Part 5 (1/2)
”Ferro-prussiate or ferro-gallic.”
”Eh?”
”D'you want ferro-prussiate or ferro-gallic?”
”What's the difference?”
”Brown lines or white on blue?”
”I think it had better be the ferro-whatsit, white on blue.” And he departed, a little wiser and somewhat chastened.
Drafting skills and the a.s.sociated engineering knowledge were not generally appreciated; an Indian corporal, a Company Office clerk, a baboo, looked in one day, viewed the work being done and said with an air of complete confidence in his abilities, ”You show me sergeant -- three days I do your job.”
The DO was supplied with a bike, an army version, heavy and unwieldy.
Most bikes we were used to in Britain were equipped with two hand brakes but this one had a coaster brake, trying to pedal backwards would apply the brake to the back wheel. Riding a bike in Iraq presented some difficulties, the terrain was a mixture of hard ground and loose sand, not always easy to tell apart, and loose sand would quickly bring you to a halt. One day before the hot weather began I was wearing battledress but not gaiters; I rode off across the desert; almost simultaneously my trouser leg got caught between the chain and the sprocket, the bike found some loose sand and I fell off. Lying on the ground attached to the bike I tried to disentangle myself but with the coaster brake I couldn't reverse the direction. There was nothing for it but to wind my trouser leg right around the sprocket, not an easy task when you're lying on the ground attached to a heavy bike. The trouser leg was not badly damaged, some minor perforations but a lot of black grease.
Usually after that I walked.
DO STAFF No.1BW, SHAIBA, 1944 Jim Parks Jack Walker Jock Pulsford John Village John c.o.x And that bike
As the warmer weather began we had to start sunbathing, for the first couple of days stripped to the waist we spent five minutes in the sun; the time in the sun was gradually increased until we eventually acquired a healthy tan.
Near to our establishment was a prisoner-of-war camp housing Italians who had been captured in the Western Desert battles; when Italy capitulated they became, overnight, co-operators and were allotted billets within our compound. We fraternised and they were allowed to use our facilities but could not buy beer which was rationed, though occasionally a non-drinker's bottle would be surrept.i.tiously diverted.
Over the bar was a sign that read Vietato per soldati Italiani the translation having been provided by one of our cooks who had been a chef in pre-war Italy. Before the war a DO member had started to teach himself Italian and had with him a vocabulary; this we used to bridge the communication gap. We supplemented this by recalling as best we could our schoolday French and subst.i.tuting what we believed to be a corresponding Italian accent got along fairly well.
It was decreed that the mobile cinema showing old films would be replaced by a permanent theatre that would also show old films. It would not be an Odeon but would be a more posh theatre and the design job was given to the DO as we had some architectural experience at hand.
It was to have a sloping earth floor bounded by brick walls with a little enclosure for the projectionist. When the design was completed the actual building task was given, using standard army intelligence, to a pre-war cinema projectionist. The sand was bulldozed up to a wedge shape and then the brick walls were added but instead of the bottom course being laid on horizontal footings and stepped at intervals to obtain the required increase in height the bricks were laid on the sloping floor with the courses following the same angle. How they managed the coins beats me.
With the cinema in full swing the Italians naturally wanted to share in the entertainment and to the army this presented a slight problem for although they were regarded as co-operators complete integration was not yet an official policy, memories of hostilities were still fresh. As a compromise someone thought up a great idea, the cinema would be divided into two parts separated by a rope cordon, the front one third would be for the Italians and the rear two thirds would be for the British. I think the Italians would have accepted this arrangement even though they had been allocated the worst viewing positions had it not been for the actions of a couple of Brits who started a call of ”Baa, Baa, Baa.” This was soon taken up by the rest of the Brits until the place sounded like a farmyard at shearing time. One by one the Italians got up and walked out and the Brits thought they had scored another victory but two nights later they found that the cinema was still divided by a cordon which this time ran from front to back so that the two groups now sat side by side each having good, intermediate and poor viewing positions. Peace reigned.
As might be expected in the army, government items that should be within the QM stores often found their way into other hands. Authorities found that the easiest way of dealing with this problem was to announce that on a particular time and day a kit inspection would be held, but that on the previous night the QM stores would be open and all illegally held items could be returned with no questions asked. The kit inspection would still be held but it would catch far fewer people and fewer charges would be laid. One fateful day the lieutenant and sergeant appeared at my bed and turned out my kit. ”Ah, ha,” said the lieutenant as he extracted a steel rule, ”government property.”
