A few days later Cliff wrote from the Signal School, N.Z.E.F., Middle East Forces.
They were at 2NZEF’s main depot and training camp near Maadi, about 8 miles up the Nile from downtown Cairo. Although he couldn’t tell Dorothy exactly where they were, he did say he could see the pyramids in the distance and that they’d passed through Cairo. He’d seen his first camel too.
There was sand in every direction, as far as the eye could see. He’d swap it any day for the sands of Whangaruru, and the sea, cool and refreshing. It was surprisingly windy, and he didn’t think he’d ever complain about rain again.
They’d dug slit trenches as a precaution against air attack, and it was hot work. He’d never appreciated a good wash and shower as much in his life.
Hygiene was a concern too. Because there’d been some flu cases on board they’d spent the first few days in quarantine. They were washing their hands in Jeye’s Fluid before every meal. The food had deteriorated towards the end of the voyage but in camp it was good, and there was plenty of it — scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast, dry rations for lunch and a good dinner. Plenty of good tea. Sweets and soft drinks etc to buy and a choice of three beers. Rations included a Waitemata beer a day and cigarettes every week. The quality wasn’t the best — currently Mild Woodbines — and he gave up for a couple of weeks but soon felt the urge again.
Their routine was hardly exciting but it kept them occupied — parade at 8.30; a 1–1/2 hour route march; work until 12.30; lunch; compulsory rest until 4.30; more training then tea.
And they were pretty comfortable, seven men to a 15ft square tent, sleeping on straw mattresses mounted a foot off the ground on bamboo frames.
But the flies…
And still no letters from home.
There were animated discussions at night. One of the boys was an advocate for Yogi philosophy, so they’d “learnt a great deal, or heard a great deal,” about that, as well as telepathy, different religions, spiritualism, ghosts and heated debates about the merits or otherwise of Pommy soldiers. One of the men claimed to be communicating with his wife at 9 pm every night by telepathy. Cliff wasn’t entirely dismissive.
By the end of the month a few of them had been attached to Base Signals, although they expected to be back in training school soon. Cliff was working as a despatch rider. His motor bike was the same model as old Gertie — no Dorothy on the pillion though.
He caught up with his old mate Wally, who’d been in camp quite a while. They went into Cairo together without a leave pass. They passed through the Dead City, named after a plague that had killed half the inhabitants. The men called the locals “wogs” and “gippos”, but he thought Dorothy would prefer “Egyptians”. He wasn’t impressed by the disrepair of most of the stone buildings. They visited the palace and various other places of interest, including the New Zealand Club — “a very nice place indeed” — had their boots polished by one of the pestering boot-black boys, and fended off more boys trying to sell them peanuts, cigarettes, fly swatters, soft drinks, razor blades etc. His first Arabic expression was “Go away!”
A fortune teller on the street told him he would go into active service, kill many men, return home unwounded in six months and be discharged in ten. “I have no desire to kill anyone but I hope he’s right.”
On another day they went out to the Pyramids. They didn’t look very impressive from a distance but up close they were tremendous. They walked down past the Great Pyramid to the Sphinx and the tombs — massive pillars and granite slabs, all fitted together perfectly — and wondered how it could’ve been built 2000 years ago.
They walked back to the Great Pyramid with a couple of Indian troops they’d met and began to climb. Halfway up they came across a South African captain, his Batman and guide, who were having a breather. They set off to finish the climb together. It developed into a race that the Kiwis won.
“It took us 15 minutes and we were done when we got there. The view from the top is marvellous indeed. There is a good view of Cairo and you can see for miles up and down the Nile Valley. We took several photos, and Wally took a couple of the Captain and his Batman. We yarned up there for quite a long time and then climb down in seven minutes. Out to break records evidently.”
The South African officer shouted them a few expensive drinks, and they finished off the day with bacon and eggs followed by fresh strawberries and cream for tea.
Climbing the pyramids has been prohibited under Egyptian law since 1951-2 ~ Ian
§
Wally, who was a medical orderly, hadn’t changed a bit. True to form he’d met up with a Syrian girl named Mary who worked in a camera shop. That meant Cliff could get his film developed and pick out the best shots so he didn’t have to pay to print the rejects. Mary tried teaching Cliff a few French phrases, and a local boy some Arabic.
The censors struck again and held back five photos. Cliff was luckier than his mate Harold. Harold got back four photos and the censor kept the rest.
§
Cairo — and the Army — were testing in another way. “Thank God I have you to love and there is such a place of New Zealand. This place is rotten morally. Life is disgusting in comparison to our ideals and teachings. It is easy for a man to go to pack. Having you just makes all the difference. Some chaps just don’t worry. “When in Rome do as the Romans do” seems to be their motto, and yet perhaps it isn’t fair to criticise.”
§
Dorothy’s first letter, dated 6th of April and mailed to Trentham, arrived on June 13th.
§
Cairo continued to be revelatory. When Wally wasn’t available they hired a guide, Abdul and visited the Museum of Hygiene, an eye-opener with illustrations of every part of the body and ghastly representations of what could afflict them. Hungry, they went to an elegant establishment where the food was served with great flair but left them wanting more, and the coffee in egg-shell sized cups.
