CHAPTER XXXII

ALEXANDRIA, 23RD JUNE, 1917--ISMAILIA--BELAH--DESERT TRAINING--GAMBLI AND TEL EL FARA--EL SHAULTH--PREPARATIONS FOR THE PALESTINE OFFENSIVE

Alexandria was reached on the midnight of the 22nd June, 1917, and every one was pleased to get rid of the ever-present encumbrance on board troopships--the life belt, which brought back memories of the _Transylvania_. What a glorious sunrise we witnessed, the harbour with its white buildings gave us a feeling that we had at last again reached civilisation after our sojourn in the wilds of Macedonia. Disappointment, however, was keen when no leave ashore was granted, and only a few officers on duty were allowed on the Docks. Lieutenant Lewis and the writer however, under the pretext of purchasing food for the officers’ messes, spent a pleasant afternoon in the town and honoured “Groppi’s Tea Shop” with our presence, only to return to the boat to find a train alongside with half of the battalion already entrained. Early in the evening the Battalion started on its journey to Ismailia on the Suez Canal. Every one enjoyed the scenery of the Nile Delta while daylight lasted, and the beauty of the Egyptian sunset appealed to all. Descriptions of Egypt are to be found in many books, and I need hardly spend any time in this short history to describe it, sufficient to say that the Battalion thoroughly enjoyed the train journey and the excitement of being in a strange land made us forget the war.

Just after midnight the train pulled up at Ismailia and the desert was struck for the first time. The moon was bright, making night like day, and under the leadership of camp guides the Battalion marched through the heavy sand for about a mile or so and were soon allotted their lines in a huge base camp. Tea, as usual, was soon made and partaken of. Every one then retired to their tents and soon fell asleep; here was a land, at last, where blankets were not absolutely essential. However, dawn is early in these latitudes, and the sun shone down with considerable fierceness from about 5 a.m. The oppressive heat of the tents soon woke every one, to say nothing of the heavy hum of the aeroplanes from the local aerodrome, which flew so low that they missed the tent tops by a few feet, much to the dismay of the occupants. Flying cannot be carried out with such security in the heat of the day in Egypt, owing to the numerous air pockets, and during our stay at Ismailia reveille each morning was heralded by the heavy drone of these planes.

Ismailia, a small town on the Suez Canal, has a considerable French population, connected with the canal company. The town is very clean, even in the native quarters, while palm groves and tropical gardens furnish a relieving contrast to the surrounding desert of yellow sand. During the war it became the Base of the Australian Imperial Forces and also contained a large British Ordnance Depot. The main railway line from Port Said to Suez passed through the town, and on the east lay the large lakes of Timsah which form part of the Suez Canal. Leave passes into the town were granted, and this freedom was greatly appreciated by the men; for since the days of Katerina we had not even been encamped near a village. Officers were invited as honorary members of the French Club which provided excellent luncheons and dinners at a reasonable cost. The place was crowded each evening and jolly times were spent there. Leave as far as Cairo and Alexandria was granted, and parties left daily for three days in one of these cities. A certain amount of training was carried out in the early morning and in the evening. The men in their pith helmets and “shorts” soon became acclimatised and accustomed to the terrific heat of the sun. Bathing parades in the lakes were held daily, and on the whole our stay at Ismailia was most enjoyable. At the end of July the Battalion moved by road as far as Kantara.

It was only a few days after our arrival at Ismailia that the Transport Section, minus horses, limbers, mules, etc., joined us from Salonica. They had left on board the _Cestrian_, and while at sea had been torpedoed and landed on the island of Mudros.

The following eye-witness story by the Transport Officer, Lieutenant T. W. Pearson, gives a short description of the sinking of the _Cestrian_:--

“The Battalion and part of the transport personnel sailed for Egypt a few days before the main body of the transport. The remainder of the transport received orders to load and embark on the _Cestrian_, on the 23rd of June, 1917. In addition to ourselves, with our limbers and animals, the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry and a Divisional S.A.A. column sailed on the boat; in all about 980 men and 960 animals.

“While we were loading, a German plane came over, but it flew at such a height that no one took much notice of it, but afterwards we thought it may have had something to do with the loss of the _Cestrian_.

“The Staff Veterinary Officers commented very favourably on the condition of our animals.

