Of the vehicles sent to us for repair some were too far gone to be put
back into service though they were still driveable -- barely, and these
were used for internal transport, delivering hot meals for one thing.
Borrowing the word from India we called them gharries and Johnny Lockett
removed from his skilled occupation of precision grinder was able to
master his to the extent that he could drive around almost clutchless.
Our drawing office was six strong, one from an architectural firm, four
from engineering firms and one, a sergeant, a free-lance artist. We had
ample supplies of drafting materials and were generally well equipped
though we had no print machine, only a glass frame for sun exposures and
a lead lined tank for the water developing and fixing of prints.
Besides cartridge paper and tracing paper there were plenty of rolls of
tracing linen that were rarely used for the designed purpose, once the
starch was washed out it made very nice bedsheets, a little narrow
perhaps but quite useable. We had two types of print paper, one a
standard blueprint and the other a brown line; these were called in army
parlance ferro-prussiate and ferro-gallic respectively.
Insignias of rank do a lot to inflate egos and the Company Office WO
came in full of his importance and the superior status of clerks, he
demanded immediate attention and three prints of a particular drawing.
"What colour d'you want?" asked the sergeant.
"What d'you mean?"
"What colour d'you want?"
"What choice is there?"
"Ferro-prussiate or ferro-gallic."
"Eh?"
"D'you want ferro-prussiate or ferro-gallic?"
"What's the difference?"
"Brown lines or white on blue?"
"I think it had better be the ferro-whatsit, white on blue." And
he departed, a little wiser and somewhat chastened.
Drafting skills and the associated engineering knowledge were not
generally appreciated; an Indian corporal, a Company Office clerk, a
baboo, looked in one day, viewed the work being done and said with an
air of complete confidence in his abilities, "You show me sergeant --
three days I do your job."
The DO was supplied with a bike, an army version, heavy and unwieldy.
Most bikes we were used to in Britain were equipped with two hand brakes
but this one had a coaster brake, trying to pedal backwards would apply
the brake to the back wheel. Riding a bike in Iraq presented some
difficulties, the terrain was a mixture of hard ground and loose sand,
not always easy to tell apart, and loose sand would quickly bring you to
a halt. One day before the hot weather began I was wearing battledress
but not gaiters; I rode off across the desert; almost simultaneously my
trouser leg got caught between the chain and the sprocket, the bike
found some loose sand and I fell off. Lying on the ground attached to
the bike I tried to disentangle myself but with the coaster brake I
couldn't reverse the direction. There was nothing for it but to wind my
trouser leg right around the sprocket, not an easy task when you're
lying on the ground attached to a heavy bike. The trouser leg was not
badly damaged, some minor perforations but a lot of black grease.
Usually after that I walked.
DO STAFF No.1BW, SHAIBA, 1944 Jim Parks Jack Walker
Jock Pulsford John Village John Cox And that bike
As the warmer weather began we had to start sunbathing, for the first
couple of days stripped to the waist we spent five minutes in the sun;
the time in the sun was gradually increased until we eventually acquired
a healthy tan.
Near to our establishment was a prisoner-of-war camp housing Italians
who had been captured in the Western Desert battles; when Italy
capitulated they became, overnight, co-operators and were allotted
billets within our compound. We fraternised and they were allowed to
use our facilities but could not buy beer which was rationed, though
occasionally a non-drinker's bottle would be surreptitiously diverted.
Over the bar was a sign that read Vietato per soldati Italiani the
translation having been provided by one of our cooks who had been a chef
in pre-war Italy. Before the war a DO member had started to teach
himself Italian and had with him a vocabulary; this we used to bridge
the communication gap. We supplemented this by recalling as best we
could our schoolday French and substituting what we believed to be a
corresponding Italian accent got along fairly well.
It was decreed that the mobile cinema showing old films would be
replaced by a permanent theatre that would also show old films. It
would not be an Odeon but would be a more posh theatre and the design
job was given to the DO as we had some architectural experience at hand.
It was to have a sloping earth floor bounded by brick walls with a
little enclosure for the projectionist. When the design was completed
the actual building task was given, using standard army intelligence, to
a pre-war cinema projectionist. The sand was bulldozed up to a wedge
shape and then the brick walls were added but instead of the bottom
course being laid on horizontal footings and stepped at intervals to
obtain the required increase in height the bricks were laid on the
sloping floor with the courses following the same angle. How they
managed the coins beats me.
