CHAPTER II
OFF
Wesailed from Southampton on December 12, 1914, the name of our transport being theDunera, an old British India Company steamer, I believe. The Canadians were no end sorry that they weren't going with us, and our fellows would have liked nothing better, for both contingents had grown to like and respect each other. However, it wasn't to be, and being debarred from accompanying us the men of the Western Dominion did the next best thing and gave us a rousing send-off. They turned out about two battalions as a guard of honour, and, headed by a couple of bands, we marched the two miles to Bulford Siding between a double line of cheering andhat-waving "Kanucks." They may have been a bit lively, those Canadians, but their hearts were where they belonged, and they were all white.
She was a rare old hooker, was the ss.Dunera. Besides our little lot of 250 she carried over 1400 "Terriers," many of whom looked as if they hadn't forgotten the taste of their mothers' milk. They were a poor lot as regards height and build, and our fellows could have given them a couple of inches and a deal of weight all round. However, they may have done all right in the scrapping, like many another Territorial regiment: one often gets left when one starts in to judge by appearances, and a weed many a time carries a bigger heart than a score of six-footers.
We slept in hammocks, and were packed in like sheep in a pen. The tucker wasn't much to write home about; still there was enough of it, and sea air is one of the best sauces I know of—when there isn't too much of it!Our deck space was a bit limited, of course, and after dark it almost vanished, so that a chap was never quite sure whether he was walking on it or on Territorial. Then there were other things which made the going even more treacherous—and we carried broken weather right down through the Bay!
Our lot were quartered in the 'tween decks. At the best of times the atmosphere there couldn't have been much catch, so the reader can imagine what it was like when every inch was taken up by living, breathing (and sweating) humans. I don't like rubbing it in where men who have rolled up to do their bit are concerned, but the habits of those Terrier shipmates of ours were enough to set you thinking. They brought homeliness to a fine art. Spittoons (had we possessed such) would have been scorned by them as savouring of artificiality. Socks were made to wear, not to be hung up at night and looked at. Feetwere intended to be walked on—and soap cost money. As for toothbrushes, well, they were all right for polishing buttons. The spectacle of a big, husky bushman cleaning his teeth night and morning was a thing they couldn't understand at any price, much less appreciate. "If I did that," observed one in my hearing, "I'd have toothache bad"; which seemed to be the general opinion.
They were great trenchermen, those shipmates of ours. Lord, how they did eat! I am beginning to think that we rough-and-ready Colonials from the back of beyond have girlish appetites as compared with some of the Old Country boys. And we like our tucker clean: we can chew hard tack with the next one, but we take all sorts of fine care that the cook washes both himself and his utensils. But those Terriers of ours didn't seem to care a cent whether the stuff was clean or filthy. Trifles like that didn't worry them. And the way they used their knives! Still, they werewonderfully expert: I didn't see a single cut mouth all the time I was on board theDunera. Funning apart, however, they just ate like pigs and lived ditto. I don't like to have to record this, but necessity compels me. Tommy Atkins can fight; we admit it, and we take off our hats to him, but compared with the Australasian bushman—the man who fears neither God, man, nor devil—he is in many respects an uncivilised animal. True, we may have run across him at his worst. I hope so, anyway.
After leaving the Bay the weather took a change for the better; the sea calmed down and the atmosphere grew much more balmy. We were a little fleet of some five or six transports, escorted by a couple of small cruisers. Our ships were by no means ocean greyhounds, so we made slow, if steady, progress.
We killed time in the usual way—concerts, boxing, etc. on weekdays, and Church Parade on Sundays. Life on a trooper is about thelast thing God made. I've had my share of it, and I don't want any more. I'm not greedy.
On reaching Gibraltar our escort left us, signalling to the transports to follow their own courses. We didn't stop at Gib., but pushed straight on up the Mediterranean. The weather was now quite summer-like, and all on board began to perk up considerably. The sea was a beautiful deep blue, the air had the wine of the South in it, the sun shone brightly, and its setting was glorious.
On sighting Malta we mistook a signal, and made tracks for the harbour of Valetta. Before we could get in, however, we wereshoo'doff by the Powers that Be. We didn't seem to be the party they wanted, so we had to hit back to the old trail. Apart from wishing to see the place and getting a chance to stretch my legs, I had a personal interest in paying it a visit, as a great-uncle of mine, who had been a fleet-surgeon during theCrimean War, lay buried in the naval cemetery in Valetta. However, it wasn't to be.
The weather all through the Mediterranean remained as near perfect as they make it, hence seasickness was a thing of the past. We had the usual boat-drills, fire alarms and so forth. At that time there were no submarines down south, so we travelled with all lights going, both aloft and below. What with sea games, boxing, concerts, and cards the time passed quickly. Likewise our money. Faro and Crown and Anchor were the favourite card games; you could lose your partable cash fairly slickly at either. I have seen more than one pound resting on the turn of a single card. I reckon Colonials are to a man born gamblers, so it wasn't surprising that our available capital should be "floating"—in more ways than one. However, some one introduced a roulette table, and our cash soon floated all one way, the "bank" taking no risks and the "limit" being strictly enforced. Needless tosay, the bank was never broken—but I fancy the wheel was.
Being in wireless communication with the shore we got an almost daily smattering of news, which was typed out and read aloud in various parts of the ship. Thus we heard straight away of the German bombardment of the Hartlepools. The Russians, also, seemed to be going strong, but we were never quite sure where, as the wireless operator made a queer fist of the names on the map. Come to think of it, it wasn't surprising, for they seemed to get most all of the alphabet into those Eastern front locations, and they sounded jolly like an assorted mixture of coughs and sneezes. It is easy to account for the illiterate state of the inhabitants of those parts; it would take them a lifetime to learn to spell their own names. So I reckon they just give the whole thing best.
