Part 7

IRAQ

Our arrival at the transit camp was in the early hours of the morning and we didn't try to get organised but being young and tired we slept well, nevertheless we woke with the dawn at about 6am and then surveyed the scene. There were a dozen or so bell tents including ours set in the middle of nothingness, flat vacant desert all around us; true there was some sign of activity a quarter of a mile away that turned out to be the local brickworks but otherwise nothing. We asked the name of this God-forsaken spot and were told Shaiba.

It was still May and the days were getting hotter. We had to be initiated into the ways of desert life; topees to be worn at all times in the sun, shirt sleeves rolled down and slacks to be worn after 6pm when it was the mosquitoes turn to be around and about, copious amounts of water to be drunk and two salt tablets taken daily.

To get us into condition after the inactive period at sea we were exercised gently. Small groups were marched along to the brickworks, a somewhat over stated term, where some Arabs were mixing up a dough-like slurry that was then put into wooden moulds, something that had been done by their forbears for the last three or four millenia. The moulds consisted of four sides and a bottom; the open face of a filled mould was smoothed off by hand and the brick turned out to dry and bake in the sun. I never measured them but they seemed to be near enough the same size as standard English ones. Bricks made this way were called plano-convex because five faces were flat and the sixth convex; each bore the imprint of a thumb on the convex face, formed as the brick was ejected from the mould. Similar bricks were used in the building of the Sumerian city of Ur several thousands of years ago.

From a pile of bricks we each had to pick up two and march back to the camp, dump them then return for two more; 10 or 12 such trips gave us the exercise we needed and acclimatised us to the dry heat. What was unexpected was the blowing sand that seemed to get everywhere, in one's eyes and ears and sticking like a film to any exposed sweaty flesh; some relief came by eating one's food in the relative shelter of the tent but even so sand could find any chink to gain entrance. Ignorantly after dinner one day, mindful of instructions, I swallowed the two obligatory salt tablets; later I felt a little strange and then discovered the emetic properties of salt. Ever afterwards I took my salt in small quantities with plenty of water.

As its name implied the camp was only intended to hold troops until they could be dispersed to their various units; there were no recreational amenities available though we could purchase a local brand of cigarettes called Red Bird in packets of five for five fils (about one farthing each, old currency). We slept 10 to a tent, feet at the central pole and bodies radiating outwards; early on without being taught we learned how to dig a recess for our hips and over this area we spread our groundsheets. Though a bit firm our small packs served as pillows. After dark the only source of light came from a hurricane lamp, this was not always effective in which case it was swapped for a useable one from another tent when nobody was looking, standard army practice.

I forget how long we stayed there, maybe a week but then the draft was split up and dispersed and I was posted to Al Musayyib, some 40 miles south of Baghdad. However before I started the army wanted to get some useful work out of me and so with three others I acted as escort to an ammunition train going up as far as Mosul near the biblical city of Nineveh. We were supplied with canned and dry rations sufficient for the journey and joined the train in the evening with rifles, some ammunition for them, side arms and all our kit. An empty wagon served as our mobile quarters, empty that is except for straw or similar material to soften the hard wagon floor and we slept uncomfortably in shifts. On the first morning we awoke itching, sand flies had feasted on us as we slept fitfully; I think they really enjoyed fresh caucasian blood and we spent a while scratching and slapping.

With the start of the day deficiencies were discovered in our equipment, while we had tea, sugar and dried milk we hadn't any water or the means of containing or boiling it. One difficulty was overcome when we bartered cigarettes for a petrol can from some railside Arabs. Funny really because it was once part of British stores; it was a tall square-sectioned metal can from which the top had been removed; at the top a wooden bar stretched from side to side to form a carrying handle; it appeared to be clean and we assumed that it was. The problem of boiling water was solved when we asked the locomotive driver to blow some out from his steed. I learned years later that this was definitely not recommended healthwise but that's what we did many times and we survived.

