AT FORT CAPUZZO

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 205, 29 August 1940, Page 6

AT FORT CAPUZZO

SUN, FLIES, THIRST.

A GUN DUEL IN LIBYA.

(By JAMES ALDRIDGE.) EGYPTIAN-LIBYAN BORDER, Aug. I.

Almost literally sitting on the barbed wire fence which forms the border between the British and Italian forces, your correspondent is writing this dispatch as the British artillery in the background pastes hell out of the Italians in the most northern and most important fort of Capuzzo.

You can hear the shells whizzing over, pushing-the air before them; and 2000 yarde away you can see Capuzzo, the target being clouded with dust as the shells land in the courtyard.

There is a short interval between the sound of a shell from a gun behind you and the sound of the same shell exploding before you, and this interval is filled by the roar of Italian artillery, which ie trying to shell some buildings over toward the right.

This artillery duel, in which many guns on both, sides must be involved, hae been goiinr on fairiy steadily for an hour and will probably continue another hour, until a haze sets over the desert ami makos artillery fire almost impossible because a mirage covens the target?. Overhead a few minutes ago flew two British 'planes, which were pepj>cred by Capuzzo's anti-aircraft guns, unsuccessfully, but dangerously for anybody lying stretched out here on this bare desert with tover almost nil against falling shrapnel. Italian 'planes were over Uβ earlier in the day, but they did not venture far. Moat Active Land Front With intense artillery and air action, plue tank raids and armoured car patrols by the British, this particular spot is just about the most active land front in the war at the present time. Even so near ae Cairo one can forget that a war is going on, tout out here it is different. For me the whole worldright now fc this little bare etrip of desert around about, with the sun hot overhead and the flies of Capuzzo everywhere. There is war here, real war, maybe comparatively small, but ten«e.

The whole scene here is like a movie set. The desert is real, however, and ! rocky, with, endless saltbueb. about Gin high. Capurao'e defences have been strengthened recently. There are more 'planes, more men, more supplies than when Italy first entered the war. Certainly 1 eince Marshal.Balbo was killed and Mar-1 shal Gr&ziani took over there hae been a change in attitude towards the British armoured car patrols, which have been filtering 60 and 70 miles into and through Libya and more or less wandering about as they pleased. The'extent to which Italy could prepare any big-scale operations in the direction of Egypt is completely dependent on the terrain,, on supply lines, and on water. Water ie everything in the desert. The Italians know that ae well ae the British or anybody else. Your reporter has travelled 200 miles along th» frontier over mostly virgin rocky desert, trackless, waterless and dusty, infested by millions of flies. I was dipping into* my water bottle every half an hour, until I was warned against doing so. Extremes of Temperature. The thoughts of military men and their reactions toward the fighting operations all have water as their central point, and you get the -same feeling vourself after having been in the desert awhile. Sand, heat, flies and desert transport are next on the list of drawbacks.

When there ie fighting to be done, it is in the morning or evening. By the time the sun sets it is getting cold and by 2 a.m. it is cold, wet and misty. It was so cold some nights that I had to eit in front of my car with the motor running to get warm, and yet by midday next day it would be 120 or 130 in the shade.

Under such conditions it is hard to keep alive, let alone fight. Yet the troops here are in wonderfully trim shape. Except tor the tenseness of the war, they have a smiling, normal attitude toward life. I can see a British Tommy now walking and crouching between the sand dunes, swinging his tin hat, as he goes up to relieve some observation post. He is whistling "Night and Day" as he gradually dieappears in a little *kirl of dust. Dust is the first thing you notice out here. You can see a swirl of dust from a i car for miles, and it is a give-away for j observation 'planes. Capuzzo is now disappearing in a bar-! rage of dust and a mirage which is climb- j ing over a hill near the fort. The art il-; lery is still going, and there is a 'plane somewhere overhead, but some of the j guns are slackening their fire, and they will soon cease roaring. Always the Sun. The day's action is usually started by a British tank showing itself somewhere under the Capuzzo garrison's nose, causing the Italians to open fire, not on the tank but on other objects around it. The British artillery replies immediately on Capuzzo or the Italian batteries. Although this goes on regularly every day, the British are prepared for any surprise. I hear footsteps behind me. and my heart jumps, for you have a feeling that here anything can come on you from any direction. But this is a British officer, who smiles at seeing me sitting on the sand typing and at the same time trying to keep millions of flies away and shade myself. "The officer says: "Well, it's about time for a cup of tea," "What about the guns?" I put in. "Oh, they will finish at any moment now. Don't you want to come back for tea?" Like the artillery, my typewriter will not last in the sun, and besides my hat is getting heavy, and the ilies are out of control. The artillery is stopping now. The sun is climbing in a swirl of dust. In the distance a car is moving ofi*. There is a tremendous silence now, no guns firing at all. It seems there is no war, no anything but the quietness of the desert and the sun, always the sun. I begin to wonder if there is any world beyond this bowl of sfcy and, this stretch of sand I can see beneath it.—X.A,N.A.