AT PEACE IN THE DESERT

New Zealand Listener, Volume 13, Issue 314, 29 June 1945, Page 6

AT PEACE IN THE DESERT

A Visit To Alamein Cemetery

Written for "The Listener"

by

A. B.

DIXON

JS EAVING behind the crowds and the traffic of Alexandria . we headed west along the coast road through a much less densely. populated area where crops were the main feature in the landscape. But as we advanced, the crops became fewer and fewer until only fig trees, spaced out on the sand, and the mud shelters of their attendants remained as signs of life. Soon these too disappeared as the truck followed the ups and downs of the road through barren desert country where lumps of sandstone, in varying sized pieces, lay singly or in piles at both sides of the road. Drums which had brought the bitumen for the road surface stood or lay haphazardly just off the road and showed at intervals all along the route.| At first obstructing features did not allow an extensive view all around but as we went further west the ground became more level and we could catch more and more frequent glimpses of the near-by Mediterranean which lay, to the north» a sparkling blue behind a screen of white sand dunes, Between us and the sand dunés and also to the south and ahead lay desert country. Mile after mile the truck rattled on over bitumen, now corrugated by the heavy traffic it has had to carry, while the rather desolate aspect was enlivened here and there by traces of camps used by units of the 8th Army nearly two years before. These traces showed periodically and took various forms. Tins of all descriptions rusting amongst the lumps of sandstone or on the desert sand. Deserted ablution stands near disturbed ground which showed where tents had stood: the tent-peg holes still visible. Rusty barbed wire in sagging lines

and dropped coils. Minefields, now inside barbed wire enclosures, marked "Danger," emphasised by a "skulleand crossbones." A few destroyed vehicles. But these traces are growing dim as the inexorable desert is helped by the passing of time. * * BOUT two hours after leaving Alexandria a truck stopped and a strange quiet was felt as the noise of the engine died away. "This is it," said someone. We clambered down from the back of the big truck, thankful to be able to stretch cramped muscles, and looked around. A quick look showed two signposts beside the main road. One said "Alamein," and the other, which pointed south down a road at right angles to the main road, "Alamein Cemetery." There was no sign of life except ourselves. This puzzle was solved later when we learnt that the main battle area had been a few miles further west and saw the cemetery on going down the branch road; there is no village there. But that first quick look showed only the coast road p ast round bends both east and west of where we stood, surrounding desert, and the Mediterranean behind sand dunes to the north. A second, more careful, look still showed the coast road and desert but let us appreciate the sparkling blue of the sea, the dazzling white sand dunes, and the vastness of the depression into which the branch road dipped from the higher feature along which the coast road ran. * > * \VE set off on a branch road which soon descended towards the depression, seen more clearly now like a huge plain dotted with small bushes growing close /

to the desert for a miserable existence. The road ended abruptly. Before us we®* could see the plain stretching for miles south, east and west. On our left lay the cemetery, running parallel with the coast road but hidden from it’ by the slope of the ground. We turned left and stood to take a comprehensive view of the cemetery, which stretched out before us on level ground, neatly arranged in plots. There were no trees or flowers; instead of grassy strips round the graves there was desert sand. Spotless white ) , standing like sentinels one at of each grave, showed at a glanee the area the cemetery covered, While unfinished plots, where men had been working in the cooler hours of the day, showed how the area was being extended. We approached the nearest plot, which the inscriptions showed contained men from New Zealand. In this cemetery, where the countries represented have their own distinct plots, men from New .Zealand lie in a plot with other New Zealanders and make that plot like a corner of New Zealand in a strange land. And the cemetery as a whole is a unity because, although it contains men of different countries, they were all part of the same army fighting for a ‘ common cause. * ® * JE wandered meditatively along the path looking at the carefullyarranged graves with their white crosses telling of the men who had fallen, some known personally, White sandstone bricks outlined the graves, white sandstone chips mingled with sand had been (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) carefully placed upon them, and separating each grave from its neighbour was @ little strip of sand. There was a quiet dignity about it all. Here there is no feeling of desolation or sorrow. A hint of sadness perhaps, treading the printed inscriptions and thinking of the men who lie there. But as you wander round. other plots a deeper feeling than sadness is felt. A feeling which is born out of many impressions felt there, : That day a warm, soothing breeze came from the west, fanning our cheeks and speaking of past battles. It caressed each grave as it passed without disturbing the sand. In the heat of the day that soft breeze coming over the silent desert seemed to lessen the glare from the white crosses and white sandstone and brought with it an intangible, indefinable feeling of calm, of peace, of immortality. It emphasised the stillness. That feeling lingered with us while we wandered round other plots and even after we had returned to the branch road for a last look at the cemetery spread out before us. The scene became a mental picture of these lines of sleeping men who had a warm breeze softly caressing their sand, a blue sky above, the unseen but remembered blue Mediterranean north of them behind white sand dunes, and in the very vastness of the silent, protecting desert all around them a sure haven and a certain rest and peace which words cannot convey but which one can feel so strongly standing there. BPPBPPREEPR LEAL LPR OOL LILA ALP