The train stopped at various towns and villages on the way, As Samawa, Ad Diwaniyah, Baghdad, Samarra and lastly outside Mosul. At no stop did we venture far from the train we were guarding. The journey was interesting; except for the towns the land was light brown and mostly barren; in the open country flocks of sheep roamed with their attendant shepherds and this presented an almost biblical scene. To our western eyes there was one noticeable difference however, in the west the shepherd would be behind his flock, driving them but here he was in front, leading. Perhaps in this land of sparse vegetation the sheep relied on him to find the best grazing. We reached Mosul in the evening and our train drew up alongside an army camp, the lads there were enjoying a movie; the translucent screen lay between us and the audience and from our wagon we saw one hour of Mrs Miniver, back to front and soundless.

Discharged from our escort duty we boarded a passenger train heading for Baghdad and enjoyed the luxury of slatted wooden seats. I was quite excited with the anticipation of what lay ahead and could hardly wait to see more of the mystic land of the Caliphs. The train drew into Baghdad and as it slowed we could see more of the city, fine buildings mixed with mud brick homes, the Ishtar Gate and the minarets of mosques, the strange clothes, music discordant to my ears, porters bent double with unbelievable loads on their backs and the smells. At that time I had to be content with a passing impression because I was bound for Al Musayyib, to No.5 Advanced Base Workshops. That designation in the middle of Iraq puzzled me and it was not until many years after the war that I discovered the reason for it and the reason for my being there.

The workshops were some 40 miles south of Baghdad and a mile or so from the Arab town; the town was out of bounds to us but a metalled road from there passed between our camp and the workshops; we only ever saw military traffic on it. Both camp and workshop compound were separately surrounded with barbed wire, three coil dannert and apron was the official name for it. Individual shops were scattered within the compound, seemingly haphazardly and they contained equipment for which any contemporary British engineering firm would kill for.

Accommodation within the camp consisted of huts similar in design to Nissen huts but were built of local materials with low brick walls and pre-cast arches supporting curved roofs of straw reinforced baked mud. The floors were of course bare earth. Outside the end doors of each hut stood a large urn of unglazed earthenware, a chatty, kept full of water laced with salt to make sure we took our daily dose to ward off heat exhaustion. The water was cooled by the evaporation of the small quantity of water that seeped through to the outside of the chatty and it was very pleasant to drink. Non-potable water for ablutions and laundry was brought in through underground pipes from a source unknown to me, the river Euphrates perhaps, anyway the pipes could not have been buried very far beneath the surface because in the summer the water was quite hot. Again, using local materials, the screens around the unroofed showers and latrines were made of woven palm leaves.

We started work early in the morning, reveille was sounded by an Arab bugler (we didn't have one) at 6am, we marched off to start work by 7am, finishing at 2-30pm to take advantage of the cooler part of the day. Most of us were classed as tradesmen though we were constantly reminded that we were soldiers first and tradesmen second. Except for mounting guard at the officer's quarters we were exempt from guard duties, these were carried out by Indian troops within the workshops compound and by the Royal Sussex Regiment around the workshops and camp environs. At night they patrolled the streets in lorries equipped with twin Bren guns. One report had it that they once fired on one of their own corporals, hitting him in the legs. Often we would see them in the morning marching back from their duties whistling or singing Sussex by the Sea. Venturing into the workshop compound at night in pitch darkness as we were sometimes required to do was a different matter, quite an eerie experience in fact; the Indian guards were silent and one never knew exactly where they were though their presence could be detected by the faint clinking sound of the chain that attached their rifles to them To ensure that we were not mistaken for intruders we tended to announce ourselves by whistling. One would think that with all these guards the place would be impregnable. Not so. Frequently at night when we were at the mobile cinema sounds of gunfire would be heard coming from the workshops and sometimes there were bodies.

Heat I think was our greatest problem followed by sandstorms. The highest official shade temperature I remember seeing was recorded in Baghdad, 121°F, though inside the workshops I've seen the mercury register 128°F but this was enervating and little work was done then. In severe sandstorms we protected our eyes with goggles but exposed flesh was stung by blowing sand; although the lenses of the goggles were not tinted it was like viewing the world through the yellowish amber of Golden Syrup. In 1943 or perhaps it was 1944 I saw the nearly total solar eclipse through a sandstorm, with goggles but with no other eye protection.

