The New Zealand Division had been transferred to Syria and Lebanon in part to recover from the hammering it had taken in Operation Crusader. After the action in which Cliff was wounded, the New Zealanders had in fact captured Sidi Resegh, temporarily linking up with the garrison at Tobruk, but German counter-attacks had pushed them back. Several New Zealand-held points were over-run and many Kiwis taken prisoner, including at Whistling Wadi where Cliff had been taken after he was wounded. The following is written partly in the first person by Cliff, and the rest in the third by me ~ Ian
§
The Division’s mission in Syria and Lebanon had been to defend the heavy bomber airfield and to delay as much as possible any German invasion through Turkey. But no such invasion occurred. Rommel had instead opened his offensive in the Western Desert in late May, meaning that on 14 June 1941 the Division was recalled to Egypt.
Cliff’s letter from Aleppo was dated 15 June, and according to him 6 Bde left there just four days later. Brief as his time in Aleppo was, he’d got to catch up with some mates, including Jack Huggup, a Hikurangi man, and Len Hunter. It was Len who’d shared his ordeal dragging a wounded soldier to the New Zealand lines under fire at Sidi Resegh, and who’d later written to Cliff’s parents assuring them that their son was alive and well.
On the 24th he was back in Egypt with 26 Battalion at Amraya (possibly Amreya, a locality outside Alexandria), a British transit camp outside Alexandria. “Not a popular place.”
“From this point on,” he wrote, “for weeks, for months, life was chaotic. Either I didn’t write or letters didn’t reach home. My job is a radio operator required me to be able to write messages, so I was usually able to write. There was a gap between letters on 25 May and 4 August, except for one on 12 July. Apart from those I can only record those incidents that have stuck in my memory.
“Not until Montgomery’s arrival” —General Bernard Montgomery took command of 8th Army on 7 August 1942 — “were Junior Offices and Other Ranks given any idea of what was going on, so we were blissfully unaware of Rommel’s activities. We were delighted to hear a rumour that we were heading for Suez, where ships were awaiting to transport us to New Zealand.”
§
The official New Zealand History site describes the North African campaign in a few tidy pages, and includes a useful timeline. But helpful as it is, there’s no flesh on the bones. Writing later, Cliff’s memory of names and dates may have been vague and disjointed at times, but his recall of incidents was as vivid as ever.
When 6th Bde reached Alexandria from Aleppo the 24th and 25th Battalions were held back, as was Cliff’s unit, probably because of lack of transport. The 26th went up to Mersa Matruh with the rest of the Div, and then on to Minquar Qaim. There they were surrounded by German forces. The Kiwis broke out of the encirclement in a violent assault through the German lines on the night of 27-28th June. On that very night — Cliff wasn’t entirely sure of the date — he was on leave in Alex…
§
We visited one or two nightclubs and enjoyed a few drinks with the boys. Late at night, probably about 11 pm, a man entered the nightclub and stopped the show. All soldiers were to return to their units immediately. There was a mad scramble for transport.
After a few difficulties we arrived back to find the camp deserted. There were only two 3-ton trucks left and onto these we threw our gear and our many drunks. Some of them were unconscious — “out of the monk” as they say. The result, a heap of bodies and gear on each truck.
When I scrambled on board I found myself sitting on a rifle with the muzzle of it lying across a man’s face. With the truck immediately on the move it took some time to sort things out. Not that the soldier was concerned. He was unconscious.
What a trip that was. Soon after leaving camp we could see the gun flashes and a little later we could hear them. To make things more exciting, German planes were strafing the road as we travelled west. At one stage the truck stopped and those of us who were capable sought the comparative safety of the ground each side of the road. No damage, but a little later on, as we left the road, we saw a truck in flames, which reminded me that it is not a good idea to seek shelter under a truck when you’re under fire. There one could be wounded, and incapable, and burned to death.
As it was breaking daylight we reached Kaponga Box, or strongholds where I found myself attached to 26 Battalion. Kaponga Box, where many weeks before we had dug trenches and dugouts and generally fortified the area.
There we should have been secure, one would have thought, but we had no guns or transport. Our heaviest weapon was a mortar. It appears we held the enemy off by bluff until we managed to waylay a troop of 60 pounder guns who were in flight from the enemy. They agreed to fight for us, and fortunately we had ammunition stored in the Box. 26 Battalion Carrier Platoon had managed to score some new Carriers from the Matruh dump, so that helped too.
Next I remember being at 6 Brigade headquarters helping to man our inadequate communications. A retreat was contemplated. To quote Kippenberger’s book, a real flap was going on.
6 Brigade seemed to make little contribution at this stage, but 4 and 5 Bdes, with the help of guns and equipment, were very busy indeed. I believe that Brigadier Clifton had been ordered to evacuate the Box but refused. I remember his Batman being killed, and that may have helped him change his mind.