We arrived without mishap at Alexandria on the 24th of December—Christmas Eve.It was a beautiful morning as we steamed up the Bay, and we got a fair idea of what the warships had to face the time they bombarded and captured the place. And right here I don't make any beans about stating what I think of that scrap. The town, at that time, was quite open to attack; the forts were old and crumbling; I am fairly sure the guns were not of the latest pattern; and as for the natives who served them, if they were anything like the fellowsweran across I don't think our jolly tars would lose much sweat in knocking the fight out of them. I used to read a lot about the Bombardment of Alexandria, but now after seeing the place (and I had, on various occasions, a good look round the old positions) I don't think much of it.
Once tied up to the wharf it was a case of get our coats off and set to work unloading ship. This took up most of the day, and a very hot day we found it. Some of the packages were fairly hefty and took a deal ofhandling, and I can't say we were over gentle in our methods of shifting them—at least the flying men didn't seem to think we were when it came to handling the cases containing their engines. Our old hooker was just alive with cockroaches, too, and regular boomers they were; some as big as locusts. As the various packages were swung over the ship's side the beggars kept dropping on us below. We didn't like it; there are nicer things than fishing for lively cockroaches inside your shirt. The natives who were assisting us didn't care a hang about trifles of that kind. They weren't a handsome lot by any means, but they were a fine, stalwart crowd, lively and animated—like their shirts. They wore flowing skirts, elastic-side boots, and stockings that pretended to be white. They are intensely religious, always looking forbacksheesh, and have no morals. When we started in to boss them up they didn't seem to know the meaning of the word "hustle," but, ignorant as we wereof their language, we managed to enlighten them; truly, the army boot hath its uses.
English money, we found, would pass in Alexandria—with profit to the merchant who accepted it. Thus we were enabled to purchase oranges, figs, grapes, tobacco, cigarettes—in fact, 'most anything one had a hankering for. The native hawkers and bumboat men are a picturesque-looking lot of blackguards enough, in a comic opera way; they are to a man top-knotch liars, and invoke the aid of Allah to help them out in their perjuries. They are truly Eastern in their love of bargaining; also in their smell.
We left the same evening by train for Cairo. The Egyptian State Railways are, on the whole, not bad; the trains got over the ground much faster than I had anticipated: about forty miles an hour, I should say. The accommodation was good enough (no cushions in the third-class, of course), and the whole outfit appeared to be kept fairly clean. Thecarriages were hitched on to each other like a series of tramcars, a corridor running down the centre of each, and a couple of overlapping metal plates taking the place of the concertina-like arrangement used in corridor trains in England. If you got tired of sitting inside the cars you could always find an airy perch on the platform outside. To go from one car to another necessitated a climb over the platform guard on to the afore-mentioned metal plates. The officials appeared to be all Egyptians, and I am bound to admit they were as civil and courteous a lot as one could wish to bump up against. They knew their work, too, and didn't grow flies. The fares were reasonable—and soldiers only paid half.
Being a troop train, we travelled third class. On ordinary occasions, however, it is only natives who do so, whites going first or second. There are reasons for this; lively ones, too.
The oldDunerahad been a temperanceship, hence our chaps had worked up a forty-horse thirst on the voyage. Now drinks were cheap (for the East) in Alexandria, so our crowd, being mostly old campaigners, took full advantage of what they considered a merciful dispensation of Providence. The bank not being too solvent, they couldn't all run to whisky, of course, and many had to content themselves with larger beer "made in Germany"; however, the bottles (and things in general) became a bit mixeden route, so they got, perhaps, even more fun out of the assorted brew than if they had all been sipping at the same fount. Our train travelled to an accompaniment of coo-ees, war-cries, bush ballads, and breaking bottles. It was a distinctly lively trip, and I shan't forget my first Christmas Eve in the Land of the Pharaohs. So far as I recollect, there were no bones broken, either, and not so very many windows.
We ran into Pont de Koubbeh station, afew miles outside Cairo, about ten o'clock that night, and disembarked straight away. A number of staff officers were on the platform, so we were fallen-in for a hasty inspection; and it was really marvellous, considering the amount of liquid refreshment that had been consumed, how steady a line was kept. It might certainly have been improved, but any little shortcomings in the way of dressing,et cetera, were put down by our officers to the fatiguing day we had had, plus the heat of Egypt. Perhaps the staff believed them. But it was a mistake to give the order, "Fix Bayonets!" when those weapons were already so firmly "fixed" amidst the gear we were burdened with that nearly half the company utterly failed at first to find them—and when they did succeed, the officers of the staff had turned to go: thinking, no doubt, that the climate had a lot to answer for.
We marched the couple of miles or so to Zeitoun, where the New Zealanders werecamped, about seven miles from Cairo, passing on the way many soldiers of the Dominion, who were in a slightly "elevated" condition. One six-foot infantryman attached himself to us as guide, informing all and sundry the while that he was as "right as theadjectivedbank!" He may have been, but he didn't look it. And those two miles were easily the longest I ever padded. However, we found our camp at last, and in the fullness of time our blankets and kits also, and, after doing justice to a savoury, if rather overcooked, stew, turned in early on Christmas morning. Later we were informed that the boys had fixed to give us a boncer welcome, but "Christmas come but once a year," and in the words of our informant, "they blued their cheques, got shikkared, and the show was bust up." We got to sleep at last, lulled by the dulcet strains of a Maorihakavoiced by a home-coming band of late—or early!—revellers.