WITH THE EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

Dominion, Volume 8, Issue 2398, 2 March 1915, Page 7

WITH THE EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

PEN PICTURES FROM SEA AND LAND :>V-.''r: ■ ; Tlis following'-extracts are from letters written by Lance-Corporal Noel Ross, who is with tic-New Zealand Expeditionary Force in Egypt:— is something ineffably sad about the. wailing of.the pipes across the water, and it is indeedj wonderful to think that same notes that proclaimed victory or defeat, rejoicing or sadness on. the fields of Cullbden, Pinkie Cleuch', and Bannockbtu-n, are drifting across this space of tropic sea. A piper on a great grey transport across l ~iie Lino is playing 'The Barren. Rocks of Aden,".and the music .gains sweetness with distance. As accompaniment there is the'endless swish of the •water along our hull, and the shrill staccato neighing of - the horse's tunes into an irresponsible obbligato. ■ The piper stops, but from our own forecastle there come the strains of Raff's "Cavatin a," played lingering!?, but with cleverness, by a trooper of the "Mouriteds.'v v . .1

A Floating Town. " night the great fleet, in its four parallel lines showing two lights to each ship, looks like a town of long, straight streets. ' . Far up the starboard line a Morse lamp winks out a message to the flagship anent; certain trivialities dealing with tons of sugar and salt required from the next-port of call. The answer flashes baok something about "all requisitions being made ready four days :before reaching Colombo." Wireless is tabooed. At least, the transports may receive bijt not: send: they are dumb, but not deaf.- As night comes on the extended lines draw in, and far away; ahead, astern, to port and. starboard, four puffs or smoke grow large as the convoy of battleships closes in to protect the fold from the wolk-that might be prowling in these tropic seas. One day, far out on the' horizon, a small puff-ball of smoke topped the horizon. It was scaroely visible before, a cruiser turned about arid went in chase. The smoke vanished,, but'later appeared again with,- the_ investigating ship. It was a great Orient liner, her trim, painted hull and smoke-stacks in strange contrast to the sombre grey cf the troopships. On she came, until, a mile away, we could see the glint of the brasswark on her bridge. _ Then her passengers waved u's greeting as sho passed us, and steamed on up the lines, a magnificent Sight, bearing His Majesty's. malls to the heart of the Empire.- v

The Sporting Instinct. It is the day of the Canterbury Cup, and more than one group discusses the prospects of the entrants. "Kilrain for me, says a burly sergeant of the Transport Corps, and immediately: there is a babel -of Argument as to the merits of the horse. ' Some of us, doubtless, will naVer know the winner of the Cap, but bets are exchanged "to be paid when ;we get' tha New Zealand: paperß at 'Aldershot' or Salisbury Plain." It's a harmless make-believe, this idea, that our ties with home are broken, and it is to:be encouraged rather than ridiculed. It is the. same spirit that sets the British.. "Tommy", on the battlefield of Le Mons discussing the prospects of the "Hotspurs" or the' "Wanderers" in the Cop-final, the.'while the shrapnels play, up the dust in front.- of) the trenches. : ' And doubtless our men will fcep, it with them even when they get their turn to pump lead at the legions of the .War I^cL . Ocean.Scenes. We are over the Line, and well on our way to the shores of Ceylon. Far off in tae heavy evening clouds of lightning flashes.,. I t is queer ligntning— something like that' associated with melodrama —and the clouds are like painted. scenery. The. sunset is flamboyant, and tlie colours change with kaleidoscopic quickness from pale opalescent greens and.greys to scarlet and vermilion. The sombre, grey troopships look out of place in this magnificent setting, like Puritan elders at the Court of "Le Roi SoleiL" The New Zealand transports and three of the Australian ships have gone on ahead, and far behind them hangs a great pall of black smoke, -where.. the Jap. is leading the other thirty-one transports. Yesterday a-great grey hull shot over •the horizon, and a- merchant cruiser came racing towards us, a magnificent three-funnelled C.P.R. boat, with Cruiser -stern and a fiddle bow. , She -was identified as the Empress of Russia, and she passed us so closely that one could see ner 4.7 guns forward and aft. On. she, raced at a speed of well 'over twenty knots, and she was gone before many of us could duck below for our. glasses. She is undoubtedly bound for the Cooos Islands to pick up the wounded and prisoners, the fruit of the dash between the Sydney and t'h'e Emden. She is even more imposing than ottr battleships, this merchantman, with Jier beautiful' lines and grey painted bull—a wonderful example of modern flhipjjuilding. ' : ;