In any case we did evacuate more or less due East and I remember helping push a 3-tonner for miles through the soft sand. But I also remember the Brigade heading back into the Box on my birthday, 5th July, and me sitting most of the day in a hot dusty hole contemplating the future.
§
The Kaponga Box was finally evacuated again on the 8th.
“When the Brigade eventually arrived back at the front,” Cliff wrote later, “we were told that the Italians have made a valiant attack on the Box after we had left it. Supported by heavy gunfire they must’ve been extremely proud of their success.”
§
A few days later Cliff was back in Alexandria on leave. On 12 July he wrote to Dorothy about events since he left Aleppo a month ago.
He apologised for writing in pencil, which he’d heard would be insulting in France. Hopefully Dorothy wouldn’t take it that way but he had no pen. Elsewhere he wrote that he’d had no mail for two months, but he had received a cable from her for his birthday, and another from his mother, and he thanked Dorothy for hers, and was pleased to know that his own parcels had arrived safely back home.
§
I’m afraid you won’t have had any mail for a long time now, partly because I haven’t been able to write, and partly because we haven’t had the opportunity to post mail during the last week or two. I have three letters ready to post and, thinking we were going to be an action for some time, I sent them back to base with my personal gear, so they will be rather stale by the time I post them.
As you know we have been up the Blue trying to put old Jerry in his place again, but this time I haven’t seen much action. We did practically nothing and only suffered one or two casualties as a result of bombing and long-range fire. The rest of the Div have been into it quite a bit though, and the Jerries and Italians have more than felt their presence by all accounts. Who knows, we may see some action yet, and meanwhile we are just about fed up with their mucking us about from place to place, and wish they would make up their minds what to do with us one way or the other.
Before we went up, some of us, myself included, were lucky enough to get a couple of days back at Sidi Bishir, which we enjoyed very much after our long trip from Aleppo. It was terribly hot coming through the Euphrates Valley and must’ve been close to 130F. We were lucky enough to get a swim in the sea of Galilee, and what a relief it was to get into some cool — or slightly warm — water. We also got a swim at a place close to Kfar Vitkin, where I’d spent a week before, and another in the Canal. I swam across the Canal and back again so I will always be able to say I did that. It was a fair swim for me too for it was pretty wide at that point.
We are looking forward to a good tea tonight. We are told there is to be some good prime frozen New Zealand beef for tea.
Tuesday today and a nice hot day as usual. I went on leave yesterday to Alexandria and had a pretty good day. We set off on the trains to see about my washing. When we got to the laundry the Dobi man was asleep on the floor. We had a look around before waking him and I found my slacks hanging on the wall. They’d been wearing them, and altered them to make them fit. Only a fortnight since I left them there too. He had a very rude awakening, believe me, and out of my 11 articles of clothing he could only find three, including the slacks. I told him I wanted 75 piastre for the missing articles and threatened to bring the police if he didn’t produce it. They were worth much more of course but he went off on his bike and came back with 60pt which he said was all the money he had. I made him alter the slacks again buckshee and had to be satisfied with that. He had the cheek to ask me to pay for the alteration, and then for a cigarette before I left!
I just have to ignore the flies or I couldn’t possibly write…
We had afternoon tea at the Bath club next door to the New Zealand Rest Home and watched the boys swim for a while, then off we went back to Alex. Had an ice cream at the New Zealand Youth Hostel and a spell in the reading room. Went to the United Forces Club for a milkshake and then back to tea later at the Hostel. The meals were still as good as before. After that we wandered around and bought a few things we needed and left for “home” at 8 pm…
I must do some washing today and have a general cleanup. It is pretty tough being separated like this for so long, dearest, but I think with a lot of faith we’ll make it alright.
§
Cliff wrote later about Amraya, the “Tommy-administered transit camp in the desert” where the Kiwis were staying when back from the front. It was “not a popular place”.
We’d been there several times before for a night while passing through. There one met all sorts of men, Indians, Gurkhas, Ceylonese, Poles, Sikhs, English, Scottish, Irish, South Africans white and black, Australians and New Zealanders — all under the control of Tommy officers who seemed to believe that we underlings should treat them like gods.
The Sikhs were interesting. One day I found myself sharing a shower with several of them. None would expose their private parts and either wore underpants or a cloth. Their mass of hair must have been a trial to them in the filthy dust and heat of the desert. They wore turbans, frequently covered over their beards, and must have been as hot as hell.
There was a hall in the camp and one night we attended a picture show. The siren sounded and all hell broke loose. The show stopped and we were ordered out to slit trenches by one of the Tommy Majors, who to his great astonishment found himself subjected to a great deal of abuse from the mainly New Zealand audience. We would not obey, and asked him what the hell he was going to do about it. He could do nothing. I expect he complained to our officers, who would simply be amused. But that was the end of the picture show.