During the summer months the prevailing winds came from the north-east, sweeping in over the Iranian plains, by the time they reached us they were bone dry, this was a good thing really because we sweated profusely in that heat and were rapidly cooled by evaporation. Occasionally for a couple of short periods in the summer humid winds would blow in from the Persian Gulf and then it was most uncomfortable, shirts would be sodden and dark with sweat and if they dried before being washed they would be stained white with salt. We had our laundry done twice a week by the dhobi but that was inadequate so we did our own in between times; in the bone dry air a pair of slacks could be worn 15 minutes after washing. One of our lads, mimicking the dhobi by bashing wet laundry on a flat stone was put on a charge for damaging government property; he was acquitted after enlightening the officer who obviously had never done his own laundry.

One piece of equipment supplied by the army for which I was very grateful was the chargul, a water bottle made of a coarse canvas similar to fire hose canvas that worked on the same principle as the chatty. Drawn new from the QM stores it would not hold water but had to be soaked until the canvas had swollen; filled with water and hung outside in the air it provided a beautifully cold drink in a fairly short time. This evaporation principle was also adopted to lower the temperature inside ambulances by means of a cuscus tatty; this consisted of a four-sided wooden frame with chicken wire front and rear, the cavity was filled with what we called camel thorn. Water was pumped up from a tank and sprayed over the unit; air passing through the moist camel thorn was then directed into the body of the ambulance to cool the interior.

No.5 ADVANCED BASE WORKSHOPS

The compound covered quite a large area the exact size of which I can't say but it was spread out over a vast expanse of desert with the various workshops located in no apparent order. There were no metalled roads but between the buildings a hard travelling surface was obtained by putting discarded engine oil over the loose sand and traffic soon firmed this up For heavier loads a two-foot gauge Decauville track was laid between the main buildings and trucks were hauled by a Lister powered locomotive. For off-loading really heavy equipment within the compound a metre-gauge spur line branched off from the main line linking Turkey with Basra.

When we first arrived the conversation centred around two topics, firstly there was the recent flea infestation that fortunately for us had now subsided; apparently this had occurred quite suddenly, lasted for a brief period and then unaccountably it was over. Perhaps Keatings had something to do with their departure. Secondly there was the tyre scandal. I was told unofficially that with the shortage of tyres amongst the Iraqi civilians some had been diverted from the British stores in exchange for cash and sentences had now been pronounced.

In those early days no master plan existed showing the layout of the installation and to remedy this deficiency I was quickly instructed in plane table surveying, a subject in which I had no previous experience. Jim and I spent weeks and weeks out in the sun wearing the pith helmets that had now replaced our cork topees, getting browner by the day as we toiled away with plane table, tripod, sighting rule and chain (well, we didn't have a chain but we managed with a 100-foot steel tape), gradually building up a map of the camp to our superiors' satisfaction. Just before this project was complete I was taken off for some other drawing office work. Not a great deal of real engineering work was done in the DO, mainly modifications to drawings to implement changes to armoured equipment; the six wheeled Staghound seems to be the one vehicle I recall. But one must not forget the other onerous duties, keeping up to date all the pretty coloured charts and graphs in the Company Office so that the clerical staff could see how many soldiers they had, where they were and how many were sick. We also had the task of addressing the parcels that the commissioned ranks sent home to their families as we could print more neatly than they could and anyway it was beneath their dignity to do anything so menial.

I suppose that now would be a good time to explain the reason for our existence in that area. Between the two world wars Britain had been awarded by the League of Nations the mandate to govern Iraq and had military forces in the country, notably the RAF in its permanent station at Habbaniyah; naturally some Iraqis objected to this arrangement and caused a bit of trouble but their big chance came when Britain declared war on Germany. Under their leader Rashid Ali they tried to drive the British forces out. A major engagement occurred at Habbaniyah but the RAF personnel successfully resisted them. The early part of the war had not gone too well for the Allies and by 1942 Germany had advanced in North Africa to the borders of Egypt and in the east was on the road to Tiflis (now Tiblisi). It seemed that unless these advances were stopped which at that time appeared doubtful the two armies would join somewhere in northern Iraq and drive southwards taking control of the oilfields of Persia and Iraq. This would have had serious consequences for the Allies.