“We eventually sailed about 9.0 p.m. in the evening, under glorious conditions; all the men and animals having comfortable berths. We were escorted by two destroyers, and these sailed on either side. We were about 12 or 13 hours out of Salonica early on Sunday morning, the 24th June, having just been dismissed from boat drill, and all was peaceful and the water as smooth as a billiard table, when suddenly the boat gave a terrible lurch; the water around was churned up and shot to a great height on the starboard side. We had been torpedoed right amidship and the torpedo had struck the boilers, and soon every one was drenched with the sooty water which had been forced out of the funnels, and a funny looking lot we were.

“Part of the torpedo was forced on the upper deck. It was a terrible shock to all, as there was no warning whatever, but no one lost his head, every one went quietly to his respective boat station, without any panic. One of the life-boats allotted to us was broken up by the explosion, and, as an example of the coolness of our men, one of the fellows calmly produced a pocket camera and took snapshots of the damage.

“Nobody was allowed to go down below to the animals, though we could hear them screaming. If the incident had occurred about half an hour later we should have been below at stables and probably there would have been many more casualties. Fortunately, the casualties were confined to the ship’s crew below. I heard that one had been killed and several seriously wounded and scalded.

“Within a few seconds, one of the destroyers was alongside and commenced transferring the men from the wreck aboard her by means of ropes and rope ladders, and while this was taking place she was firing at 1,000 yards range at the periscope of the Hun, and is believed to have made a hit. The second destroyer was circling around at full speed to keep the submarine from reappearing. Many of the men jumped overboard on the port side, but all were saved by the second escort. The wireless was soon busy, and in a very short time help came from all directions. The _Cestrian_ did not sink at once, but was towed to within a few miles of land when she suddenly went down with all animals on board. It is thought that she would have been towed in safely except for the fact that so many port-holes had been left open.

“The men were landed at Mudros, which was one of the islands used as a base depot during the Dardanelles campaign. We were a queer-looking crowd when we landed; some with nothing on their feet; others just in shirts and trousers; I don’t think anyone was fully dressed. The staff on the island were wonderfully kind, and did all that was possible to make us comfortable. Within half an hour of landing at Mudros, all were billeted and were comfortably housed. The A.S.C. officials were very prominent and had rations out to the men in a very short time. During our stay here, the Y.M.C.A. deserves great praise, they got all manner of things for the men free of charge, and organised concerts. They did so well that I believe many of the men wrote home to their parents to send a subscription to the Y.M.C.A. We were on the island for just a week when we were picked up by a boat from Salonica proceeding with troops of our own Brigade (London Scottish) for Egypt. We arrived in Alexandria minus our transport. I regret to say that the Battalion never had such good animals again all the time in the Palestine campaign as those which we had lost on the _Cestrian_. On arrival in Egypt the Battalion had to have the ‘cast offs’ from the other Battalions in the Division who were reducing their strength, and, naturally, they handed to us all their ‘duds,’ and you never saw such ‘clothes racks’ as they were. How the transport ever kept up with the Battalion on trek in Palestine I don’t know. As time went on, however, we were able to make exchanges with the Remount Department and got rid of some of our worst.”

To return to the doings of the Battalion in Egypt. Their stay at Kantara, which had by this time developed into an immense base for the Egyptian Expeditionary Force, was only for a day, and they were soon on the train bound for the Palestine Front. This desert railway across the Sinai Peninsula for over a distance of 150 miles was one of the finest engineering feats of the war. Early in the war the British garrison had jealously guarded Egypt by means of outposts along the Suez Canal, and frequent raids on this defensive line were made by the Turks. It was, therefore, decided to push the line right out into the desert, and under the pressure of the Australian Mounted units, the Desert Mounted Corps and certain Infantry Divisions, the Turk was forced north, and when the Battalion joined the E.E.F. the firing line was just south of Gaza and running inland to Sheik Nuran on the south-east, generally speaking along the line of the Wadi Ghuzze. The whole of this advance from the Canal to Gaza had been made over the trackless waste of the Sinai Peninsula desert. In order to provide rations, stores and ammunition to the advancing troops a railway was laid by the Royal Engineers, ably assisted by working parties of the Egyptian Labour Corps of natives. The railway was kept up to the advancing troops at each step forward, and in order to provide water a pipe line ran at the side of the railway. Dumps and depots were made at intervals. At El Arish numerous sidings were built and stores and water were accumulated, and the small oasis of palm groves became a busy advanced base. From this point the line was pushed forward through Rafa, and when the Battalion arrived in Egypt the railhead was at Belah a few miles south of Gaza; where there were large dumps and also two extensive stationary hospitals. On arrival at Belah the Battalion detrained and marched through loose sand, ankle deep, and great was the relief when it pitched its bivouac near the seashore; the pleasure of sea bathing was shortlived, for in a few days, on the 29th July, 1917, the Battalion marched inland to join the Desert Corps. It was here at Belah that a new method of transport was introduced in the shape of the Camel Transport Corps. That fascinating quadruped, the camel, was substituted for the mule, although a few mule-drawn vehicles still remained for general purposes. At Belah there were extensive camel lines; each camel company, which consisted of 600 camels, having its own area. Ropes were staked across the width of these lines at regular intervals and to these ropes the camels were tethered a few yards apart. Each pair of camels had an Egyptian attendant, who was dressed in a long butcher-blue smock with the letters C.T.C. in red on the chest. These natives took great pride in their lines and kept them particularly clean, while the saddles were neatly arranged just in rear of the camels.

