5CHRISTMASATTHEPYRAMIDS
THE LAST SERVICE ON BOARD THE "LONDON" FOR THE AUSTRALIANS.
THE LAST SERVICE ON BOARD THE "LONDON" FOR THE AUSTRALIANS.
THE LAST SERVICE ON BOARD THE "LONDON" FOR THE AUSTRALIANS.
THE DARDANELLES–AUSTRALIANS AND BLUEJACKETS ON A TRANSPORT.
THE DARDANELLES–AUSTRALIANS AND BLUEJACKETS ON A TRANSPORT.
THE DARDANELLES–AUSTRALIANS AND BLUEJACKETS ON A TRANSPORT.
"From faithful lass and loving wifeI bring a wish divineFor Christmas blessings on your head.""I wish you well," the sentry said,"But here, alas! you may not passWithout the countersign."He vanished–and the sentry's trampRe-echoed down the line.It was not till the morning lightThe soldiers knew that in the nightOld Santa Claus had come to campWithout the countersign.A. B. Paterson.
"From faithful lass and loving wifeI bring a wish divineFor Christmas blessings on your head.""I wish you well," the sentry said,"But here, alas! you may not passWithout the countersign."He vanished–and the sentry's trampRe-echoed down the line.It was not till the morning lightThe soldiers knew that in the nightOld Santa Claus had come to campWithout the countersign.A. B. Paterson.
"From faithful lass and loving wifeI bring a wish divineFor Christmas blessings on your head.""I wish you well," the sentry said,"But here, alas! you may not passWithout the countersign."
"From faithful lass and loving wife
I bring a wish divine
For Christmas blessings on your head."
"I wish you well," the sentry said,
"But here, alas! you may not pass
Without the countersign."
He vanished–and the sentry's trampRe-echoed down the line.It was not till the morning lightThe soldiers knew that in the nightOld Santa Claus had come to campWithout the countersign.A. B. Paterson.
He vanished–and the sentry's tramp
Re-echoed down the line.
It was not till the morning light
The soldiers knew that in the night
Old Santa Claus had come to camp
Without the countersign.
A. B. Paterson.
Butthere were to be another two months of waiting yet–of waiting and tireless preparation, before any fighting was to come their way. And this delay had the best of good reasons behind it. For one thing it would not have been wise to bring the fighting men of Australia and New Zealand straight out of their own summer to face the rigours of a northern winter in England, or in France; and for another, Lord Kitchener has a habit–a very disconcerting habit for his enemies and some of his self-important critics–of looking ahead and providing for to-morrow; he foresaw that things might soon be happening in the sunny land of the Pharaohs and knew that when they did happen it would be good to have such a hefty band of warriors ready there and waiting for them.
"I am pleased to be able to announce," said Mr. Fisher in the Australian House of Representatives on the 4th December, "that the Australian and New Zealand contingents have safely arrived and have disembarked in Egypt to assist in the defence of that country and to complete their training there. They will go direct to the front to fight with other British troops in Europe when their training is complete. Acting on the strong recommendation and advice of Lord Kitchener, the Commonwealth Government agreedto the Australian Imperial Force being landed in Egypt for training instead of in England. It was pointed out that to house Australians in tents in an English mid-winter after a long voyage in troopships through the tropics and sub-tropics would be a very severe trial and impose unnecessary hardships on our men. Lord Kitchener's proposals were entirely due to his anxiety to secure the best possible conditions for the success of our forces, in which he takes a very special interest."
A similar announcement was made by New Zealand's Premier, who said that his Government also had readily acquiesced in Lord Kitchener's suggestions.