Well he didn't actually say, ”Ah, ha,” but I gleaned that from the expression on his face. I a.s.sured him that it was my personal property but he would have none of it. I pointed out that it bore no bench mark or other mark identifying it as being government property but he said, ”No, -- take his name and charge him, sergeant.” They both pa.s.sed on through the hut and later the sergeant came back to take particulars; in the meantime a thought struck me, I went through my wallet and as luck would have it I found what I wanted. I presented the sergeant with a bill of sale from a shop in Aldershot registering the purchase of a steel rule complete with its serial number. He viewed this, mumbled something and disappeared. Did I ever get an apology for being accused of stealing? Pigs might fly.
Due to the very hot sandy dusty conditions in the country we were not supposed to spend more than two summers in Iraq and to ease things for us the army arranged that everyone would, at some time during that period, be sent on a two week compulsory leave to Beirut. Imagine, compulsory leave! The journey was taken in four stages and the transport was a small convoy of army lorries with Indian drivers and co-drivers. We drove only on metalled roads and our first overnight stop was at a place called Wadi Mahomadi where the only signs of habitation were our huts. After a good night's sleep we set off the next morning for Rutbah which lay on an oil pipe line guarded by Military Police but which seemed just as deserted. We stayed there for the night. Our lorries held about eight of us and we lolled around in the back; for comfort it was agreed that our army boots should be removed. Lafferty declined. Ingram, a member of our boxing team insisted. Lafferty's boots came off. At this point as our lorry started weaving we discovered that our co-driver was missing, there was only one man in the cab, the driver, and he was dozing off. Perhaps it had been this way ever since the start of the journey but we weren't very happy about the situation so we made the driver keep whistling; whenever the whistling stopped someone would lean out and reach round into the cab window and poke the driver to bring him round.
We pa.s.sed through Dar'a in what was then called Trans-Jordan and our third night's stop was at Damascus, one of the oldest continuously occupied cities in the world and here things were much more civilised.
On the forth leg we crossed over the mountain range into Beirut. The road was serpentine; when we started out it was quite a hot day and we were in tropical kit, we were told that at the crest, some nine thousand feet up, we would feel the cold; I was a little doubtful about this but at the higher points snow lay on the roadsides and I certainly did.
Mount Hermon was pointed out to us in the distance as we drove.
Descending from the crest Beirut and the curve of the Mediterranean spread out before us, it was a wonderful sight, the beautiful blue sweep of the sea contrasting with the brilliant white of the houses set in the green of the trees. However our attention was soon drawn away from this scene as we realised that instead of changing down to negotiate the winding road our driver either from ignorance or inability stayed in top gear and drove on his brakes, and no amount of shouting or banging on his cab persuaded him to pay any attention to us. We got in to Beirut without any further incident but I guess his drums and linings were in a bit of a state.
Until this time right from the beginning of the war we had never been allowed to wear civilian clothes or go about untidily dressed, there had never been any respite from the feeling of being controlled, but now within the camp we were allowed to spend the day in swimming trunks even when going into the mess tent for meals though of course we dressed to go into the city. What a feeling of relief, we were human again.
It was a wonderful two weeks, thoroughly refres.h.i.+ng; most of the days were spent on the beach swimming and breasting the breakers but we went into the city as well. It is sad to compare the beautiful Beirut of those days, a most civilised place, with the devastated Beirut of the 1980's. Civilised it was but they were also prepared for the influx of rowdy soldiery; in one bar a wide shelf about seven feet off the floor was fronted with chicken wire and on this shelf behind the chicken wire a three piece band played away, protected from missiles hurled by inebriated pongos.
This was the life; we could have got used to it but the day came when we had to board the lorries again and head back to the desert. The trip, otherwise uneventful, was marred by an accident; one of the lorries in the convoy carrying the cooks and their utensils took a corner too fast and overturned. Two Indian cooks were killed.
During the next two years I was twice detached from Shaiba for short periods. First of all I was posted to Baghdad where I was billeted in a camp but by day I was employed in a large private house in Mansoor Street. Military and local civilian staff worked there. It was interesting to see the Arab girls arrive daily in western dress and watch as they left for home in the evening to not very attractive accommodations where they changed into non-western dress. My original task was not very important but as they now had a tame draughtsman on hand other work was found for me and one whole day was taken up with making small prints of some publication or other. This involved taking a print frame out in the sun for very short periods and because I would only be exposed to the sun for seconds at a time I didn't wear my pith helmet. However during the course of the day the time spent in the sun was c.u.mulative and later I had to report sick. Obviously I didn't disclose my foolishness to the MO and so I was diagnosed as having sand-fly fever, that good old stand-by when they didn't know what was really wrong with you and I was sent to hospital. I remember having a temperature of 104F and I vaguely remember going into and coming out of delirium. A few days later I started to improve but then contracted dysentery and so spent another while in hospital. After discharge it was decided to send me away for a couple of weeks convalescence; I hoped it would be to the RAF at Habbaniyah where they had air conditioning but no, I was sent to the YMCA in Baghdad and eventually returned to Shaiba.