“WOT YOUR RACKET”

New Zealand Times, Volume XLII, Issue 9618, 26 March 1917, Page 3

“WOT YOUR RACKET”

THE MAKING OF AN OFFICER AN INCIDENT IN THE EGYPTIAN DESERT. The November sun was still hot at 9 in the morning as I node across the desert to what was then the railhead, writes Fred. E. Wynne in a recent exchange;- My horse was thirsty and thought ho was on his way, as usual, to the trough of brackish water that was all we could provide. He was irritated when pulled, across to the right, away from the beaten track, and inclined to argue the point. After yielding to curb and spur ho went slowly and petulantly over the steep sandhills. The slowness of his pace did not matter, as in any case wo had to wait for the camels following us with kit and servants. But his petulance interfered with my reading of the ideesrt, whoso morning sands are >ike a page printed in a part-known language, a record of the activities of all the birds and beasts, the reptiles and in/sects, that have been bu£y all night preying on one another, and, departing for the day’s sleep, have left behind them footprints on the sands of time os their begetters have done for thousands of years. ' The desert was embroidered with the complex, plaitlike pattern left by the big scarabs, followed by the traces of the deliberate march of the chameleons and l some of the larger lizards, and the little wavy tracks of smaller lizards. Even the black -ants can leave their mark on the receptive sand, and in smooth places which the wind has not been able to visit one may trace the track of creatures which below the surface, just causing sufficient disturb, ance of the particles over them to mark, their passage. There are footprints o« many mice and frats and jerbhils, and the interrupted tracks of jerboas, and the marks of many desert dogs and. jackals, and sometimes the larger, heavier pads of a hyena. And all these tracks, when followed up: and studded; tell of the triumphs and tragedies of the night.

“MORNING HATE.” We found the construction train not yet ready to return, and a kindly engine-driver gave me a bucket of fresh water lor the horse. As we waited in the sun a faint, humming told of an aeroplane about, and soon we found the white speck in the glaring blue of the sky. Through our glasses we could make out the sinister, hawk-like wings and the black crosses of a, Taube. “Fritz going for hia morning-hate,” said the K.B. officer in charge of this section of the railway, and very soon wo heal’d the dull thud of a distant bomb, then others, mixed with the rapid bark of a gun, and part of the sky was spotted over ’ with the white puffs of bursting shrapnel. “That’s our Archibald." said the R.E. officer, as the gun spoke; “thet blighter must be over our camp." The shrapnel bursts slowly enlarged, mingled, and faded away. We saw no more of Fritz. The morning hate was oyer. Then tools were loaded on to the train, the (natives swanned aboard, with the usual accompaniment of Shouts and gabbling, for the most trivial event always produces among the Arabs the utmost excitement they are capable of feeling. I was very kindly entertained by my engineer friends, and in their mess-tent wo found a very youthful subaltern extended on a hammock chair in an attitude of elaborate boredom. He was at once asked what damage Fritz had done.

“I don’t know," he replied; “I was just having lunch. The mess orderly saya there are five or six chaps laid out."

It was clear to me that the boy was intensely excited, ludicrously proud oi the accident that had placed him in the vicinity of other men’s deaths. I felt 1 conld almost have dictated the letter he was going to write home about it. There was something not altogether bad in his pose, but his C.O. was not imaginative, and saw nothing in it. “I would have been glad to have had details," he said, os he dismantled a tin of bully beef. -

‘‘Well, I suppose it’s somebody’s racket; it wasn’t mine," said the boy; "but I’ll go and find out, sir." He dropped bis illustrated paper and began to assemble his limbs with a view to rising from his chair, but he was in. terrupted. "No, no, sonny, I don’t want you to go now; the mischief is done, and the record of it will keep nntil wo have torn these -rations. As yon say, it is not your racket. But in future remember to stand up when I come in. For the present resume your study of the ‘Prattler.’ ’’

"I’m sorry, sir." . THE ACID BITES. I was even sorrier for him. I knew hs had rehearsed this scene, and his part had been utterly spoiled. We were all hungry, and chewed our food in silence. The silence was irksome to tho boy, and ho broke it. "I don’t believe in this order to scat ter.’’ he said nervously. "It may be all right for Gippy labourers, but our fellows ought to carry on, what over happens.’’ "It’s much easier for them to carry on if they keep alive,’’ said the C.O. He lit a cigarette and left the tent. The other officer and myself talked shop about subsoil water for about ten minutes until the 0.0. returned.

"Four killed and one'badly damaged," he announced, "and some camels. None of ours are hurt, but poor old Smith is done in. You remember him? The old B.A.M.C. orderly who was with us on the Peninsula? Most of him, is missing now. Only yesterday he told me ho was turned 50, had a wife and five kiddies and a little baking business in Lanca. shire. I shall have a nice real . stone cross sent up to put over him, and send a photo of it to his ‘missus,’ as he called her. I suppose you would like to be in at it?’’ ► “Bather, sir," said the other officer. "We’ll whack it between us." “But can’t I come in at it, sir?" asked the subaltern. He was sitting bolt Upright with a haggard face. He looked as if he was frightened of being sick. "No, my boy," said the C.O. “This isn’t your racket either." Later, as ho saw me off at the train, I said, ‘‘You were a bit rough on that lad.”

‘Wasn’t I?" he said enthusiastically. "He’s a much better kid than you mights think, and I’m going to make quite a decent officer out of him." Then with a chuck that nearly dislocated my neck the train started, and I never saw any of these people again.