Some thousands of the troops went off almost at once to form part of the Army of English Territorials and Egyptian regiments that were occupying Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula; but the great majority of the Australasians pitched their camps in the desert round about Cairo. The Light Horse were at Maadi; the New Zealanders at Sertun, on the opposite bank of the Nile; and the Australian infantry were at Menai, ten miles outside Cairo at the foot of the hills, in the shadow of the Pyramids. This which had been trackless waste before they came was transformed within a fortnight after their arrival into a vast canvas city, with long streets of white tents intersected here and there by wooden booths that were used as shops and cafés. Men and stores were carried from Alexandria by rail to the temporary station of Abu Ela, just beyond Cairo, and thence by wagon, mule, camel, and afoot, or in the electric trams that run from Cairo to the Pyramids. It was impossible by threats or entreaties to hustle the leisurely natives who assisted in this arduous transport work; nevertheless it was all accomplished, the camp erected and organised, and by the middle of December the strangers from oversea had made themselves comfortably at home in the desert. The streets of white tents stretched for miles across the sands; brown-visaged, white-robed natives would come and hover on the outskirts of them hawking sweetmeats and fruit, or would squat patiently on the alert to offer their services as guides to soldiers going off on leave, or would gather in picturesque, chattering groups to gaze admiringly whilst the troops went through their usual drill exercises or on some days carried out more extensive military manœuvres.
Every day the big camp hummed with miscellaneous activities; and every day there were regiments busy at bayonet practice, at heavy trench digging, at long route marches under the blazing sunacross the apparently interminable flats of sand; but almost every day, too, there were hundreds set free to crowd into and on the electric trams and descend upon Cairo to lounge through the bazaars and to fraternise with their English comrades in arms who were to be met with there and who joyously did the honours of the city and took them round to see the wonders of it. And almost every day there were parties of such holiday-going fighting men captured by vociferous Arab guides, and driven furiously off on sturdy little mules, with their drivers tearing and panting after them, to make a nearer acquaintance with the Sphinx, or to explore the dim, mysterious chambers of the Pyramids.
I like to think of those keen young Australians, men of the youngest of nations, who have put their hands to the building of the happier world of to-morrow which shall be a greater and more lasting monument to them than any pyramid of brick and stone–I like to think of them, eager, splendidly alive, on the threshold of a new day, turning aside to wander in those dusty halls and passages haunted by ghosts of a wondrous civilisation that has been dead these thousands of years. I like to think, too, of those hoary pyramids, dark with long memories, towering up into the bright sky on Sunday mornings when church service was being held in the camp, and hearing the faint preludings of the military band and then the swell of a myriad voices joining in some such nobly simple hymn as "Rock of Ages"–an alien melody to them, but with all of home in it for the singers. Strange hours they must have been when those voices of the future broke the silence of the past.
Another circumstance that appeals to the imagination is that amongst this continuous coming and going of troops, the stir and noise of warlike preparations, there was a small prohibited area where Dr. Reisler, the American Egyptologist, was all the while making excavations and reverently unearthing the ancient tombs at the base of one of the pyramids, serenely undisturbed. But though that area was officially forbidden to the soldiers, Dr. Reisler made them heartily welcome when any happened to stray into his neighbourhood. TheAgecorrespondent asked him whether the proximity of the troops inconvenienced him and "Why, surely," said he with a pleasantly strong American intonation, "I don't mind the troops coming down here. I welcome all you Australians. And, believe me, the natives have taken a great fancy to your men. They are tickled to death with them."
There were two great days towards the end of December, when Lieutenant-General Sir John Maxwell, Commander of the forces in Egypt, rode into Menai camp, and, with General W. R. Birdwood, commanding the Australian and New Zealand contingents, and Sir George Reid, the Australian High Commissioner, held a review in which cavalry, infantry, and all branches of the Australian service took part, one regiment, on the second day, arriving back from a long desert march with their coats off and shirt-sleeves turned up, hot and dusty, but in the highest spirits, and falling into line immediately to parade past with the rest. They say that the sight of these hardy fellows approaching in sensible deshabille, but fresh as paint after miles of tramping under a broiling sun, moved General Maxwell to ejaculate emphatically to the High Commissioner, "This is a splendid sight, Sir George. They're a grand lot!"