The saddle fitted over the hump of the camel, and at each side near the top of the saddle were fixed two stout bars of wood, about ten inches longer than the saddles, on to which the loads were hooked in rope nets. Water was carried in “fanatis” or copper tanks, which rested on the sides of the saddle. A certain number of men were detailed as camel guides from each company and section in the Battalion.

On leaving Belah, on the evening of the 29th July, the Battalion struck inland in a south-easterly direction along rough-made tracks, but the sand was loose and made the going very heavy. Although it was evening time the heat was terrific, and soon the perspiration was rolling down every one’s face and the dust raised by the column soon formed into mud on the face and hands. Every one was choked with dust and eyes and nostrils became extremely painful. No one felt like singing, and even talking was rewarded with a mouthful of sand, one and all just blindly followed on through the cloud of dust raised by the four in front, which could only just be discerned. Water was limited, and it was practically forbidden to drink it; only a mouth wash or gargle could be indulged in. After struggling for about nine or ten miles in this unpleasant fashion the whole column was relieved to move off the tracks and settle down for a rest. With no movement the dust clouds disappeared, and in the wondrous beauty of the moonlight of a warm Egyptian night bivouacs were soon erected, but water was too scarce to make tea, and doubts arose as to when the next issue would arrive. Nevertheless, tiredness overcame the Battalion, and it was soon asleep. The next morning the sun poured down, but the arrival of the water camels cheered us and the routine of desert life, which was to be our existence for some time to come, had begun. After a day’s rest, which included the kicking about of a football by some of the more energetic, the Battalion moved off again in the evening, about 4 p.m., and plodded its weary way past Sheik Nuran to Gambli on the Wadi Ghuzze. This was a repetition of the previous night’s march in every detail, except that the ending was not a simple right wheel on to the level desert, but as a special treat a descent of the steep cliffs of the wadi banks had to be negotiated. This descent was difficult with such appendages as company mules, camels and transport, and was followed by a mile over the stony bed of the wadi. About midnight the Battalion halted and settled for the night under the steep banks of the wadi. The next day the companies went out to take over the line on the Gambli defences. Reliefs were carried out by day and companies simply marched over the desert in mass, a most amusing performance after the communication trenches in France and the careful night reliefs on the Salonica Front. At this point of the line the Turks were at least 20 miles away, and, therefore, precautions from shelling were not necessary. This, indeed, was a pleasant part to hold and keep. Strong points well wired around were held, these being about 150 yards apart. The right flank of our line curled back so that it actually faced away from the Turk. The front was protected by night by cavalry patrols of Australian Light Horse, while to the east the Desert Camel Corps was operating as a mobile flank guard. Bivouacs were arranged in the small wadis or fissures in the ground and, of course, movement was not restricted. To those who were not privileged to see this part of the war it would be humorous to think of the sentry by day standing in the trench shewing well above the parapet under the protection of a huge umbrella-like shade which could be seen for miles around. Although the war in this theatre lacked shot and shell it had other horrors in the shape of oppressive heat, limited supplies of water, sandstorms, and numerous flies. In addition to the ever-present insect life associated with active service and the trenches, there were centipedes, scorpions, tarantula spiders and small snakes, which invaded our blankets. Chameleons were also plentiful and were kept as pets, though we never committed the atrocity attributed to a man in a Scottish Division on the Palestine Front who placed a pet chameleon on his tartan kilt and wondered why the poor little beggar suddenly died.