With the cinema in full swing the Italians naturally wanted to share in
the entertainment and to the army this presented a slight problem for
although they were regarded as co-operators complete integration was not
yet an official policy, memories of hostilities were still fresh. As a
compromise someone thought up a great idea, the cinema would be divided
into two parts separated by a rope cordon, the front one third would be
for the Italians and the rear two thirds would be for the British. I
think the Italians would have accepted this arrangement even though they
had been allocated the worst viewing positions had it not been for the
actions of a couple of Brits who started a call of "Baa, Baa,
Baa." This was soon taken up by the rest of the Brits until the place
sounded like a farmyard at shearing time. One by one the Italians got
up and walked out and the Brits thought they had scored another victory
but two nights later they found that the cinema was still divided by a
cordon which this time ran from front to back so that the two groups now
sat side by side each having good, intermediate and poor viewing
positions. Peace reigned.
As might be expected in the army, government items that should be within
the QM stores often found their way into other hands. Authorities found
that the easiest way of dealing with this problem was to announce that
on a particular time and day a kit inspection would be held, but that on
the previous night the QM stores would be open and all illegally held
items could be returned with no questions asked. The kit inspection
would still be held but it would catch far fewer people and fewer
charges would be laid. One fateful day the lieutenant and sergeant
appeared at my bed and turned out my kit. "Ah, ha," said the
lieutenant as he extracted a steel rule, "government property."
Well he didn't actually say, "Ah, ha," but I gleaned that from the
expression on his face. I assured him that it was my personal property
but he would have none of it. I pointed out that it bore no bench mark
or other mark identifying it as being government property but he said,
"No, -- take his name and charge him, sergeant." They both passed
on through the hut and later the sergeant came back to take particulars;
in the meantime a thought struck me, I went through my wallet and as
luck would have it I found what I wanted. I presented the sergeant with
a bill of sale from a shop in Aldershot registering the purchase of a
steel rule complete with its serial number. He viewed this, mumbled
something and disappeared. Did I ever get an apology for being accused
of stealing? Pigs might fly.
Due to the very hot sandy dusty conditions in the country we were not
supposed to spend more than two summers in Iraq and to ease things for
us the army arranged that everyone would, at some time during that
period, be sent on a two week compulsory leave to Beirut. Imagine,
compulsory leave! The journey was taken in four stages and the
transport was a small convoy of army lorries with Indian drivers and
co-drivers. We drove only on metalled roads and our first overnight
stop was at a place called Wadi Mahomadi where the only signs of
habitation were our huts. After a good night's sleep we set off the
next morning for Rutbah which lay on an oil pipe line guarded by
Military Police but which seemed just as deserted. We stayed there for
the night. Our lorries held about eight of us and we lolled around in
the back; for comfort it was agreed that our army boots should be
removed. Lafferty declined. Ingram, a member of our boxing team
insisted. Lafferty's boots came off. At this point as our lorry started
weaving we discovered that our co-driver was missing, there was only one
man in the cab, the driver, and he was dozing off. Perhaps it had been
this way ever since the start of the journey but we weren't very happy
about the situation so we made the driver keep whistling; whenever the
whistling stopped someone would lean out and reach round into the cab
window and poke the driver to bring him round.
We passed through Dar'a in what was then called Trans-Jordan and our
third night's stop was at Damascus, one of the oldest continuously
occupied cities in the world and here things were much more civilised.
On the forth leg we crossed over the mountain range into Beirut. The
road was serpentine; when we started out it was quite a hot day and we
were in tropical kit, we were told that at the crest, some nine thousand
feet up, we would feel the cold; I was a little doubtful about this but
at the higher points snow lay on the roadsides and I certainly did.
Mount Hermon was pointed out to us in the distance as we drove.
Descending from the crest Beirut and the curve of the Mediterranean
spread out before us, it was a wonderful sight, the beautiful blue sweep
of the sea contrasting with the brilliant white of the houses set in the
green of the trees. However our attention was soon drawn away from this
scene as we realised that instead of changing down to negotiate the
winding road our driver either from ignorance or inability stayed in top
gear and drove on his brakes, and no amount of shouting or banging on
his cab persuaded him to pay any attention to us. We got in to Beirut
without any further incident but I guess his drums and linings were in a
bit of a state.
Until this time right from the beginning of the war we had never been
allowed to wear civilian clothes or go about untidily dressed, there had
never been any respite from the feeling of being controlled, but now
within the camp we were allowed to spend the day in swimming trunks even
when going into the mess tent for meals though of course we dressed to
go into the city. What a feeling of relief, we were human again.