But I have a notion that the most memorable event of those two months was the Christmas which they all spent in the desert. From 3 o'clock in the afternoon of Christmas Eve parades were dispensed with, and for two days the homely spirit of Yule triumphed over the spirit of Mars on the banks of the Nile. Instead of small tourist parties, thousands went pouring out on camels and donkeys to the Sphinx and the pyramids, and thousands went to crowd and enliven the bright streets of Cairo and chaffer at the booths for gifts to send to the folk down south. The adjacent palm groves were laid under contribution and the tents lavishly decorated within and without; and after dark, when the revellers were back, every tent was brilliantly lighted up, and Chinese lanterns hung glowing at the entrances to many of them. Sentries along the moonlit road that led from Cairo tried to maintain the usual punctilious military formalities, but as often as not the returning groups would have none of their challenges, in such a time as that, and answered with insubordinate flippancies. "You can see who goes here right enough, Joe–it's me." "Look here," the outraged sentry would protest, "if you don't halt when I tell you to I'll call the guard out and put you under arrest." "No, don't do that, Joe, it's chilly, and the poor chaps will catch cold. Merry Christmas, old boy." And the rebel passed on with his friends, and the sentry, since after all it was Christmas, grinned and let them go.
Though they returned to camp they were not going to bed; hardly anybody thought of sleep until daybreak. Something after midnight a cornet-player in one of the tents started a Christmas carol, and the singing and laughter that had been coming from theother tents quieted down; another cornet farther along the canvas street joined in; then another farther off still, a street or two away. When they stopped, a drum sounded and a string band somewhere took up the burden and filled the blue dark with memories that did not belong to the desert. Towards 4 o'clock, when all the other music had dwindled into silence, the band of the 4th Sydney Battalion began a series of such carols–the old, old familiar tunes that catch at the heart-strings with dear and sacred associations–and so played the last of the night away and the first of the morning in. And with the morning came the Christmas mails, and there was scarcely a tent in all those miles of them at which the postmen did not call with letters from home.
Early in the day the camp kitchens were getting busy, but outside help had been called in so as to give the regimental cooks a holiday. After church parade the men laid themselves out to make the most of the day. There were the wildest donkey races, and several attempts to organise a camel race, but the camels could not be persuaded to run. Two scratch teams were got together for a cricket match with make-shift bats and wickets; and the New South Wales regiment carried through a successful football tournament. Dinner was, of course, the crowning event of the day. This was served in two miles of wooden huts, four of which were allotted to each regiment. There was a turkey for every table, and a supply of turkeys held in reserve in case any table demanded more than one. There were Christmas puddings in plenty, and other seasonable fare, and some of the tables had even succeeded in supplying themselves with crackers. In spite of the time and the place, the old festival was observed with all the good cheer and jollity that traditionally belong to it; and not the least pleasant moment of the festivities came when the Colonels of the different regiments looked in at hut after hut to see that their men were well supplied and to wish them a Merry Christmas; and you might track the way those Colonels went by the cheers that followed them.
One of the Australian officers sent home the following as the menu of his Christmas dinner in the desert:
BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS STAFF AND FIELD ARTILLERY BRIGADETable d'HôteSoup:Vegetable.Joints:Roast Sirloin of beef.Boiled pork.Ham.Poultry.Roast turkey and savoury sauce.Vegetables:Asparagus and butter sauce.Baked and mashed potatoes.Green peas.Sweets:Plum pudding and brandy sauce.Port wine jelly.Blanc mange and jam.Fruit salad.Almonds, mixed nuts, snapdragon, fruits in season.Port wine, whisky, brandy.Aerated waters. Tea, coffee, cocoa.
BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS STAFF AND FIELD ARTILLERY BRIGADE
Table d'Hôte
Soup:Vegetable.
Joints:Roast Sirloin of beef.Boiled pork.Ham.Poultry.Roast turkey and savoury sauce.
Vegetables:Asparagus and butter sauce.Baked and mashed potatoes.Green peas.
Sweets:Plum pudding and brandy sauce.Port wine jelly.Blanc mange and jam.Fruit salad.
Almonds, mixed nuts, snapdragon, fruits in season.
Port wine, whisky, brandy.Aerated waters. Tea, coffee, cocoa.
The festivities were continued to some extent through most of the following day, then the suspended routine was resumed, the relaxed discipline tightened up again; holiday-making was over, and officers and men were presently heartened by a prospect of coming to grips with the enemy at last.