An average day in these parts was as follows: Early morning company drill in front of the wire, breakfast, and then utter collapse and seeking of shade until about 4 p.m. The only joy of the hot day was the arrival of the camels with water, and even this water was strongly chlorinated. Water was drawn from the Wadi Ghuzze where, by digging down for a few feet, pools of water were frequently found. During the day every one lay down and put pieces of muslin over their faces, hands and exposed knee caps, so that the flies should not be too irritating. Each afternoon a hot wind, called the “Khamsin,” blew regularly and brought with it a sandstorm. Drifting sand found its way into every nook and cranny; the food was soon covered and things were generally unpleasant while the storm lasted. It was during one of these afternoons that a private remarked: “They call this a land of milk and honey, eh! One tin between 20 men and not a b----bee to be seen.” However, about 4 p.m. each day the atmosphere cooled a little; letter writing (not to forget the inevitable censoring), card playing and dinner were the next items on the programme, only to be marred by the company drill and exercises that followed.

At night-time sentry groups were posted by each platoon in its own strong point, and visiting patrols wandered between the posts throughout the night. It was a short night and no aerial torpedoes or other types of frightfulness disturbed the tour of duty. Each evening about 5 p.m. large bodies of Australian Cavalry went out to the front, sometimes accompanied by Armoured Cars, and took up an outpost line some five or six miles ahead of the defensive line. But even with this cavalry screen it was possible for a strong raiding party of Turks to attack one of our posts. In fact, only a short time before our arrival, our predecessors had been surprised one morning by a heavy bombardment with field guns, which some adventurous Turks had brought up under cover of darkness.

The Battalion, however, remained in undisputed possession of this part of the line until the 12th August, when it was relieved by the 2/13th Londons (Kensingtons) and retired to Tel el Fara, renowned as being a camping ground of Richard Cœur-de-Lion and his Crusaders. Tel el Fara was a high cliff jutting out into the Wadi Ghuzze and could be seen for many miles around and was used as an observation post. It was the local landmark for all who were lost on the desert. It is an easy matter to be lost on the desert, as each square mile is identical with its neighbours, and only a feature like Tel el Fara helped the wanderer.

The rest of the month was spent in training and lectures, when the heat permitted, and was only varied by an occasional route march in the early morning, not a pleasant outing. The tracks were not watered by the local borough council and chewing grit was the only occupation of the silent troops; talking and singing was impossible, and this denial always added to the monotony of the march. Practice attacks were also carried out against imaginary enemies.

By the beginning of September the Battalion had moved to El Shaulth, near Sheik Nuran, and remained there to prepare for the offensive which was to be made in Palestine. The men had become accustomed to the heat and no longer was it necessary to reserve parades until evening time. All day and every day training was carried out with vigour, until Brigade operations in the way of advanced guards, attacks and long night marches became frequent. A rifle range was built and field firing was done. It may be interesting to mention that some of our tactical schemes were carried out some six or seven miles in front of the wire of the defences. On one occasion the Brigade set out on a long night march by the assistance of many luminous compasses and numerous pacers, the objective being a lone tree standing in the open desert some ten miles away from our camps. The march was made and by all the careful calculations we arrived at our destination about two hours before dawn. A halt was called, but no trace of the lone tree could be found, and after an energetic search by mounted officers and a consequent “pow-wow” the verdict, “Lost,” was given, and there was nothing to do but to wait till dawn. When the sun rose it transpired that we were in the correct spot, but during the night some Australian Troop, which had run short of wood, had cut down the tree which had stood alone in the desert on the previous day, and to all appearances had stood since the days of the Flood, only to be felled by the hand of a “Dinkum.” The opinion of the Brigade staff who had arranged this pleasant little outing is not recorded, but it is thought was not complimentary to our friends from the Antipodes.

