Part 8

Adjacent to our camp a mobile cinema put on films twice a week, these were mainly old ones that we had seen at home; with only one projector there was a pause as the Arab operator changed reels. Often he had difficulty with the numbering of the reels and this led to some interesting results, sometimes a murder would be solved before it had been committed. When such a mix-up occurred the restive audience would yell, "Get yer money ready, Shafto," harking back to similar situations in WWI. Waiting for an audience to arrive an Arab stood with his wares, beautiful green grapes that he sold at 50 fils a pound, about the price of ten good cigarettes. Someone had obviously instructed him in Imperial measures and, "One pow-und." he shouted as he weighed them on a primitive hand held scale using a railway spike as the nearest thing to a pound weight.

Besides being able to buy English cigarettes we could also get Canadian ones, Sweet Caporal but not all favourite brands were available at all times. The army issued a free ration of Victory cigarettes, a nondescript brand that were just about acceptable as a last resort and which were often given away to Arab civilian employees. We could get Palestinian beer and Canadian Black Horse but I never saw any British brands. Beer was rationed of course, I think it was two bottles per man per week and non-drinkers often used their rations for barter or for cash.

DESERT LIFE

The days passed slowly and routinely and the sweltering summer gave way to winter. Winter could not be described as being very cold but after the high temperatures the contrast was palpable. On six or so nights the water in the chatties would freeze and then we piled everything including our greatcoats on our beds and even then we sometimes shivered. Our huts were unheated but in some of the work huts primitive fireplaces were made. These consisted of two low brick walls 18 inches high, three feet long and about one foot apart. On top of these was a steel plate that carried a funnel at its front and a flue pipe at its rear; the funnel was fed through small pipes from two cans, one containing water and the other containing discarded engine oil. The two fluids dropped through the funnel on to a piece of pipe which caused them to splatter; oil soaked rags were used to start the combustion and then the flames quickly roared along under the steel plate and up the flue pipe. The heat was controlled by adjusting the flow of the fluids in the cans. Our small Drawing Office was so heated.

The office was also home to ants (small, medium and large) and red ants, mice, termites and temporarily to visiting hornets and scorpions. The termites built their tunnels of regurgitated wood fibre up one wall, along the insulated electrical wires and down the central wooden roof support to the nest that housed their queen. She was a bloated white creature. They were constantly building, repairing and enlarging the tunnels and nest. Red ants contested possession of this area and we watched the perpetual battles unfold.

Arab incursions into the workshop compound were a bit of a problem and in order to combat them the sergeant-major announced that the perimeter fence would be mined. The mines were really hand grenades, not the No.36 or Mills bomb but the No.69, a plastic cased type. I suggested to him that if he were to record their position then we could add the information to our map of the camp or record it on a separate map. He agreed. Off he went, several hours passed and then he and a couple of his accomplices returned. "Gimme the map." he politely requested and I did so. Now the scale of the plan was such that the whole area covered a sheet measuring about four feet by three feet. He looked at it for a bit and then stabbing at it with his stubby forefinger he said, "We put one or two here, some about there and a few in this part ---- ." Relative to the scale of the plan his stubby forefinger spanned about 20 or 30 feet so his information was useless and we never did have an accurate record of the disposition of the mines. Presumably after the passage of more than 50 years they have been discovered, probably to the disadvantage of the discoverers.

Our OC had an unusual name, Bonallack that was often mispronounced as bonny-lack and to remedy this gaffe a notice appeared on Daily Orders to the effect that, "The Colonel wishes it to be known that in the pronunciation of his name the accent should be placed upon the penultimate syllable." Uncomprehending soldiers stood around the notice-board saying things like, "Wot's 'ee mean?" or "Wot the 'ell's a penultimate syllable?" The kinder more knowledgeable types explained it to them. Of course this lesson was purely academic for as far as we lesser mortals were concerned we never had occasion to address him as other than Colonel or Sir.