It was a wonderful two weeks, thoroughly refreshing; most of the days
were spent on the beach swimming and breasting the breakers but we went
into the city as well. It is sad to compare the beautiful Beirut of
those days, a most civilised place, with the devastated Beirut of the
1980's. Civilised it was but they were also prepared for the influx of
rowdy soldiery; in one bar a wide shelf about seven feet off the floor
was fronted with chicken wire and on this shelf behind the chicken wire
a three piece band played away, protected from missiles hurled by
inebriated pongos.
This was the life; we could have got used to it but the day came when we
had to board the lorries again and head back to the desert. The trip,
otherwise uneventful, was marred by an accident; one of the lorries in
the convoy carrying the cooks and their utensils took a corner too fast
and overturned. Two Indian cooks were killed.
During the next two years I was twice detached from Shaiba for short
periods. First of all I was posted to Baghdad where I was billeted in a
camp but by day I was employed in a large private house in Mansoor
Street. Military and local civilian staff worked there. It was
interesting to see the Arab girls arrive daily in western dress and
watch as they left for home in the evening to not very attractive
accommodations where they changed into non-western dress. My original
task was not very important but as they now had a tame draughtsman on
hand other work was found for me and one whole day was taken up with
making small prints of some publication or other. This involved taking
a print frame out in the sun for very short periods and because I would
only be exposed to the sun for seconds at a time I didn't wear my pith
helmet. However during the course of the day the time spent in the sun
was cumulative and later I had to report sick. Obviously I didn't
disclose my foolishness to the MO and so I was diagnosed as having
sand-fly fever, that good old stand-by when they didn't know what was
really wrong with you and I was sent to hospital. I remember having a
temperature of 104°F and I vaguely remember going into and coming out
of delirium. A few days later I started to improve but then contracted
dysentery and so spent another while in hospital. After discharge it was
decided to send me away for a couple of weeks convalescence; I hoped it
would be to the RAF at Habbaniyah where they had air conditioning but
no, I was sent to the YMCA in Baghdad and eventually returned to Shaiba.
The train trip back was interesting. Theoretically I was on my own but
there were many other soldiers on that train and in order to keep
ourselves supplied with cool drinking water we all had our filled
charguls hanging outside the carriage windows using the train's movement
for quicker evaporation. After many miles we came across an unusual
sight; there had been a derailment and rolling stock was strewed
everywhere, blocking the line. A new track had been laid by-passing the
obstruction; as we slowly made our way along this loop most of the
passengers moved to the right side of the train to get a good look at
the damage. When things returned to normal it was discovered that all
the charguls had been removed from the left hand side of the carriages,
railside Arabs knew that we would be occupied gawking and took advantage
of our distraction; they found charguls useful too.
My second posting was to an army assembly plant at An Nasiriyah where
the main job was the uncrating and assembly of those vehicles from the
USA that were to be forwarded to the fighting areas My task there was
insignificant and lasted only about three days. The boss man was a
Colonel D'Albuquerque and he had arranged something that I thought novel
for the army; he set a daily quota for the output of vehicles and when
that target was reached then work finished for the day. A window in his
office was fitted with a cuscus tatty, a poor man's air conditioner
similar to the units fitted to the ambulances; water had to be sprayed
over the unit and whenever his office became a little too warm he would
summon an Indian soldier and using the universal mixed language would
shout, "Pani, Pani, Pumpee, Pumpee," whereupon the Indian would grin and
start pumping.
While I was there a shortage of small springs became apparent and some
assemblies were held up; now the crates invariably held every last item
required to build the vehicles so a kit inspection was ordered; nothing
was found. On further investigation an unusual bed was discovered; the
owner had decided to improve his creature comforts and had diverted the
springs and linked them together to provide a more luxurious charpoy for
himself; his pleasure didn't last very long however, the colonel saw to
that. I left before I could find out what punishment he got.
It was generally accepted that in the army a batman, an officer's
servant, was a volunteer who wanted a softer life and a little more
cash. Not always true. We had an officer who was so unpopular that
nobody wanted the job and since it was infra-dig for a commissioned man
to look after himself one soldier was ordered so to serve. If you doubt
this then you should ask the aforementioned Lafferty who did his best to
get out of this chore but without success. He tried to refuse to take
the cash but was ordered to accept it; he held this job until someone
else could be persuaded to take it on. Of course Lafferty should have
thrown the money away or else given it to a deserving Arab.
