One's system has got so acclimatised to high temperatures that I find
it chilly and want my greatcoat to sit in at any temperature under
80°, under 100° is noticeably warm.
The men are getting livelier already and the sick list will soon, I
hope, shrink. The chief troubles are dust and flies. About four days
per week a strong and often violent wind blows from the N.W., full of
dust from the desert, and this pervades everything. The moment the
wind stops the flies pester one. They all say that this place is
flyless compared to Nasiriyah, where they used to kill a pint and a
half a day by putting saucers of formalin and milk on the mess table
and still have to use one hand with a fan all the time while eating
with the other, to prevent getting them into their mouths. Here it is
only a matter of half a dozen round one's plate--we feed on the first
floor, which is a gain. In the men's bungalows I try to keep them down
by insisting on every scrap of food being either swept away or covered
up: and the presence or absence of flies is incidentally a good test
as to whether the tables and mugs, etc., have been properly cleaned.
They are worse in the early morning. When I ride through the town
before breakfast they settle all up the sunny side of me from boot to
topi, about two to the square inch, and nothing but hitting them will
make them budge. They are disgusting creatures. Of course the filthy
habits of the natives encourage them. The streets are littered with
every kind of food-scraps and dirt: and the Arab has only two
W.C.'s--the street and the river. Our chief tyranny in his eyes is
that we have posted sanitary police about who fine him 2_s_. if he
uses either: but like all reforms it is evaded on a large scale. The
theory that the sun sweetens everything is not quite true. Even after
several days' sun manure is very offensive and prolific: and many
parts of the streets are not reached by the sun at all: and in any
case the flies get to work much sooner than the sun.
We have just had news from the front that a successful action has been
fought, the enemy's left flank turned and several hundred prisoners
taken--our own casualties under 500. So the show seems to have come off
up to time. We were afraid it might have to be postponed, as a raiding
party got round and cut our L. of C., but this does not appear to have
worried them. I hope they will be able to follow this success up and
capture all their guns and stores, if not a large proportion of their
forces.
Two days ago we got the best news that we have had for a very long
time from both European fronts, an advance of from one to three miles
over nearly half the Western front, with about 14,000 prisoners: and
Russian reports of 8,000 dead in front of one position and captures
totalling something like 20,000. Since then no news has come through,
which is very tantalising, as one longs to know whether the forward
move has been continued. I am afraid even if it has there will be more
enormous casualty lists than ever.
The most boring thing about this place is that there are no amusing
ways of taking exercise, which is necessary to keep one fit. As a
double Coy. Commander I have a horse, a quiet old mare which does
nothing worse than shy and give an occasional little buck on starting
to canter. But the rides are very dull. There are only three which one
may call A, B and C, thus:
[Illustration]
A is the flooded area, and when it is dry it is caked as hard as
brick, and not a vegetable to vary the landscape.
B takes one through the little ground, the four cemeteries, and the
deserted brick-kilns: by the time one is through these it is generally
time to go home: and even beyond it is market gardens and one can only
ride on foot-paths: and there are only two foot-paths through the
barbed wire defences.
C is good soft-surfaced desert, much the best riding ground though its
virtues are negative. But to reach it one has to cross the Tigris by
the boat-bridge, and this is apt to be cut at any moment for the
passage of boats, which means a delay of half an hour, not to be
lightly risked before breakfast: and in the afternoons the interval
between excessive sun and darkness is very brief. It is too hot to
ride with pleasure before 4.30 and the sun sets at 5.30: and the dusty
wind is at its worst till about 5.
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