An Impressive Burial. There have been many burials at sea, but, perhaps, never such an impressive one as the burial of John Gilchrist, who died on the Ruapehn. The funeral took place in mid-ocean and the whole fleet of transports hove to while the service was Tead and the body committed to the sea. From far across the water came the sad notes of the' "Last Post," and the flag on the Buapehu'a stern pole was mast-headed again as the convoy resumed its long journey. Poor Gilchrist, he gave all he could for his country, but somehow, as one man nut rt to me, "he didn't have much of a run for, his money." A Cosmopolitan Army. 'A cosmopolitan army this, banded together by the queerest sentiment —a sentiment .that only an Englishman can understand. Almost thirty thousand men, "cook's son, duke's sons" are crossing the fourteen thousand miles uepardting Our Antipodes from the Mother Land. They enlisted from station, farm steading, office desk, the 'doctor's surgery, the university, and the shearing shed. Thirty thousand men. representing every walk of life, on. forty ships answering an abstract fcafl which many could scarcely define. They know nothing of the mighty forces' that carry them_ into the Ar-' maigeddon. -Diplomacy. is~& word to most of them; and their only- idea is •that.from them help is dne; their only fconviotion that the cause they serve is a right one. Down below in the big mess room, its marble panelling masked by uncrossed boards, two hundred and fifty men are scraping their tin plates and 'draining tin mugs, waited on by forty of their fellows. A bank teller and an auctioneer are ..serving out the porridge to one mess. At .another ' an erstwhile auctioneer and • a Canterbury nmholder ladle out the stew. In the DesertHere I am in the old Lyhian Desert Siting m my tent writing, while outfelo camels, donkeys, and mules lope ijyast in endless procession to the tune hf weird Arabic cries that sound a little akin to Maori. There are about 2000 tents in this lingo camp—the camp of the fraliind Division—and all day Jong animals, guns, and gun 'teams,' Army Service wajons, and motorcars pass our tent, which fronts the luaih road of the camp. Ostensibly we are here for training, but in reality we are here to protect English interests in the new protectorate. A week ago the whole division, cavalry, guns, transport, infantry, lock- stock, ' and bar-;

rel, marched through Cairo. We left camp at 8 a.m. and marched until 3.30 p.m. with two stops of only ten minutes each. Altogether we went/over twenty miles, and perhaps none of us will ever havo a more extraordinary march in our lives. First of all we marchcd through the new town of Heliopolis, built on the site of the ancient city. ! The column was übout five miles long. Our regiment looked great, and we swung' along to the tune of "A Hundred fipere"—our march. We reached ! the outskirts of Cairo, where are the Belgian and i'rencb colonies, and theif our band struck up the "Marseillaise." The route was lined with Belgians and I'rench people—they crowded the sidewalks and filled every, window. The Tricolour, the Belgian flag, and the. British fluttered from every balcony, j and the people went wild.' "Vive Nouvelle Zelande!" | As 60cn as the strains of the French National Anthem started the men stiffened up and marched with a new step. The cheers and the applause deafened one, and unaccustomed thrills ran down my spine and in and out amongst the i little hair I bave left after an "Army cut." "Vive Nouvelle Zealande. . Vive K.eeng Jorge!" and "Bravo Mes Braves" 6ounded on every side. It was wonderfully inspiriting. -Then we came to the city proper, and marched up the main street in front of Shepherd's Hotel. Here the English faces replaced the French, and wives of officers and tourists called • out _in appreciation. Someone who recognised our regiment called "Well done, Canterbury, and immediately the cry was taken up and the words "Canterbury Regiment' ran up and down the side-walk. The Egyptians don't cheer, but they clap loudly, and all along-tins route we were applauded.' Opposite the Ghekieh Gardens, by the statue of Ibrahim Pasha, Sir John Maxwell, the Commander-in-Chief in Egypt, stood with his staff to take the salute.- At the words "Eyes right" every head was turned as if they were all pivoted together, and we swung past in great style.

