ON A HOSPITAL TRAIN

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XXXV, Issue 8203, 28 July 1915, Page 8

ON A HOSPITAL TRAIN

SHIPPING THE WOUNDED HOME

WILLOCIIUA AS A HOSPITAL : SHIP.

(By Malcolm Ross, Official War Correspondent with the iN.Z. Forces.)

, June 8. A long hospital train was drawn up at the l/alaisKlp-Kubba station, ready to leave for Suez at 8.30 a.m. The 1 New Zealand wounded were already in it, lying in the cots of its white-paint-ed carriages, with the red crescent and star on each, for the cross does not hold here in Egypt. Colonel Hall, the Busg Commandant, the Transport Officer (a foreign representative of Nobel's, who had enlisted in West Australia), and the medical officer in charge (a dark, flat-nosed little man, whom I took for a Japanese), were olv.itting together on the platform, all arrangements completed. Further down the platform were a group of eight Australian nurses, who were to make the long voyage back to iNew Zealand' with our wreckage from the battlefields of Gallipoli. The New Zealand nurses already in Cairo had been lent to the Australians, and it was not thought fair, to send back some other Ne\y Zealand nurses who had just arrived. Another batch of 50 was dud to arrive in a couple of days. As we. steamed out of the station I found .myself with a little group of wounded and invalided officers, not complaining about their wounds; sorry only that they had to " get out of it": so soon. It was a long, hot journey of six hours to Suez—at first through interesting country, where the industrious fellaheen was tilling his lands and threshing his corn with the. primitive [implements that were used in the time of Moses. The nurses made us-tea, and, later, we dined on tinned fowl, bread,-and'lemonade. The little doctor busy with his papers, turned out to.be a Siamese. His already broad nose had at one time been 'further flattened by a sword or a dagger cut. He spoke English quite well, and had been in the Indian Army Medical Service for' many years. The ■ attendants on the train were tnrbanned Indians. It was' altogether :\ strange mixture—New Zealand wounded. Australian nurses. ,a Siamese doctor, Indian servants, and a. Scottish transport officer —such as one may see almost any day during the great war. At the few wayside stations where we stopped, curious little crowds of Egyptians—Arabs and others—gathered, nnd g.'ized at us. Presently ,the line left the. cultivated billiard-table ■fields ..that, stretched on either side as 1 far as the eye could reach, and we touched the. desert sands. It was curious to see the New Zealand wounded gazing from the carriage windows of the Red Crescent train at the remnants of Arabi's trenches and the little cemetery, with its trees and flowers, that holds dead British soldiers of a previous generation. , Ismailia, against the blue, of Lake Timsah, sped past, and then the Bitter Lakes, and the desert away on the right, where the people, still tended their flocks as did •the Ishmaelites of old.

The thermometer climbed higher arid higher, and tho dust sifted in through the smallest crannies, but there was never' ft word of complaint from the sSew Zealand wounded. They were ivell tended, hut they were not So chiveiy now, For. they could not help thinking; that they were going back on the long; trek—that they were going home ! • The weary months of train r ing; the desert marches; the Pyramids;, .the' Sphinx—all these were merely memories/ So, also, the assemblage of the great armada, at Lenmos; the landing on Gallipoli; the storming of the heights; and a hundred other things. Thpy were saying good-bye to Egypt. with all its strange attractiveness, "and setting their faces once more towards the land of their birth, where fairer find more wholesome scenes and the warm welcome of friends and relations' awaited them. They had been "outed." and the graves of trusty comrades were already- growing green on the heights of Gaba Tepe. Small wonder that they were silent and a little sad. Each man had a little time, as the train rumbled over the desert sands, to do a litt'n quiet thinking. And yet there was nub one of them but regretted he Was leaving his comrades-in-arms; not one but was longing'for "another go." Some even cherished a hope that they would once more regain the firing-line from f;ar-away JSTew Zealand. For most it was but a- vain hope.

Our train ran past the glorious blue of the; Bitter Lakes;' and on our. right in"■. /the' desert were . the wonderful shimmering. seas and faint islands and headlands of the -mirage.- -:. In the he:it of. early afternoon we pulled up in Suez docks. ■'And as we were, steaming in with our tired and weary wounded, another train, with young men in all their pride of pliant thews and sturdy limbs, was steaming slowly, out. And as they saw our men through the windows of the hospital train they cheered and cheered again. It was a greeting to .the battle-stained New Zealanders returning from the front from the newly-landed Australians, eager to get there. The light 1 and shade of war had coW together with a suddenness and rm intenseness that were stnrtingly dramatic. As our men waved back a greeting and the cheers of the Australians grew fainter up the line, one felt in the same moment a thrill of sorrow and a^glow of pride. -. At the station to meet us was Major Holmes (now A.D.M.S.), who had been sent down.specially to see to the medical equipment nf the ship, and Captain Mitchell (of Nnseby), the sonsor'medical officer in •charge. Captain Withers, of the N.Z.A.M.C.. was making the voyage with Captain Mitchell, while Colonel Will, invalided from the Zeii t'oun base, wns also-returning to New Zoal.md Major McKonzio was O.C. | ship. I So. next day, the Willoohra—troop'ship No. 21,-transformed into, a hospital ishin-W-Bteamed- out into thp gleaming waters of th'o Gulf of Suez, and took her way ■ towards' the Southern Cro^s with the first of the wounded ''.'.civ ZeaJaaders.