the desert.
It was discovered that oats, rice and other grains, if soaked in
water, germinated vigorously when planted in the sand. Soon among the
tents of the mounted units there appeared many green patches like
miniature lawns. Round the officers' messes more elaborate gardens were
attempted. From Cairene florists pot plants were procured; these were
plunged, pot and all, into beds made of soil carted from the Canal
banks, and there, watered by the careful Arab gardener, roses and canna
bloomed profusely.
The newspaper boys were a never failing fount of amusement. Knowing no
English but a few carefully taught swear words, these boys would stop
the first slouch hat they met, and ask to have read over in English the
gist of the headlines. Many an honest soldier would read the lines as
printed, but it was too good a field for the wags to miss. Accordingly
it was not uncommon to hear the news cried something like this:
"'Time-ees Egyp.' Very good news! Captain----dead again!" One small boy
made a hobby of "Very good news! 'Egyptian Times' to-morrow!"
Next to the newsboys in number and popularity were the sellers of
oranges. Wherever the troops went in the desert, at smoke-oh, up would
come the boys with the "oringies, very beeg, very sweet," three for a
half-piastre. The oranges were little ones, but with a very meaty and
juicy pulp, and were most grateful and refreshing in the desert heat.
So sudden was their appearance that it seemed these people, together
with the boys who sold the cakes and the ones with the hard-boiled
eggs, must live in the clouds and drop straight down wherever the dust
cloud settled.
[Illustration: "ORINGIES!"]
Egypt was nominally a province of Turkey, but the Khedive, Abbas
Hilma Pasha, having gone over to the Central Powers with Turkey, it
was notified on December 18, 1914, that Egypt was placed under the
protection of His Majesty the King. The suzerainty of Turkey over Egypt
thus terminated. The person appointed to the place of the late Khedive
was His Highness Prince Hussein Kamel Pasha, the eldest living prince
of the family of Mohammed Ali. His Highness was to be proclaimed Sultan
of Egypt at the Abdin Palace, Cairo, on the morning of December 20. The
Australians and New Zealanders furnished representatives to line the
streets--the Otago and Wellington Infantry Battalions with their bands
doing duty for New Zealand. The detachment of Ceylon Planters' Rifles
Corps also assisted in guard duty and were posted in the Abdin Square.
The streets and buildings were gaily decorated--many Italian and Greek
and French flags being displayed, but principally Union Jacks and
ensigns and the new Egyptian flag, red with three white crescents and
stars.
[Illustration: THE MARCH THROUGH CAIRO.
The Field Troop of New Zealand Engineers passing Shepheard's Hotel.]
The authorities entrusted with holding Egypt and the Suez Canal were
sorely troubled in early December in reference to the Turks proclaiming
a Holy War. The Nationalists were active, but with the arrival of the
colonial troops the anxiety of those responsible was greatly relieved.
The suspected civilians and Turkish officers holding high command in
the Egyptian Army were deported to Malta. The Egyptian understands
armed strength and despises weakness. Being aware of this, it was
deemed advisable to parade the troops as strong as possible and march
through the most populous parts of the city.
The New Zealanders were ordered to march through Cairo three days after
the coronation. Leaving the camp early in the morning, the parade moved
down the beautiful asphalt roads; past processions of camels laden
with sugar-cane; past old women with their herds of predatory flocks
of sheep and goats; past Pont Limoun and Bab-el-Hadid barracks to the
Opera Square, where the General Officer Commanding His Majesty's Forces
in Egypt took the salute. This far was plain sailing, but presently
the head of the column dived down a narrow bazaar where four men could
hardly ride abreast. Into this dark slum went the mounted men; the
glistening guns of the artillery; the collapsible boats of the Field
Troop; the cable waggons of the signallers; then the long line of
desert-trained, sun-tanned infantry, with the ambulance and some more
mounted men bringing up the rear. In the bazaars it was almost dark,
and in the narrower streets, where the projecting balconies seemed
to meet overhead, it was not much better. It was a relief to get to
wider streets and less foul air. Lining the streets were thousands of
people, all seemingly in a good humour. In the open workshops, old men
working at primitive loom and lathe never even looked up. Down past the
schools and colleges, where hot-headed young Nationalists were wont to
air their grievances, the cavalcade clattered on its noisy way; here,
perhaps, there was a little scowling. The common people--the men clad
in their many-coloured robes and each wearing the red, flat-topped fez
worn by every male from the Sultan to the donkey driver--made quite a
splash of colour as they crowded on the sidewalk in the shade of the
trees and cheered and clapped with apparent earnestness. Even as the
fellaheen appreciates the fact that under British rule he has to pay
his taxes only once, so the poor and working class of Egypt recognized
that since these bloodless conquerors arrived from overseas, even the
beggar and the seller of Turkish delight had accumulated a little hoard
of piastres. The disturbances of 1919, however, show that the Egyptian
of the cities is a very gullible person.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
AN EGYPTIAN PLOUGHMAN.
The wooden plough is shod with a metal point. The furrow is not turned
over. The earth is merely broken and pushed aside.]
Christmas Eve saw the arrival of the British section of the New
Zealanders, a contingent of six officers and 234 other ranks who
had enlisted in England. These were men who were away from New
Zealand when war broke out--some were gold-dredging in the East;
some were working in the copper mines in Spain; but wherever they
were--Pernambuco, Sarawak or the Andes--when the call came they
hastened to the Old Country and enlisted. Engineers, sailors, painters,
actors and gentlemen of leisure, they banded together in England and
were organized as a machine-gun corps for France, but were eventually
sent out to Egypt. Smart and well drilled, they made an excellent
impression, and were just the men wanted for the nucleus of the new
engineer and transport services, between which two branches they were
equally divided.
The Christmas dinner was eaten out of doors in the hot sun, as the new
dining huts were not ready. New Year was ushered in by festivals in
the city, while out on the desert the regimental bands played all the
old familiar tunes, the men meanwhile holding impromptu dances under
the silent desert stars.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
CHRISTMAS DINNER, 1914.]
Every week the division was becoming better organized and more like the
working whole. From day to day inspections were held by the subordinate
commanders. Periodically, staff officers held minute inspection of
units, until on two occasions the whole division was paraded for
General Maxwell, the General Officer Commanding the Force in Egypt.
Each day now saw an improvement. Transport was continually arriving.
The division was now officially styled "The New Zealand and Australian
Division," as there would be two complete Australian Brigades
incorporated--the 1st Light Horse and the 4th Infantry Brigade.
January 25 was a red-letter day, occupied by the New Zealand Infantry
preparing the camp for the 4th Australian Brigade, due to arrive during
the week. But at 5 o'clock that afternoon came the thrilling news from
Army Corps Headquarters that the Infantry Brigade was needed hurriedly
on the Suez Canal to support the Indian troops against an attack by the
Turks, who were reported to be advancing. During that night seven days'
supplies were carted to the railway stations of Helmieh and Palais
de Koubbeh; ammunition was served out; men's kits were checked and
deficiencies supplied. Far into the night excited soldiers talked, and
scorning sleep, waited expectantly for the morrow.