LIVING ON THE SUEZ

Hawera Star, Volume XLVIII, 12 January 1929, Page 9

LIVING ON THE SUEZ

I wish that I had been on the bank of the .Suez Canal the other day to see the .Singapore dock pass, writes W.li-.8. in the Melbourne “Argus.” I would have stood on the high, sandy slope at the old militarv camp of Serapeum, in 'the shade of that welcome belt of trees, to conjure up afresh the memories of wonderful war years, the passing ships, scarcely moving, the activity all round, the great desert yonder, a blazing sun above, and happy-go-lucky soldiers in thousands. I wish that I had seen the dock, just as,. 13 or 14 years ago, we watened the liners, the warships, and the sprightly launches steam by, to the accompaniment of cheers and eoo-ees, the “Marseillaise,” or the National Anthem, and the inevitable banter.

Of the wartime preparations those on the Canal were unique in the picturesqueness and strangeness of their setting, in the variety of happenings, in the mingling of races, in the transformation of a peaceful and quiet waterway into a series of strong defence posts with .advance lines .being, thrust quickly into the desert. Toussoum, Gabel Miriam, El Kantara. (rapidly developing into an immense dump), Deversoir, Ferry Post, and pretty Ismailia —they bring back memories. In the earlier months of 1916 there were many thousands of Australians camped in or near the banks of the Canal. Some had arrived from Australia and others from Gallipoli, seasoned warriors, brown and muscular, with wondrous stories of fighting to unfold to the latecomers. Batallions had come down from Tel-el-Kebir to the little railwav station of Ain Goshein, at the back of Serapeum, full of tales of Gallipoli, and unforgettable Cairo. Others had travelled by rail to Abd el (Rahman, and others again reached the Canal zone by ship, including the Ceramic. Sometimes crowded troopships, strangely camouflaged, passed, with khalci-dressed Tommies packed a't the railings and in the rigging, chattering incessantly. They were bound for India of the Persian Gulf, or returning. As the ship moved by there was much arm signalling, much cheering, to be repeated as other camps were passed. Hurriedly a band would be brought to the Canal bank if a warship appeared, as they often did, .cruisers, monitors, destroyers, British and French. The Canal was a delightful place for. bathing, and always round the ships there would be seen th e black heads of Australian swimmers, most of them exchanging news with those on board, or I endeavouring to catch gifts hurled from the deck. I Not only Australians were there. Fot | a while Serapeum sheltered nuggetty

PAGEANT OF WAR TIME

Ghurkas and Hyderabad Lancers, tall, good-looking meii, content in leisure hours to squat in their tents and endeavour to converse with the soldiers from .Southern Seas, sealing their friendship with present of brown, crisp, distasteful cigarettes, or even a cooked preparation somewhat resembling flour paste. “Johnnie,” they called us. ‘ ‘ J’ohhnio-Hydorttbad Lancer brothers, '' souie nad learned to say.

nivery day swarms of “Gix>pos” arrived to assist in the Canal works, a motley crowd, burrowing in the sand like so many ants, though not so industrially. Tnese hordes of noisy workers scorned wheelbarrows, using hunureds of buckets instead, so that they looked like children on the seashore building mighty castles. What joy ,it gave tneni to receive our cigarettes, mid what fun to see one of their foremen descending upon them pell-mell to drive them, about their work, while he did the begging himself.

Camel-men came, sometimes a long line of them, with, water for the troops, This was carried in containers strapped on either side of the camel’s hump. How precious the water was! Behind the camp stood a well-equipped canteen, witn the dusky “George” as one or its most popular attendants, an expert m the provision of “eggs-a-cook.” The announcement o± - refreshments on sale included “Limonade,” “Soude Water,” and “Bacon Eggs,” with the assurance that all were of the “bestes qualite.” 'Many will remember the commotion on the arrival of a draft of men from Tel-el-Eebir, and how in their wrath at a supposed injustice they almost wrecked the canteen, sending the native attendants scurrying in dismay over th e waste of sand. Across the Canal the heavy, handworked punt moved almost continuously, to and fro, always crowded with men, horses, camels, and war material. “Get to it, Aehrncd!” orders a tall Australian.

The Australian menacingly advanced, and Achmed took his position at the punt handle with his fellow countrymen, to go through the task more or less graciously, chanting with the others meanwhile.

Down the stream again went the trim little launch, Alouetta, a familiar friend. Moored to the bank were native craft, with long curved masts* up which the members of the crew, were induced to climb and hang precariously from the extremity for a reward of a half-piastre. All is changed. Serapeum no longer shows activity; the high, sandy banks are practically deserted. The Singapore dock probably passed that way without a single encouraging cheeT.