It fell my lot one moonlit night to stand guard on the Officers' Quarters and I clicked for the 6-8 and the 12-2 shifts. The first period passed uneventfully and not much was happening on the second shift; I was wandering about, looking at the moon and counting the grains of sand and longing for my bed when I heard shots nearby. Duty called and I hastened to the spot where I believed they came from. In front of me stood, or rather swayed, a Scottish lieutenant; I assumed he was Scottish as he was wearing trews but in the British army one can never tell. In the hand that he was slowly waving around was a smoking Smith and Wesson. "What's up, Sir?" I enquired He continued to sway and wave. 'shnakes," he said, 'shnakes, there's shnakes in my bed." and he pointed. I followed his gaze to his bed that was out in the open since it was a warm summer night; his batman had made it nice and comfy for him complete with a tent type mosquito net. With my bayonet I gently raised the edge of the mosquito net and prodded the apparent corpse of the serpent; there was no movement; gaining confidence I approached closer to solve the mystery. The snake was in fact one of the tapes of the net, carelessly coiled on the pillow and he had put three bullets into it. I don't think he believed me as I assured him that all was well, I left him gently swaying and went back to looking at the moon and counting the grains of sand.

There were some lighter moments in the desert life, near Easter time a day's entertainment was usually organised, not quite a fairground atmosphere but something approaching it. A few more talented types showed of their skills on army motor cycles, some in trick riding and others in racing. One such fanatic was Johnny Lockett who after the war rode briefly for the Norton team until a crash involving a head injury persuaded him to retire from racing. The main event of the day however was the Donkey Derby where steeds were hired from local Arabs to take part in a series of races. A sort of auction was held in which bids were asked for various mounts; the successful bidders became the jockeys. Some sort of prizes, I forget what, went to the winners.

THE DONKEY AUCTION

Humorous situations occurred as inexperienced soldiers tried to persuade their mounts to greater efforts or in some cases even to start. The outcome of one race manifested itself when that good old standby of military law Section 40 of King's Regulations was invoked; Daily Orders informed us that one, No.732 Craftsman Smith, was charged with "conduct prejudicial to good order and military discipline in that on the occasion of the Donkey Derby he did wilfully and cruelly goad his mount with a railway spike." Needless to say he didn't win on either day. The day's festivities were often rounded off with a concert given by the Band of the Royal Sussex Regiment. A civilian lady singer appeared so frequently with the band that she was made an honorary sergeant.

We were more than a little incensed to read a report in one of the British newspapers of one of the infrequent visits of an ENSA show. A female member was quoted as saying that "bacon and eggs are no luxury in Paiforce." Poor dear, she obviously had been a guest of the Officers' Mess and didn't know any better.

Fairly near Al Musayyib was the ancient city of Ur of the Chaldees, the reputed birthplace of Abraham. It had been discovered and excavated in the 1920's by Sir Leonard Woolley; as with most deserted habitations in that land it first appeared to him as a Tel or hill, rising up above the surrounding flat land. I visited the site with a group led by our padre. Woolley excavated one half of the site down to below ground level, carefully preserving and documenting all he found; below ground level he found a layer of silt that he thought could only have been laid by water and thus he concluded that it was evidence of the biblical flood of Noah's time. I believe this theory has now been discounted. Below this silt layer were pieces of broken pottery and I picked one up. At that time it was quite a large part of the bottom of an unglazed earthenware urn but due to an unfortunate accident when my kitbag fell off a lorry I now have only a very small fragment. We wandered along the excavated streets that were bordered by low walls of sun baked plano-convex bricks and marvelled at the state of preservation. Although the Romans are generally credited with its introduction there was, dating back to a much earlier period, a semi-circular arch still existing. In places one could see, outlined by bricks, the formation of the rooms of houses. In the nearby museum were plans showing how the city was believed to have been laid out, dominated by the ziggurat.

A second trip of similar ancient historical interest was made to Babylon, again organised by the padre; the excavations here seemed to be on a much larger scale and had been made by German archaeologists at a time when Germany was extending her political interests in the area. They carted off quantities of the better preserved relics and displayed them in the Berlin Museum; whether or not they survived the bombing of WWI I don't know. Again we were amazed at the skills of the ancient artisans, building blocks fitting together with scarcely any visible joints. Bricks here were a bit different from those at Ur, they were about one foot square by four inches thick made of sun baked straw reinforced mud and in their centres many carried an imprint in cuniform characters that I was told translated into This was built by King Nebuchadnezzar. I have a portion of such a brick, not in this case purloined by me but given to me by another member of the group who got tired of carrying it The site had its own interesting museum and the whole was guarded by some smart Arab soldiers, members of the Arab Legion that had been formed after WWI by the British and that was under the command of Glubb Pahsa, an officer seconded for the job.

Iraq was a monarchy and the king at the time was a young boy, Feisal but because of his age the de facto ruler was a Regent; both were to be assassinated in the 1950's. In the interests of public relations our workshops made a model of an armoured car suitable for riding in and also a model of a two wheeled water trailer; these were presented to Feisal. He was not over-pleased however because the armoured car was not powered.

