[2002] SID’S WAR

0078 - Sidney Lane War Diary 17

[this is an extract of the war diary, 'An Ordinary War', by my uncle (Sid Lane, my mother's brother travelling via Baghdad to Persia, with Sand-Fly Fever putting him in hospital]

16/8/42

Embarked on the "Bergensfiord".

18/8/42

I'm sitting in the Sgts. Mess deck on the "Bergensfiord" troopship. It has been an open promenade and has big windows letting in the cool sea breeze.The ship is rolling and through the windows you get a view first of a broad expanse of sky and then a broad expanse of sea. One of the Sgts. is playing an accordion, and playing it remarkably well. I am sat back, in my chair, smoking my old pipe filled with my favourite tobacco. It's one of those moments to remember. Good company, - comparative comfort and a contented mind.

A soldier could only ask for one thing more, a glass of beer. It's a thing I have come to appreciate since I joined the army and even more so since I came East

27.8.42.

Disembarked at Magil-Basra. We landed at night and were taken by train and lorry out into the desert. We were very tired and after posting sentries, just dropped down on the sand and slept. I woke at about 5.a.m. and found we were in a salt desert, that is, salt bushes grow round about. It was quite pleasant, until the sun began to assert himself and the flies to pester.

29.8.42.

My God, this must be hell itself. It is hell. Never have I, in my wildest dream, imagined anything as hot as this: 125 in the shade they say: - and there is no shade. From 10.a.m. till 3 p.m. we just lay in the shade and sweat. We lose so much salt in this way that we are compelled to drink a mug of brine each day. No matter how much water or tea I drink, my mouth is always parched.

It is well nigh impossible to get a cool drink, for the pipe that supplies our camp comes 12 miles overland; from 10 o'clock onwards the water from the tap is practically boiling. Only at evening is it cool. Of course we endeavour to cool it and the best way is by means of a chuggle. This is a canvas water bottle holding about a half a gallon and as the soaked canvas starts to steam, the currents of air so caused kind of cool the water in the bottle. We also made a practice of catching the drips in a mug or mess tin, but you had to keep your eye on it or someone grabbed it just as you thought there was enough for a drink.

Although we are camped in the desert, it is not the same as in Egypt. There it was possible to see for miles, but here there are small shrubs which break up the view, and apart from the glare caused by the bright sun on the sand, it is not unpleasant.

I must qualify that statement. I had forgotten the flies.

The nearest habitation was an R.A.F. camp,(Sheiba), five miles away and we used to trudge over the desert in the dark. Here we used to get a meal at a native cafe which we called "Smoky Joe's" and believe me it was some dive. This camp has a swimming pool and we used it whenever we could. We also saw an E.N.S.A. show there: the best laugh since I left England. Unfortunately we missed our way driving back in the dark and had to spend the night, clad as we were, only in shirt and shorts. I know now the meaning of the phrase "When the sands of the desert grow cold".

18.9.42.

Left Sheiba for Baghdad. We travelled all night by train and were then taken by lorry to Quetta Camp a few miles out of the town.

I shall always remember Baghdad, for although I did not partake of the "head cook's pottage", I did have some really glorious meals there. Of course there was no blackout and at night the town and river were a sight to remember. I had only two nights in town and then I went down with Sand-fly Fever.

I did not report sick and had almost got over it, (it is very much like a severe attack of flu), when my nose started to bleed. I passed out a few times and finally found myself being helped out of the ambulance into hospital. I stayed a week and did I enjoy it. There was nothing wrong with me and the grub was great. When I was discharged, I found that the Regt. had got it's guns and equipment and had moved off. I spent a week in a rest camp waiting for an up country convoy and of course I saw a great deal more of Baghdad in that time.

Then came the journey by train and lorry, staying at various rest camps at night.

As we got further into the mountains of Persia I began to change my opinion a little. However that was only reaction from flat desert. I now realise that it is just as much desert even with the mountains.

I reached the Bty. at a place called Kermansha (at the point where Moses is said to have struck the rock and brought forth water: indeed this was our water point). Training was in full swing and the troop was always popping off on manoeuvres. As my equipment had not then arrived I was usually left in charge of the rear party and so had a comfortable time.

We were allowed to go into the near-by town and it was there that I first came into contact with the Persian market. I don't think there can be anything like it anywhere in the world, and it is impossible to describe it. Still I will try.

Imagine a closed in arcade, low roofed and bricked, a gutter running down the centre. On each side holes in the wall, and in these holes the merchants display their wares.

The cobblers make their shoes and saddlery. Bakers their cakes and sweets. Silversmiths, carpenters, potters, drapers, glass-blowers, blacksmiths, carpet-makers, weavers. The whole place full of clamour, bright colours, smells (pleasant and unpleasant). Now you have to side-step quickly to let a laden camel with a highly supercilious look softly pad his dignified way down the arcade. Now you are rudely pushed aside by two donkeys walking abreast with great panniers at their sides. They are whacked onward by the driver. He curses the donkeys and everyone curses him. The merchants each have a frame of beads [an abacus], such as you used in infants school, and they use them for their calculations much as we use a ready-reckoner. But don't think that their knowledge of commercial arithmetic is elementary. They are as cute and sharp as the most mercenary Jew in England, and you will quickly find you have been swindled.

Yes, you can learn a lot in a Persian market and it really is a fascinating place.

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