FIRST DAYS IN EGYPT

Wairarapa Times-Age, 23 March 1940, Page 9

FIRST DAYS IN EGYPT

NEW ZEALANDERS’ CANVAS CITV CAIRO WITHIN VISITING REACH. “GROUSING” OUT OF FAVOUR. The following article was written by Major C. A. L. Treadwell from Egypt on February 19: As J write these lines in my tent in the camp of the Second New Zealand Expeditionary Force, dust—blinding, choking, parching dust—is sweeping in swirls and flurries through our canvas city. A brisk southerly breeze is whisking it in from the arid lands behind us and bringing the first discomfort we have experienced in Egypt. But our Adjutant, who spluttered in the same dust a quarter of a century ago. cries: “Good for you! Toughens your stomachs!” and we grin and bear it. mindful of the clear, cool evening that we feel will inevitably follow the setting of the sun. This “inevitability”’ about the Egyptian weather is one of the things that seem to take the meaning away from lime and make us feel we have been campaigning here in the desert for years, instead of in actual fact spending a very few days in moving into a country that many of us hadn’t given a thought since we closed our school atlases for the last time. The climate is for all the world like early autumn in the Rotorua district or in Central Otago—each blue and gold day giving place to a night with a “tang” in it. cold and clear and refreshing. Romantic desert nights! Well, yes and no. The sun drops, glowing red, behind the pyramids; the crescent moon hangs out its silver lamp; a fighting ’plane drones overhead and is trapped like a moth in criss-crossing searchlights; and the lone sentry on a late shift marvels at the beauty of the night— But I think I can say for all of us that we like it here; a so-called traditional Army pastime known as “grousing” seems to be out of favour. To get a mind picture of our location imagine a narrow strip of green, fertile New Zealand countryside, divided lengthwise by a slow-running river and so placed that it merges into the buildings of a city. The river, of course, is the Nile —the bloodstream of Egypt—and the city is Cairo. On either side of the fertile strip the ground rises gently into undulating downs —but there is no vestige of green, nothing but parched sand and shale. MANY TENTED CITIES. Somewhere in those downs, overlooking the flat Nile valley, lies our bustling city of tents. There are surprisingly many more cities like ours nestling in these wastes, which shelter as well as ourselves, soldiers ’ from England, Scotland and India. Royal Air Force bases, too, are not very distant neighbours, and we like to think that some of the daredevils who somersault over our heads may quite possibly be New Zealand pilots. You would find it quite a long walk from end to end of our camp. Emerging from a charming, tree-shaded residential suburb, you WQuld pass a golf course whose greens and fairways are simply sand rolled hard, and shortly reach the camp limits. And there, spreading over a long flat tract and overflowing on to a low plateau, our city would lie at your feet. Under canvas roofs we sleep comfortably on raised plank beds, with mattresses and pillows. The floors are of sand, but we have found that by conscientiously sprinkling water on them we can evolve a substance more like concrete. In our own particular area, incidentally, there is a basis of solid rock a few inches beneath the surface of the sand, and pneumatic drills had to be used befoi’e tent pegs could be driven home. WASHING FREE OF CHARGE. Although we are again undergoing the experience of occupying an uncompleted camp, we lose little in comfort by that fact. Messing rooms, cookhouses, and washing and shower houses are still in the hands of the builders. We were delighted today to learn that contractors to the Army are to do all our clothes washing free of charge; but we feel that we might hang our heads in shame if a Digger of 1914 were to stand by and see a truck carrying our laundry away. Winter, such as it is in Egypt, is with us at present, and we follow the sun out of bed at half past six in the morning. After washing and shaving in the crisp open air. we breakfast in marquees at 7.30. The Imperial Army scale of rations is somewhat smaller than we have been used to. but the food is good and adequately varied. A hot dinner, with sweets, comes at the end of the day. The units which make up the force have resumed their training programmes during the past day or two. Some have sent parties to various barracks for courses of instruction with English units. A good deal of our transport equipment has been delivered, and the transport sections are learning the tricks of desert driving. We look forward to the day when, no doubt, we shall begin to make excursions into the desert to carry out manoeuvres. Members of our advance party, who left New Zealand some five weeks before we did, have told us how they witnessed the thrilling spectacle of a full division in “war games” on the sand, which was made alive by the movement of hundreds of tanks, trucks and other vehicles so necessary to the modern army’s progress. I VISITS TO CAIRO. As leave has been granted almost every evening since we arrived, there is practically no one who has not visited Cairo, that teeming city of contrasts —ultra-modern stores and countless peddlers, beauty and squalidness—peopled by races from almost every part of the world. There are warm smiles and words of welcome for us in the streets, where after dark our "quaint hats." as one local newspaper put it. can be seen everywhere. Here in the camp we can spend our leisure time at a newly-built picture theatre or in the several canteens operated by the NAAFI (Navy. Army and Air Force Institutes). Prices in general are about the same as we have been used to, but beer may be bought as cheaply as 21 guineas a quart —about sixpence in English money. The end of each day finds us well ready for bed. While you in New Zealand go about your morning tasks, it is time for us to roll in between our blankets with the thought that our

great adventure has at last really begun. AN ACT OF MERCY. There is a story worth repeating which appeared in one of the newspapers a day or two ago. One of their reporters was walking down the street and came upon two diggers and a gharry driver arguing and gesticulating violently. It was clear that neither party could understand the other. The reporter offered his services. The diggers pointed to the two emaciated horses in the shafts of the gharry. They certainly looked as if they might drop any moment from starvation. "We want to buy that bale of lucern on the seat.” “Whut do you want it for?” ask; ed the reporter. "We don’t want it for anything except that if we buy it the driver has to let us feed his horses with it." Then began a 20 minutes bargaining and at last the driver, who clearly thought the diggers were demented, sold his lucerne or berseem for 5 piastres (one shilling). The diggers then carefullj' divided the food and placed half in front of the two poor beasts and there they remained until the horses had swallowed every blade of their unexpected feed. Tha* over, the two soldiers walked away thoroughly pleased with their action. The driver was still scratching his head in bewilderment.