i The sullen Mousky. Then came a change, and we entered the native quarter, the "Mousky," or old Cairo. This was essentially a display of force, and we marched through ail the native streets —streets so yarrow that the infantry, four abreast, filled them from side to side. Here there was no applause, and, often, under the white turban or red tarboosh, a sullen look met our eyes. Oftener still the faces were impassive, almost uninterested. On we went through streets where Europeans do not venture, even with guides, past the queer open shops where coppersmith, tailor, saddler, and gunsmith squatted at their trades. The native women peered at us through their latticed windows, or.drew their yashmaks closer aoross their faces. For .two hours we marched through this teeming, stinking warren, until at last we came to a great gate, 1200 years old, with trophies of olden days hung in chains above the great bronze door. At last we got back to camp, . somewhat tired, and with the weird colours, smells, -and sounds still affecting our eyes, noses, and ears. Our training has been strenuous and continuous. We are on no picnic, but leave is frequent and general.. Every night until 10 p.m. there is leave, and nearly everyone takes advantage of it to go to Cairo. ' The Mosque of Hassan. The week before last we filled in a day going over the mosque of Sultan Hasßan, built 900 years ago I It is. marvellous, but Napoleon collared practically everything of value from it when he occupied Cairo a hundred years ago. _ The mosque itself is a huge .building with the usual, dome! flanked by two wonderful minarets,' from which the "Muezzin" is sounded by the priests in charge of the Muezzin department. There were once 365 lamps of gold and silver. Now only five remain. The covetous and übiqultouß Napoleon took the 360. He also removed all the big bronze doors Bave one, but this one is magnificent. .It.is at least 18 feet high, and 8 feet broad, and it is actually inlaid in gold and silver, with verses from the The huge keyhole iB outlined in gold itilay, and the key is gold and silver. From the roof of the, dome and the Prayer Court'hang the 365 chains despoiled of their lamps, and the wonderful tesselated pavement is worn smooth with the bare feet of thousands of devout worshippers. In the walls are niches Built in inlaid stones, amongst which are great pieces of- turquoise and cornelian. Here, too, is the grave of the builder of the mosque. It, is - extraordinarily unpretentious. A plain stone slab marks his last resting place beneath the great dome, and on it is an Arabic inscription saying that the dead man beneath built and worshipped in this mosque. A few feet away is the original throne of the Sultan Hassan. It is of wood, but at one time it-- was inlaid with ivory and .encrusted' with all manner of precious stones, and one can see where they were rudely torn from their settings by the acquisitive Emperor of the French. This old wooden chair, made 90.0 years ago, is said to bring alj that one ivants if one sits in it and wishes; So four of us in succession sat in it and solemnly wished for what we wanted most.- It was a queer little ceremony, and the priest who showed us round was so sincere that' he refused backsheesh and tools great pains to let us know that anything we wished would come true. "I know it," he said, "four times have 1 made pilgrimage to Mecca, and the virtue of this chair helped me on my way.". Ths Treasures of the Mosque; : Then by a special favour we were shown the treasure of treasures, the books of the Sultan Hassan and his wife. They are kept in the gTeat building opposite which contains the tombs of the Khedives and their families. These two books are almost 1000 years old. _ There is not the least doubt as to their authenticity, and it was only a year or two ago that they were found in a-secret cupboard in. the mosque by some workmen who were making repairs. _ The Sultan's book bears an inscription, on the first page to say that it was written personally by the Sultan. It -is a copy of the Koran, and the colours and gilding are as fresh as if they had scarcely dried on the thin paper leaves. He was a great illuminator, this old Sultan Hassan, his work in the margins, the lettering and ornamentation, is magnificent. ■ He also illuminated the book for his wife, and it is done in delicate tnauves and orange tints blending miraculously. These books almost seem to breathe the magnificence of the times and the splendid ritual of this old religion. When the priest lifted the oovers from thfEO pricoless relics he reverently kissed their pages, and motioned us to' stand back. There, too, is the tremendous catafalque of the late Khedive. and round it are_ four silver candlesticks eight feet high,_ ond of most magnificent workmanship.

The New Sultan. By good fortune I was able to see the Sultan last week making an official call on one of. the princesses at Gezireh. The road was lined with native police, and presently the Sultan's equipage came in sight. Ahead of the carriage rode a magnificent squadron of 20 Egyptian lancers, sunerbly mounted, all on white Arabs. The men_ have sky-blue Uniforms, with white facings and silver braiding. The horses are a revelation, and dress their ranks by taking fjaces, rigbt- or left, like infantry. • We stood stiffly at attention, and our salute was cheerfully acknowledged by tile Sultan as he descended from his carriage. By-fhe-way, when he drove up all - traffio was atorroedi and ouah-carts, donkey-

carta, cab 6, and tramcars all were halted. A Night Watch in the Desert. The desert is extraordinary, and we have seen it from all points of view. We've marched miles and miles over it. We've slept out on it, and we've crawled acrosß it on our stomachs in daylight and dark. We've dug it up and made trenches in it, and we'vo eaten it with our dry rations. 'It's all damn rot at first, this mystery of the desert; but, later, when you get out on outpost at about 2 a.m., and the utter stillness makes itself felt, you realise that thero is something in it. | The other night I was in charge of a picket, and after we bad dug ourselves m and posted our sentries I lay awake and shivered, 1 The nights aro extraordinarily cold and the dews are heavy. Sounds come from far across the desert, and from the direction of Cairo the noise of the electric oars could be heard distinctly.- Presently this stepped,and I could hear the beat of a' bat's swings as it fluttered past. A lizard ran over my feet and scuttled away into the darkness, astonished, and then the moon came up over the far sand dunes, flooding the dismal scene with wnn cold light. ' Some animal, a fox, I think, approached warily, and, as the sentry changed 'bis position, scuttled _ away into the hills. The sentry whispered ■low, and pointed to where a long line of what looked like thorn bushes seemed to move towards us. Later they took ehape, and tHe khaki-clad figures became more distinct as we fell back on the outpost where the men were standing to arms in the trenches. An Ancient Scarab. On Sunday I filled in a morning by grubbing in some old tombs just a few hundred yards from tie camp. They are supposed to be at least 2QOO years old, and the ground is fairly riddled with them. There is a big stone slab on top and then a shaft, about ten or twelve feet deep. The burial chambers open off the shaft, and in one of these I found this scarab. It is a very fine specimen, and I was offered first' five shillings and then a pound for it. by a dealer in Cairo. The inscription is well cut, and the scarabaeus itself most life-life. It is over 2000 years old', ani_as I found it myself in the tomb you may be certain that it is genuine. Keep it for luck.