At times we were taken off regular duties and given some military
instruction and exercises. Various weapons were discussed, some were
demonstrated and others we had to practice with. One which we only saw
intrigued me, it was a mortar that went by the name of Blacker Bombard,
it had a limited range and fired two types of bombs, smoke and high
explosive; what seemed strange to me was that the lethal range of the
high explosive bomb was greater than the distance that the bomb could be
hurled. We didn't fire that one. We did take our turns at firing a
two-inch mortar, both smoke and high explosive and when we all had had a
go there were a few bombs left over. The sergeant asked if anyone would
like to finish them off and the offer was taken up. There's always one
in every crowd and this lad set the mortar as near vertical as he could
and dropped in a high explosive bomb. The rest of us didn't wait around
but radiated outwards faster than we ever thought possible. Fortunately
near vertical was not really vertical and no injuries ensued.
My rifle which in Britain had been extremely accurate was no longer so
when I retrieved it in Iraq, perhaps it had had a bad sea trip, got
banged around or otherwise warped but it was so much off that I checked
the serial number to be sure; it was mine. To complete the course we
hurled a few Mills bombs, fired a Bren gun, marched around a bit and
behaved as soldiers were supposed to do and then we returned to our more
sedentary duties. The commissioned ranks had also to be kept up to
scratch and a series of tactical exercises was introduced. An assorted
collection of craftsmen, NCO's, a sergeant-major and a lieutenant was
assembled one day together with their vehicles and other paraphernalia;
they set off across the desert to a location that I believe was only a
map reference. After two days the lieutenant had to admit that he was
completely lost and so were they all. He was somewhat upset and said,
"I feel terrible, I ought to shoot myself." and the sergeant-major
enquired, "Then why don't you -- Sir?" The suggestion was not
taken however and a search party later led the group back to base.
Attempts were made to keep us occupied and clubs were formed. There was
the musical appreciation group with its portable gramophone and limited
records, the photographic club again with equipment scarcities, a
current affairs program that naturally kept clear of politically
sensitive subjects, while anyone interested could learn to drive an army
lorry. One enterprising officer tried to revive an interest in calculus
and actually collected a few members though how long the course lasted
is anyone's guess.
Attached to us were some Indian Army troops under British officers; the
make-up was a little unusual, many of the soldiers had been temporarily
released form prison on the understanding that if they served for the
duration of the war they would then become free men. Most of their
crimes were of a political nature, some included murder. They seemed to
have an intense loyalty towards their officers and I encountered them in
the following way; for our sports minded colleagues just kicking a
soccer ball around wasn't sufficiently satisfying, they wanted a
regulation sized pitch marked out. The hard baked sand didn't take
paint very well but discarded engine oil could be used instead. Since I
could measure with a steel tape and knew how to construct right angles
using the three, four, five principle and could count beyond 50 I was
given the pitch proportions and told to get on with it. For help I was
put in charge of six Indians who would hack out the narrow shallow
channels with their picks along string lines that I had laid out and
these they would fill with oil producing very dark lines. There were
six of them all armed with picks and only one of me armed with an empty
rifle. However I was told that they were quite harmless and could be
persuaded to behave under the threat of confiscating their pay books
which would have the effect of breaking their contracts resulting in
their going back to prison. I had no trouble at all, in fact they were
a cheery group quite happy to work.
In the army I came across quite a cross section of humanity, running the
whole gamut of characters. I am reminded of a sergeant-major, a peace
time regular, who discovered one day that things were missing from the
Company Office; he decided to do something about it. In the office
there was a large wicker basket used for laundry and into this he
contorted himself pulling down the lid nearly shut so he could peep out
and identify the thieves. He waited and waited but nobody came in
because the word had got around; eventually he emerged very stiffly,
defeated. Early one morning he had occasion to phone the captain; it
was a wall mounted instrument, he took the receiver off its hook and
stood rigidly to attention facing the mouthpiece; when the captain
answered he snapped a perfectly smart salute and said, "Good morning,
Sir -- I am now saluting you." And then he carried on with whatever
else he had to say.
I forget exactly how it came about but one time when I was in Baghdad I
got roped in for guard duty, this time it was to watch over a prisoner.
The prison was only a tent top surrounded with barbed wire and there was
only one prisoner. It was all very informal, we chatted a bit and he
didn't seem to be at all concerned with his predicament. I asked him
what he was doing there and he said that he was being charged with
theft. "Of what?" I asked. "A jeep," he replied.
Apparently he had acquired a jeep and sold it to an Arab. "For how
much?" I asked. "Four hundred dinars." he answered. At that time the
Iraqi dinar and the British pound were at par. He seemed to be quite
happy, perhaps he had the money stashed away somewhere.
