DESERT POLICEMEN

Shannon News, 26 October 1926, Page 3

DESERT POLICEMEN

WORK OF THE IRAK PATROL. MODERN ADVENTURES. A new generation is growing up. a generation which has it own heroes and refuses to be thrilled by the exploits of Robin Hood or the magnificent adaptability and inventiveness of the Swiss-Family Robinson, writes J. S. Bainbridge in Overseas. For the years onwards from 1914 have provided a new school of heroes, complete with wireless and aircraft; and beside the exploits of Laurence of Arabia, of Captain Robinson, V.C., of the volunteers who at Zeebrugge made St. George's Day a real national anniversary, the domestic worries of Maid Marian are as tame as a pre-sent-day legal American cocktail. And so perhaps the story of Captain Buddolph and the Irak Desert Patrol, the latest adventure in the "Arabian Nights Entertainments," will strike a chord in the imaginations Of many youthful dreamers. It has often been said that the Battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton —the phrase is now almost more than a platitude — but it is an undoubted fact that our public schools produce men who are capable of acting as real Empire builders, men who are, physically, morally, and mentally capable of inspiring confidence and affection and of guiding and governing those over whom they are placed with due regard to the needs of all. So " far as can be judged, Captain Buddolph is true to type, and is carrying out his duties as commander of the Desert Patrol according to the best traditions. The Arabian Nights. It its the duty of the Desert Patrol to guard the road from Bagdad to ( Aleppo, that romantic road of the "Arabian Nights Entertainments" which creeps from Bagdad through the Syrian Desert through Hit and Deir-ez-Zor, until it reaches the gates of Aleppo. The names alone are sufficient to bring to the minds of the * stay-at-homes visions of the vast desert spaces and eerie black nights, whose silence is broken only by the peculiar grumblings issuing from, tethered camels, the distant monotonous chant of a native entertainment, with its aueer and oft-repeated emphasis placed on the same notes and the even more distant howling of the jackals. With a little imagination —and only a little is needed —one can picture the old-time caravan, richly laden with spices and gorgeous cloths and silks, pciking its leisurely ™ay along the road, bordered by thr of earlier venturers, with itf attendant guard always on the alert for desert raiders. Many and many a time the spices and silks did not reach their destination. A sudden cry of alarm, and down would sweep a band of Bedouins, who would demolish the caravan and return to their desert lair richly laden with spoils. His Purse-and-Hi* SATe.

Even so short a time as twelve years ago any one who ventured down the Bagdad-Aleppo road risked both his purse and his life. It was still the happy hunting ground of every Bedouin sheik who felt compelled to repeat the raiding exploits of his ancestors. Now, thanks { to Captain Buddolph and his little force of desert policemen—who are only ninety all told —the desert road is probably a good deal safer than Piccadilly or Regent Street. The long road is open for motor and other traffic. There is an occasional outburst of raiding, cars being held up and the occupants compelled to hand over their valuables, and, at times, even their clothes; but very rarely does such a raid go unpunished. Sooner or later, although the raiders have an immense area in which they can get lost, a small band of the Desert Patrol will track them down and hand them over to the authorities at Bagdad.

The police are recruited mainly from the Nejd, the land of the Wahabis, but not all the members of the Patrol consist of these powerful and bearded sons of the Prophet. Some the earth, such as a Russian Cossack, for example, who left his village near the Caspian when he was seventeen, and who has been fighting in different parts of the world ever sinse. Before he joined the Irak Patrol he had spent three days and nights in the desert without food or water, a deserter from the French Foreign Legion because, he said, "The Cossack is a free soldier, and the French Legion is only a dog." The Work of the Desert Patrol.

It is dfficult to obtain details of the work of the Desert Patrol, but such details as can be secured remind one very forcibly of the reputation of the Canadian North-West Mounted Police. There is the same daring, prestige, and ability to follow up long and arduous trails. Recently patrols? of-these ment set out from Ramadi on a long trek for the purpose of running to earth a murderous gang of brigands who had "shot up" a car on one of routes. For two hundred miles of desert they followed up their quarry, visiting the tribes and questioning them on the way. ...Little by little, small pieces of desert news were put together and produced a clue, which finally led to the arrest of the brigands. They were so utterly exhausted that they Confessed everything; even the whereabouts of the booty, afterwards found sewn into the stuffing of a donkey's saddle. That is an example of the kind of work the Desert Patrol is called upon to undertake, but it is the leadership and inspiration of Captain Buddolph, head of this, romantic team of thief catchers, which makes success possible and the road from Bagdad to Aleppo safe for the more humble travellers.