With the Zionists in Gallipoli

by J. H. Patterson

While I was in Egypt a few things struck me with particular force: one was the inefficiency of the Police of Alexandria; another the appalling callousness of the average Egyptian in his treatment of animals.

It was an amusing sight in Alexandria to watch the police trying to regulate the traffic. The drivers would take absolutely no notice of the policeman's raised hand, and would dash recklessly over the crossing, quite regardless of what might be coming down the cross street. After being flouted in this way, the policeman would leave his beat, run after the driver and, on catching him up, engage in a wordy warfare for five minutes. The same performance would be repeated over and over again as each successive Jehu came furiously along at his best pace.

I also had some experience of the lax methods prevailing in the Passport Department—a most important office in war-time, especially in a country like Egypt, which was simply teeming with spies.

A couple of my men who had been sent from Gallipoli to the Base Hospital at Alexandria, owing to wounds or illness, wished to resign from the Corps and go to America, as they had no desire to return to the Dardanelles. I, of course, could not grant their request, so by some means or other (bribery, no doubt) they obtained a false passport, got on board ship and gave instructions to some friends of theirs to inform me, three days after they had left, that they were on their way to America and hoped I did not mind! To make sure that these rascals were not merely hiding in Alexandria, I carefully investigated the matter and found that one, at all events, had really sailed.

I have referred to the cruelty which the average Egyptian shows in his treatment of animals. To give one glaring example: there is a steep incline over the railway bridge near Gibbari, a suburb of Alexandria. Over this bridge, the slopes of which are paved with smooth stones, rolls a great part of the immense traffic which goes to and from the docks. Almost at any hour of the day one may see half-a-dozen wretched horses hauling overladen carts up this slippery slope, being unmercifully beaten by their drivers, and falling sometimes two or three times before they reach the summit. I say, without hesitation, that such a scandal is a blot on Alexandria, a blot on the police officials, who wink at it, and a blot on the British rulers in Egypt who tolerate such a state of affairs. A couple of thousand pounds should be set aside at once to remedy the grievous sufferings which are daily and hourly inflicted there on our unfortunate dumb friends.

I was told that a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals flourishes in the country. If a member of it ever goes up and down the Gibbari Bridge, he must surely turn a blind eye on the cruel sights which are to be seen there almost at any time, otherwise he must be shamed forever. This recalls to my mind a story which Gye once told me about a leading light of this Society who was on a visit to Egypt. He made a tour of the Provinces, and at each place he visited he was delighted to find that the officials were most zealous supporters of the Society. As a proof of their keenness for the League, they would conduct him to the public pound and show him numbers of maimed camels, horses and donkeys which they assured him was the day's catch. Of course it was all eyewash, as the wily officials had got news of the coming of the great one, and told the police to lock up the wretched animals for just as long as he was in the place and no longer.

While the Arabs show appalling callousness to the sufferings of animals, they often exhibit intense kindness and affection for each other; more especially does the Arab mother show great love for her child. A pretty story has come down to us illustrating this maternal solicitude. An Arab youth married a maiden whom he came to love passionately, but he had great love for his mother too, and of this the wife was intensely jealous, so much so, that she told him one day that she could never love him fully while his mother lived, and that the only way for him to secure her affections was to kill his mother and bring her heart as a peace-offering. The wretched youth, blinded by passion, committed this terrible crime, and, concealing his mother's heart within his gown, he ran swiftly to present it to his wife. On the way he tripped and fell heavily, and, in doing so, the heart fell to the ground. On picking it up to replace it, the heart said to him, "My poor boy, I hope you did not hurt yourself when you fell."

I related this story to a friend in London, and he said: "Now I will tell you a story of filial piety on the part of an English boy. He possessed a dog of which he was passionately fond, named Paddy. One day a cart ran over Paddy in the street, and he was picked up dead. The boy's mother broke the dreadful news to her little son while he was having dinner, saying how sorry she was to have to tell him that poor Paddy was killed. The boy was not very much concerned, and went on eating his pudding. Later on, however, in the nursery his Nana condoled with him on the loss of his pet, whereupon he raised a tremendous outcry, sobbing and weeping bitterly. His mother rushed up to see what was the matter, and on finding he was weeping for the dog, said, 'But, darling, I told you at dinner-time that Paddy was killed, and you didn't seem to mind much.'

"'Oh, mammy,' he sobbed, 'I thought you said Daddy—not Paddy.'"

Thinking this would be a good story to tell a little boy that I know very well, I related it to him, but as he took it very gravely, I asked him whether he saw the joke, and he said, "No." Now he possessed a black kitten, named "Mike," for which he had a great affection, so I thought I could illustrate my story by saying: "Well, now tell me which would you rather see run over and killed—Mike or Daddy?"