A new item was now added to our kit to improve our lot; to alleviate
some of the discomfort and soreness around our shirt collars due to
perspiration we were issued with scarves puggree, squares of light
cloth, khaki coloured. This was the same material that was wound around
the crowns of our pith helmets; some lads, fashion conscious, decided
not to wear them in the accepted manner and this led to an order being
issued to the effect that 'scarves puggree will be worn loosely around
the neck and not in a triangular cowboy fashion."
Most of us were classified in one of many trades but there were a few
who were not tradesmen and they were classified as general duties and
they could be given any task not requiring any special skill. Three of
these were attached to the Company Office where their main duty seemed
to be making tea. A vacancy occurred in one of the workshops for a
clerical type and I was ordered to take this job on a short term basis,
for about three weeks. I didn't jump at the chance, actually I didn't
think much of the idea but I went. The work was simple, checking parts
in and out of the shop and took in total less than 30 minutes a day and
it was boring, boring. The three weeks stretched into six weeks and
eventually into ten weeks. I complained several times that the job
could be easily done by a general duties type but was constantly fobbed
off. After a while I asked to see the colonel and then the bureaucracy
slowly slipped into gear, my request went upwards from rank to rank
until at last an appointment was made for two weeks hence. The very
morning that I was to see the colonel I was told to get back to the DO
again. When I approached him after going through the rigmarole of
marching in, saluting smartly and agreeing that I was indeed the soldier
he thought I was he said,
"You have a complaint?"
"Yessir."
"You want to return to the Drawing Office?"
"Yessir."
"But I see you are back there already."
"Yessir, this morning"
"Then there doesn't seem to be any complaint now does there?"
"No Sir."
"Now don't think that your return has anything to do with your making
a complaint, it's purely coincidental."
"No Sir, certainly not, Sir." I lied.
"Dismiss." I did so, inwardly fuming at having to take part in
this farce that could have been settled weeks before at a lower level
and which would have saved the colonel from looking so foolish.
Opportunities sometimes allowed us to do something out of the ordinary
and two of us asked if we could spend our two weeks leave in Teheran, in
Iran. Strangely enough permission was granted and we set off in the
evening crossing into Iran at Ahwaz. The journey took about 20 hours
passing through Dizful, Khorramabad, Arak and Qum and countless numbers
of tunnels through the mountain ranges before reaching Teheran. It was
an interesting trip carried out in upholstered luxury. We were billeted
in an army camp but were left to our own devices day and night. After
Shaiba Teheran was a lively bustling city; we did some window shopping
looking at the Russian made Leica cameras that were much cheaper than
but inferior to those made in Germany. There was a plethora of uniforms
about of various branches of various forces of various countries not
counting the wonderful uniforms of the cinema doormen -- quite
confusing; I was saluted several times by Russian soldiers who were
probably just as uncertain as I was.
I was caught out by a British major when I failed to salute him; he
asked me where I was stationed and when I answered "Shaiba." he
enquired, "don't they salute officers there now? They used to when I
was Provost Marshal." I had not worn my greatcoat for ages when I was
in Shaiba and had not polished the brass but it was much colder in
Teheran and I was now wearing it. He eyed the green brass buttons of my
greatcoat with disapproval but let me off with a warning as he realised
that I was on leave from that God-forsaken spot; I think he felt sorry
for me.
We went to a cinema to see Bambi which I had seen before in England but
this was different; the sound track was in English with French
sub-titles and to one side a separate screen about seven feet square
carried the dialogue in Farsi. It was just as well that I had seen it
before because those who could read explained the film to those who
could not and I could hardly hear the sound track for the constant
babble.
Compared to Shaiba the air was cool and crisp and my friend who was a
bit of an amateur astronomer said that under the right conditions the
planet Mercury could be seen with the naked eye and sure enough under a
cloudless sky just after sunset we saw it quite close to the sun's edge;
I've often looked for it but I've never seen it since. The reason for
our choosing Teheran as a vacation centre was that another couple of
members of our group had gone there not long before and spoke of it
approvingly; they had stayed a little longer than we and had climbed, or
partially climbed, Mount Demavend that was about 19,000 feet high. We
had no desire to copy them but spent the best part of a day walking
northwards from Teheran seeing the wide open spaces apparently
uninhabited apart from the occasional local who viewed us with interest
and suspicion as to our intent. In the city one of the main sights was
the railway station, an architectural gem that had been built earlier by
the Germans. Being a carpet weaving centre there were all shapes,
sizes, colours and patterns on display and also for sale, many laid out
on the sidewalks to be walked upon by passers-by which surprised us. I
wasn't too certain about the sanitary arrangements but on many streets I
saw open gutters running between the sidewalk and the road and there
seemed to be ample water run-off from the northern highland. All good
things have to come to an end and after two weeks we caught the train
back to Ahwaz and thence to Shaiba.
