MERSA MATRUH AGAIN IN

New Zealand Listener, Volume 3, Issue 57, 26 July 1940, Page 2

MERSA MATRUH AGAIN IN

THE NEWS

(By

O.A.

G.

WO hundred miles west of Alexandria lies Mersa Matruh, a com-fortably-sized and sheltered dent in the Mediterranean’ coastline which, since the last war, has become one of the strongest fortifications against an attack on Egypt from Libya. During recent weeks it has become an objective for Italian *planes, whose bombs have dropped there almost daily. Mersa Matruh appeared in the news for a brief period during the last war when the Ist Battalion of the New Zealand Rifle Brigade was "blooded" there in action against the Senussi on Christmas Day, 1915, At that time falling bombs would have done little damage. Not one wharf or jetty broke the even line of the sandy, shelving beaches; only one airplane took the air-and that was on our. side; only on rare occasions did more than one small ship anchor in the mile-wide harbour, Apart from our tents there were only a few humble buildings

which formerly did duty as a barracks for the Egyptian coastguards. Except for the harbour (which was as richly blue as any of the products of Mr. Reckitts), a tiny mosque and a few ancient date palms, Mersa Matruh was a grim and desolate spot. From the crest of the line of low hills which encircles the basin of the harbour stretches a vast panorama of the same sort of country over which British units must now be fighting as they attack Italian forts along the Libyan frontier. Those hills, by the way, make an admirable defence line. There is little vegetation. Tiny clumps of salt-bush, greenish grey and brown, cover some of the flat stretches of desert, All else is rock and sand, stretching far into the interior of Africa and broken only by gullies and low hills. Here and there, where the rainfall of centuries has carried the earth into valleys between the rocks, wandering Senussi tribes grow small quantities of barley. Round the wells along the coast small tribes have erected their crude villages and here a few date palms raise their tufted heads and fig trees struggle for sufficient moisture to lead a stunted existence. For nearly three months we made expeditions through that bleak and inhospitable territory, using horse-drawn vehicles and camels for transport. The whole of the coast-line of that part of Egypt is dented with "mersas," for "mersa" is the native name for anchorage. Almost every other place name on the map begins either with "bir" or "wadi." The first means a well, or cistern, for water is a precious commodity in that region, and "wadi" is merely ‘the native name for a gully or dry watercourse. During the time the New Zealanders were stationed at Mersa Matruh our drinking water had to be transported from Alexandria by boat, so that we had a strict ration when we went on expeditions into the desert. On those occasions we were accompanied by a battalion of Sikhs who were always followed by bearers carrying tins of water; two tins @ man, borne on an old-fashioned yoke across the shoulders, For days those fellows followed their unit over the desert, for their religion demands that a white man’s shadow must never fall across a Sikh’s food or drink, Great Changes But great changes have taken place at Mersa Matruh since the New Zealanders and other units of a small British force used it as a base from December 1915 until operations ceased with the capture of Sollum by the South Africans early in 1916. After the war it became a fashionable watering-place for the residents (Continued on next page)

(Continued from previous page) of Cairo and Alexandria, for the harbour is safe and sheltered, the beach ideal, and the climate bracing. Hotels were built, along with the usual casinos and places of entertainment for visitors. No doubt there were expeditions into ‘the desert to Bir Shola and Wadi Majid, where we made our first contacts with the enemy and tasted real fighting for the first time. To-day, however, no visitors swim in the harbour or, lie on the sandy beach. Mersa Matruh, in recent years, has become a vast airport and naval base and the terminus of a railway line from Alexandria, following the old caravan route along the coast. Wharves and jetties have cut up the sandy beach on to which we leaped from H.M.S. Clematis when we arrived there in 1915. Warships lie at anchor in the harbour, along with oil tankers. ‘Planes zoom overhead, watching for movement on the desert towards the Libyan frontier, or signalling the result of operations as British expeditions make their way to strategic points. New Zealanders now stationed in Egypt may once more find their way to this important post on the Mediterranean shore. Thus the cycle of years has brought great activity back to Mersa Matruh, In the year 331 B.C., history records that Alexander the Great landed there on his way to consult the Oracle at Siwa, before founding the town of Alexandria. Siwa is an oasis in the desert, about 180 miles inland, which we always hoped to reach but never did, getting no nearer than Halazin, where we defeated the Grand Senussi and his forces on the open desert. There, in a fertile area, 30 miles long by three miles wide, many fresh water wells have made their country bloom and produce great quantities of fruit, especially dates. For 300 years after Alexander’s visit little was heard of Matruh. Then it be-

came famous again, this time as one of Cleopatra’s pleasure resorts, known to the ancients as Paraetorium. While we were stationed there we found evidence of former occupation, and frequently came upon pieces of sculptured pillars and broken pottery. This was all that remained of the former glory of Cleopatra’s palace (where she is said to have entertained Marc Antony). A small and dilapidated mosque has been built in recent times, but any worshippers had fled long before our arrival. A near-by well and three ancient date palms looked as though they might well have belonged to Cleopatra’s epoch. By Camel For centuries the only means of communication through that desolate country was by caravan, carrying dates and salt from Siwa and merchandise from Cairo and Alexandria to tribes scattered about the coastal districts. Authors have given us romantic pictures of such caravans and their merchandise, but contact with a war-time camel corps completely destroyed my illusions. The smell from those patient and ungainly "ships of the desert" is immense and memorable. On our last trek along the coast, which was to have ended with an attack on Sollum, close beside the Libyan frontier, we were accompanied by a corps of 900 camels, carrying sufficient supplies. and ammunition to last us for several weeks. They made a picture as magnificent as any ancient expedition as they moved three abreast, but they were at their best in the distance — and away from the wind. No doubt there are smooth military roads radiating from Mersa Matruh since it has become such a vital base, and most of the camels will have been replaced by motor trucks and other mechanical units, but in essentials it will still remain the bare and inhospitable country we knew during the last war.