Quite a few Arab civilians were employed by the army in various capacities, some clerical and some labouring depending upon their abilities. In general we got on well together though early on I learned not to offer cigarettes from an open packet as ten would be accepted in one grasp with profuse thanks, rather I found it more economical to hand them out one at a time in which case I would have some left for myself. There were Iraqis who showed an aptitude for our type of work, some indeed who were smarter than we were and where possible they were trained as tradesmen. Some difficulties were encountered such as when a sergeant-instructor was told by his pupil that there was no such thing as the law of gravity, it was the pressure of air that kept things on the earth. Generally however the training was successful. Life was not without its humour, one trainee was given for his trade test two pieces of green wood to weld together, and he tried. After a minute the instructor said, "How're you doing, Johnny?" "Thik hai, Sahib." replied Johnny as clouds of acrid blue smoke enveloped him, smiling as he went about his impossible job. After a while he realised that he was being teased and took the joke in good humour. He was then given the real test which he passed easily.

Eventually the time came for No.5 ABW to disband. There were no special farewells but an informal parade took place at which we were thanked for our services; after that we dispersed but not before we set fire to the officers' latrines and enjoyed the sight of some tardy members fleeing the flames. I forget the actual details of our departure, we were split up to some extent and I together with others boarded the train, southward bound, heading for our new home, No.1 Base Workshops, Shaiba.

No.1 BASE WORKSHOPS

The name Shaiba covered an area in southern Iraq to the west of Basra, of indeterminate boundaries as far as I could tell; in fact although I've tried hard to locate it on several maps it doesn't seem to warrant a mention but it was the address for our tented transit camp, for an RAF station and for No.1 Base Workshops. Again the army establishment was in the middle of nowhere, flat empty barren desert all around; we knew where the RAF station was located because we could see the planes just as they appeared or disappeared below the horizon but we could not see any of the buildings. We did at times go across there by lorry if a visiting ENSA group was putting on a show, or to see a good film; I remember seeing a production of No, No, Nannette on one occasion but I didn't go there frequently.

The area covered by our workshops and accommodation was vast; I heard but never verified that the perimeter fence exceeded four miles in length. The buildings, both workshops and billets, were much the same as those at No.5 ABW but there were many more of them and they were equipped to deal with the assembly and repair of all types of fighting vehicles, guns and transport or any sort of engineering problem with which we may have been confronted. Working hours were set to coincide with the coolest part of the day, reveille at 6am, marching off to start work by 7am and knocking off at 2:30pm by which time the day's temperature was at its highest. Most sensible soldiers then stripped off and lay on their charpoys doing nothing for a while to cool down but there were some athletic types who decided to play soccer even though the temperatures were well above 100°F and they didn't seem to suffer from it. This period of our doing nothing appeared to upset some of our superiors who decided to put the concept of soldiers first and tradesmen second into practice and inaugurated regimental training sessions that took place later in the afternoons. There was some resentment over this order and this revealed itself in the reduction of workshop output, some vehicles having GO SLOW chalked on them. The hint was taken, regimental training ceased and production returned to normal.

MUD-BRICK AND STRAW HUTS, No.1 BASE WORKSHOPS, SHAIBA, 1945

Of the vehicles sent to us for repair some were too far gone to be put back into service though they were still driveable -- barely, and these were used for internal transport, delivering hot meals for one thing. Borrowing the word from India we called them gharries and Johnny Lockett removed from his skilled occupation of precision grinder was able to master his to the extent that he could drive around almost clutchless.

Our drawing office was six strong, one from an architectural firm, four from engineering firms and one, a sergeant, a free-lance artist. We had ample supplies of drafting materials and were generally well equipped though we had no print machine, only a glass frame for sun exposures and a lead lined tank for the water developing and fixing of prints. Besides cartridge paper and tracing paper there were plenty of rolls of tracing linen that were rarely used for the designed purpose, once the starch was washed out it made very nice bedsheets, a little narrow perhaps but quite useable. We had two types of print paper, one a standard blueprint and the other a brown line; these were called in army parlance ferro-prussiate and ferro-gallic respectively.

Insignias of rank do a lot to inflate egos and the Company Office WO came in full of his importance and the superior status of clerks, he demanded immediate attention and three prints of a particular drawing.

"What colour d'you want?" asked the sergeant.

"What d'you mean?"

"What colour d'you want?"

"What choice is there?"