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.
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.