For entertainment we had radio programs relayed from Britain but we also
picked up programs emanating from Ahwaz which was under American
control. Rum and Coca Cola sung by The Andrews Sisters was pounded out
at least three times daily. Occasionally boxing was arranged between
ourselves and the Americans to what we would call amateur rules, three
three-minute rounds with a two-minute break between rounds, no referee
in the ring but with the contests bring controlled verbally by an
officer at ringside. The styles of the two countries differed and we
considered ourselves lucky if we won three out of the ten bouts.
Naturally we cheered for our own boxers but were appreciative of any
American who adopted the more upright stance rather than the American
crouch. There were frequent cinema shows and sometimes ENSA parties
visited us on their tours of army bases; twice I recall going to shows
given by touring Russian groups; though the language was unintelligible
to most of us the types of turns given did not require any great
understanding of Russian and their performances were first class. I
usually went along fairly early to grab a reasonable seat and was
frequently annoyed when I was dispossessed by late arriving superiors;
on such occasions I sometimes returned to my billet to read a book or to
go to sleep; I was fairly content in my own company.
The army would not be the army if we did not have visitations at times
by the top brass. I don't remember and I don't think I ever knew who
the officer was who came to inspect our installations; I wasn't much
interested. However the Machine Shop was set up to display our talents
and virtually every machine was to be working, operators were called in
from other jobs where necessary and Johnny Lockett was one such lucky
one. Although he was a skilled man he had been put to work driving an
internal gharri around the base on trivial errands but now he was called
in to stand by a machine that was honing the bores of cylinder blocks
and he was doing just that when the top brass came by. The machine had
been previously set up.
"And what's going on here?" asked top brass.
"Honing cylinder bores Sir".
"I see, and how metal are you removing?"
"Don't know, Sir."
"You don't know! then what are you doing here?"
"Watching, Sir."
"What's your trade?"
"Precision grinder, Sir."
"Precision grinder and you don't know how much metal you're
removing?"
"No, Sir, I was just told to come here and stand by the machine. I
don't think it's cutting anything." Johnny Lockett was not very
popular with his superiors after that and I believe he went back to
driving the internal gharri.
I think it was about July or August 1945 that I was transferred to
Egypt, anyway while we were in transit we read that the Americans had
dropped a super bomb on Japan and the consensus among us was, "There
they go, bragging again," and we put it out of our minds.
We travelled in style this time -- to start with. After WWI two
Australians, seeing the potential, had acquired some vehicles and
started a company, Nairn Transport, to carry passengers and freight
across the Middle East and our party was put on two of their air
conditioned coaches to travel from Baghdad to Damascus. The routes had
been well established by this time and the coaches left the metalled
roads and went across the desert in a fairly straight line from point A
to point B. I was in the second coach following the leader and for a
while all went well; we kept a reasonable distance between us because
our passage stirred up a whirl of loose sand. Of course it had to be
our coach that eventually broke down; our driver honked and honked until
he got the attention of the leader; consultations followed. By-and-by a
tow chain was hitched to one of our front spring shackles and off we
went. With no power we had no air conditioning and the heat became
unbearable so we opened the windows. This was not a good idea because
we were following close, a tow chain's length, behind the other coach
and we were in the minor sandstorm of its wake. Soon our sweaty bodies
were caked with sand and the only respite came when the front spring
shackle gave way and we ground to a halt. Repairs were made and the tow
chain was re-attached, this time to the other front spring shackle.
Many miles farther on this one also gave up the ghost and there were no
more spare parts available for repairs, fortunately a small Arab
settlement was close at hand. It was now night and we waited and waited
until a relief coach reached us and took us uneventfully into Damascus.
The next day we boarded the metre gauge railway train bound for Dar"a.
My memory now fails me; I remember passing the southern end of Lake
Tiberias and arriving at Haifa but I don't know how I got there. From
Haifa we took a train along the coast into Egypt, crossing the Suez
Canal at El Qantara, finishing up eventually at another desolate spot,
No.2 Base Workshops at Tel-el-Kebir.