The entertaining Abdul took them back to the pyramids with full commentary, and they had their photos taken on camels and mules. His mate beat the asking price down from five Akars to two, but Cliff still wouldn’t bite. “OK, one Akar Mister!” He had his fortune told again, and the news was still good except that he had three friends in camp and one of them was two-faced. Abdul reckoned this same fellow had predicted a certain Captain would lose his arm in the Western Desert, and so it proved. The Captain returned minus his arm and gave the good man one hundred piastres.
§
There had been two severe German air raids on Alexandria, and Cliff was sure Dorothy would have read about them in the newspapers.
“XXXXX were said to have been killed the first night and XXXXX or XXXXX hundred on Saturday night. I think that is an exaggeration though. XXXXX are said to have evacuated the city.”
Again the censor signed his scratchings. It was hard for Cliff to express himself to Dorothy, knowing everything he wrote would be read.
§
Training had been intermittent, Cliff reckoned — he’d spent most of his time working at Base Signals — but it seemed that some of the unit would be transferring to Divisional HQ from Signal School, and that he was likely to be one of them. That would mean moving to another camp nearby.
“We are speculating, all of us, about which unit we will be attached to. That’s the trouble with Div Sigs. It’s impossible for us to stay together all the time. There are some interesting jobs in the offing and I’m looking forward to the day when we know to which units we are all going to be attached.”
§
Sure enough his next letter, in late June, was addressed from K Section, 2nd Divisional Signals, attached to HQ 5th Infantry Brigade, 2 N.Z.E.F.
5th Infantry Brigade was under Brigadier Hargest. The Div Sigs CO was Colonel Allen, who interviewed them all personally. The OC of K Section, in which Cliff was an Operator, was Lieutenant McFarlane.
There were several Hikurangi boys in 21 Battalion, which was part of 5th Infantry Brigade. Cliff hoped to to see a fair bit of them, and in fact went into action with them later at Sidi Resegh.
§
The trip to their new quarters had been beautiful, driving along the banks of the Nile and through the pretty town of El Maadi. The locals, with their mules, horses, cows, donkeys, sheep, goats and water buffalo, made a curious sight.
“You see hundreds of them harvesting wheat, and watering and tending their crops generally. The valley is very fertile.”
The huts they were housed in were filthy but they soon had them cleaned out. After a couple of nights sleeping on the concrete floor they were issued with palliasses.
§
There was more war news. A friend had been left behind in Crete, one of a couple of hundred New Zealanders fighting a rearguard action. Cliff didn’t know whether they’d fought to the last or been taken prisoner.
And, “Russia is in the war now, and I think a few months should see the business through.”
§
A few days later they were back in the “dust bowl” again, struggling to put up tents in strong winds. He and a mate went down to the Church Hut afterwards for a supper of biscuits and lemonade, and relaxed in the cool and slept soundly. They were ten men to a tent, and theirs was a musical lot — one man with a violin and ukulele, another with a Spanish guitar, and a third with a flute. Cliff with his mouth organ. Brock, with the flute, was a Salvation Army Band master and wrote music of his own. He was playing Ken’s violin as Cliff wrote. Ken couldn’t abide the awful four letter word in frequent use. He was a widower with a beautiful daughter whose photo was frequently on display.
He and his mate Bill went down to El Maadi, hired a couple of cycles and rode around the township.
“It is a beautiful place, Dorothy. I would love to be able to show you around some of the places here.”
§
He went to see Wally, who was in hospital with the flu and having a hard time of it. Wally gave him a letter to take to Mary in the camera shop. Mary didn’t know Wally was ill, and was worried because he hadn’t been visiting. Cliff didn’t think much of Wally’s moral views, but the Syrian girl seemed to have had an influence on him, and Wally, who hadn’t told his mother or anyone else in New Zealand about her, was “behaving himself remarkably well”.
When he visited Wally again a few days later he came away thinking that he’d be on his way home in a few weeks. In fact he would have been on his way already if he hadn’t pleaded against it.
“He’s silly if he does the same this time as he’s only asking for trouble, staying here making himself worse. I feel very sorry that he is going, though. He is a great pal, Dot, and I’ll miss him.
“I don’t know what he will do about Mary, who is a great problem to him. She’s a very nice and decent girl and thinks the world of Wally, and I can see that he thinks a terrible lot of her. It’s going to be a hard blow to her if he leaves her. Still she is young and I daresay will soon forget and find someone new.”
But if they truly loved each other they’d find a way.
“I wish I could see you for a few minutes, darling. It would be heavenly. Wally and I talked about old times last night and it made us both terribly homesick. Tell Mum and Dad I send them the best of love.”
§
The last letter he received had been posted 2–1/2 months ago, but then in early July three arrived at once — complete with a photograph, which he showed around. “Gosh! She’s nice, Cliff.” said Bill.
By that stage he was less than enthusiastic about the music in their tent. Someone was trying to learn the violin.