Plans for the great attack were being drawn up about this time, and officers made reconnaissances towards the Turkish lines. These outings were no small undertakings. A party of officers and grooms would leave El Shaulth about 5 a.m. in the morning and ride over the desert to the more rugged and undulating country to the south of Beersheba, and then spend some hours in the heat of the day in scouting over the hills on foot to become acquainted with the ground, and at the same time doing their best to evade the Turkish patrols which frequented the hills. The party would then rendezvous at a given time in the early evening and start on the homeward journey. A halt would be called about ten miles from the Turkish lines, at which point it was considered safe to disregard the Turk. Here, under the glorious moonlight, a picnic would be held and the adventures of the day would be recounted, and after a smoke the journey would be resumed, camp being reached by about 2 a.m. the next morning. From the Turkish lines to the Wadi Ghuzze landmarks were definite enough, but on the other side of the wadi there was nothing but sand for miles. Everyone knew the most direct route to the camp, and, of course, this was the beginning of an argument which often ended in parties of officers going off in different directions. At different times during the night these parties struck the camp; some had taken the direct route, some had been misled by lights in other camps; others found that some camp which had existed when they went out had moved during the day, and so on. However, on return to camp there was always a hot meal ready, prepared by our faithful batmen, who waited up for us. A word here perhaps would not be out of place in praise of the batmen of the Battalion. Veritable “scroungers,” they always thought of their officers, and nothing was too hot or too heavy, not even the Company Commander’s valise. At the end of each day’s trek or manœuvre they forgot their own fatigue and prepared meals for the mess, the variety of which was confined to the army rations and the ever-present issue of sand.

The only excitement of the war at El Shaulth was the daily visit of two enemy aeroplanes to our camps and a few days’ operations at Hiseia, on the Wadi Ghuzze, where we tackled the banks of the wadi instead of trenches dug in the flat sand, and where we had already exhausted the possibility of taking cover on such ground during the attack.

Besides the shortage of water, fuel was also very limited, and Egypt was practically denuded of trees to provide fuel for the E.E.F. One Company cook, however, had different views as to the origin of his firewood, and after vainly endeavouring to chop a hard piece of olive wood which had been issued to him, paused, and with much emphasis consigned the trunk to a far hotter fire than his own, remarking what he required was “wood and not Adam’s petrified doorposts.”

So far I have only spoken on the warlike side of our stay at El Shaulth, but among the pleasanter things of life was the leave to Cairo or Alexandria which had been granted. With what joy those few miles over the desert to Sheik Nuran were traversed, followed by a scramble for the leave train and then a long train journey on the Desert Railway to Kantara, which took about twelve hours. At Kantara a rush was made for the Divisional Rest Camp, a wash and shave and breakfast and a dash for the first available train on the Egyptian State Railways and then a comfortable journey to Cairo or Alexandria. I need hardly describe either of these cities, for as holiday resorts they hold a world-wide reputation. The return to the line about nine days later was never so pleasant. The heat became oppressive again, the meal at the rest camp at Kantara was adversely criticised, and the desert train journey was monotonous in the extreme. However, on rejoining the Battalion, tales of the Continental, Shepheards, the Pyramids, the Sphinx, the Barrage and so forth were told, while the fellows from Alexandria talked of nothing but the Majestic, the Regina Palace, the Races, Bathing, and Groppi’s.

By the middle of October the serious side of the campaign in Palestine had commenced, and most people had had their leave in Egypt. Leave was stopped and football and sports in the evenings, and an occasional Divisional concert party were our only entertainments. The post was regular and parcels were received, although occasionally a foot-note in Battalion orders to the effect that the mails from the United Kingdom on certain dates had been lost at sea through enemy action made us depressed. Canteen stores were plentiful, as we were near the railhead at Sheik Nuran, but they soon became less in quantity as the ration trains were then being employed for war material for the coming advance. Towards the end of October the attack on Beersheba was a popular topic, and the hard training was not to be in vain. The Battalion was fit and strong, although malaria and fever had claimed their victims, and a fair number were sent down to Base Hospitals. However, the Battalion was ready and willing to show the Turks the way to the north.

While at El Shaulth several changes took place in the higher command. Major-General J. S. Shea, C.M.G., had taken over the Division from Major-General E. S. Bulfin, C.B., who had been promoted to the command of the 20th Corps, while Lieut.-Colonel C. de Putron left us to go to the School of Instruction at Zeitoun, near Cairo, his place being filled by Lieut.-Colonel T. E. Bisdee (Duke of Cornwall’s L.I.). Colonel Bisdee was intensely popular with all ranks from the first day of joining the Battalion, and in the short time he commanded us before Beersheba he worked wonders. The Company Commanders at this time were Captains C. H. Rimington, F. W. Lewis, K. A. Wills, and A. C. H. Benké.