There existed at this time in Shaiba a very large ordnance establishment, No.1 Base Workshops which besides being well equipped to service tanks, guns and other military hardware also stored vast amounts of everything else an army required. For this reason it was decided to interpose No.5 Advanced Base Workshops between Shaiba and the advancing Germans. That's why I was there. Fortunately the German armies were halted at El Alamein and Stalingrad so the personnel of No.5 ABW were later relocated.

Anyone who has worked in an engineering shop will recognise some of the sounds associated with various operations, for example a bench grindstone on being started up has a peculiar whine, very high pitched when top speed has been achieved; this is followed by a clatter as metal is presented to the stone. I heard this whine and then nothing. Why? I went over to this grindstone and saw a man grinding away at the sole of his gym shoe. The QM had issued an edict to the effect that no gym shoes (or shoes, canvas) would be replaced unless the soles were worn through. These shoes like so many other pieces of army equipment had been stored over a long period in the open air in the blazing sun and consequently their uppers had rotted. This lad had been left with a pair of fairly good soles but hardly any useful uppers and not wishing to fight the stupid edict, knowing he could not win, decided that he could beat the system.

The workshop compound was fairly deserted at night but the Company Office stood within it so night time pickets had to be supplied. The duties were negligible apart from lowering the REME flag at dusk and raising it again at dawn; there must have been a reason for this but it escaped me. The hours before bed were boring and lonely but looking around the place and viewing some of the documents was interesting. Apart from Army Council Instructions (ACI's) there were other papers printed on yellow paper, applicable to Paiforce, whose title eludes me now. One item caught my eye, I can't recall the exact wording but in essence it said, "If a soldier were to be executed then his next of kin should be informed that he died while on active service". Technically correct I suppose but why not tell the truth? To spare the family pain and disgrace? Or to protect he system and avoid answering awkward questions? As Churchill remarked, "Truth is the first casualty of war."

Drinking water supplied to the cooks was brought in daily in the evening in a two wheeled trailer that was then parked adjacent to the cookhouse ready for their early morning chores. Breakfast and evening meals were taken in the mess room in the camp but the mid-day hot meals were delivered to the various workshops by lorry; they were kept hot by being stored in "hay boxes" forerunners of the present day coolers and these too were kept adjacent to the cookhouse. I mentioned earlier that there was a severe shortage of tyres among the Iraqis, many civilian lories could be seen on the roads, well loaded and carrying as many Arabs as could possibly hang on, with only on tyre on what should have been a twin wheel. The British had tyres and the Iraqis were envious. Arriving early one morning the cooks discovered a hole in the perimeter fence and the axle of the water trailer resting on two hay boxes. The two wheels and their tyres were missing. The hay boxes had been placed under the axle of the trailer and the sand scraped away beneath the tyres until they could be freely removed. We knew where the intruders came from because there was a small Arab settlement a quarter of a mile from our camp.

The gap in the fence was repaired and a watch kept; some days later another gap appeared and expecting another attempt at stealing an ambush was set up. Two REME personnel (I was one of them) armed with our SMLE's and two privates of the Royal Sussex Regiment armed with Bren guns got into position after dark and waited for the intruders to appear. I wasn't too happy about this because it could be the first time I had a human target in my sights. Fortunately for me and the possible intruders the Orderly Officer and the Orderly Sergeant came along in their jeep, stopped by the gap, illuminated it with their headlights, then got out and inspected it, thus warning any watching Arabs that we were expecting them. I was very glad when daylight came and I still had five unused rounds in my rifle.

Not all nights passed so uneventfully however. One unlucky guard on the last shift of his duty going from the guard room to awaken the cooks interrupted a robbery that was taking place in the cook's hut. He was set upon and stabbed several times, he survived but the robbers escaped.

We were allowed leave on occasion, the nearest site for any sort of entertainment was Baghdad and we could take day trips there but could not stay overnight. When I first arrived there was still some residual hostility towards British troops and we were instructed to go around in twos and to wear side arms but this rule was later relaxed. A lorry was made available each Saturday and Sunday to make the somewhat uncomfortable journey into town.