Diary of Trooper Ion Llewellyn Idriess-1915-1916-Part 3

dreamt once he was
home in Australia.
Poor devil! We are
going back to night to
the desert. Of course they
won't shove the picquets
and guards into us
now. I'd stay in bed
for a week if only I
was a civilian again
12^th. Another silly gaw'k
act last night, the
regiment lying a mile
out in the sand on
outpost practise duty
The wind blew hard
all night, the sand
blew in our eyes and
ears and gave us a

rotten time. To day
the driving sand is
awful. Our eyes are almost
cut out, ears full of sand,
tucker full of sand. It is
wonderful how the

horses stand it. When
we left Serapeum we
thought we had left the
worst of the desert
storms behind us, but
misery is everywhere in
this for ever accursed
country. . . . . There are
some wild and wooly
Bedouins knocking about
here. A party of us were
on fatigue work yesterday
at the station, and

some Bedouins with their
camels walked past
some New Zealanders
Both lots of men stared
each other past, The
New Zealanders with
a "So you're the sort
of cuss we've got to fight
are you" sort of stared
and the Bedouins stared
bla back with their
jet black eyes that
seemed to measure
steadily their white
foes. The Bedouins all
wore a water bag
of sheepskin over their
shoulders, wore very
rough garments,

and walked with
a long, steady loping
stride, that put me in
mind of an emu.
They are very wirey
looking beggars,
but a regiment of us
would knock two
thousand of them kite
high. 19^th April. The 9^th L.H
had a wee bit of a
skirmish up the canal
the other day. The usual
rumours are going
about to the effect that
we are off again shortly
. . .  The weather is grand
lately, but very hot.
23^rd April Cantara.

Early morning. We 
moved off from Salhia
yesterday morning, and
to day are out again to
the desert. We hear the
Turks are there. The
Tommies in this camp,
all Kantara crowded around
last night, as if they
had never seen
Australians before
The Tommies are all
small, pink cheeked
decent little fellows.
7.15 a.m. Big news. The
Turks are attacking
five miles out and
C Squadron have
doubled out to them.

We are going inside
of half an hour, 12.a.m
It was very pleasant this
morning riding along the
canal, (1 p.m) I was
interrupted writing
this) and then crossing
the pontoon bridge. We
passed through a great
encampment of Tommies
who lined the way, interested
spectators of the
Australians. Then out
into the open desert,
on a hard made
road, redoubts and
bark wire entanglements
here and there
The reinforcements

who have not been
under fire yet, got a
little bit excited. The
same strange feeling
came over me. Then we
got word that the Turks
were attacking. "Load
rifles!" And then off,
in skirmishing order
across the white desert,
dotted here and there
with sand hills and
is low prickly bushes.
An hour passed, and
word came along that
Mr Stanfield had captured
two Turks, well armed.
So we began to look
about pretty closely.

And then, near the top of
a big sand rise were
about ten white tents, and
some camel lines. There
seemed something strange
about the camp. And
then our old doctor
spurred forward and
lying huddled still
on the sand we saw
two dead men. And
the camp seemed
somehow pulled
about. Then suddenly
we saw that nearly
all the camels were
lying in grotesque
positions. They were
dead. And then we

were sure that the
Tommies had attacked
and captured a Turkish
camp. And then wes
rode through the grove
of palm trees that forms
the oasis, ad then we
saw British yeomanry
horses lying dead,
shot. And then we
knew that it was
the Tommies who had
been attacked. And
then were mixing
with the Tommies
lying about very
tired looking, And
then were a group of
dirty Arab prisoners.

And under some
shady palms were
some wounded
Tommies. And then
were a group of 
Turkish prisoners, in
bright yellow uniform
and brilliant sash.
Then we dashed out
of the palms, and lying
in the sand clutching
his crimson breast
was a great Sudanese.
And with clenched
arms and bare legs
lay a dozen dead
arabs, clad in a
dirty robe, And
lying about the tiny

certain from the letters as to
who they came from. 20^th Sept
Yesterday afternoon all the
convalescents were gorged
with cakes and good things
at the Recreation Cricket Ground,
by the good people who have
been doing this ever since
the war began. Mr Harrington
handed me out a big box of
good underclothes, which is
mighty acceptable to myself
and mates. 21^st. I wish to
God this war was over.
Lately I am getting a great
longing for the glorious
bush again. How now
for an old tin claim,
even if I was clean
broke, and no tin 
showing, and mighty
little tucker, it would
be the free bush all day
and night, a man would
glory to be alive. I saw
Darby MacNamara and
old Trembath at the
Deaconess Hospital
yesterday. They are both
going to England and
then almost certainly
back to Australia. I
wish to Christ I was going
with them. 22nd Sept,
Gus Gaunt is about the
limit. There is a poor
miserable looking English
Tommy in the bed next him
yesterday we had grapes
after dinner. Gus leant 

3A

towards the Tommy. "What
ever you do don't eat those
grapes. They'll make your
stomach go sour. You'll
be sick again". The
frightened Tommy immediately
handed over his grapes
to Gustavus. That evening
poor Tommy carefully
peeled his two eggs for
his tea, and was joyfully
handing one to his
mouth when Gaunt
suddenly said "You
damn fool. Eating
those eggs with the
complaint you've got.
Why I know a man
with your complaint
who ate only one egg, 
 

4A

and he died of convulsions
an hour afterwards".
The poor Tommy laid
his eggs down, turned
his face to the wall,
and I'm nearly sure he
cried. Gus did a huge
grin, gently ate the eggs,
and smiled the smile
of the shrewd. I'll have
to give that Tommy a few
hints, or the silly ass will
starve to death. 29 Sept,
We are at Rasel-tin
Convalescent Home now
It is a splendid place,
enormous long corridors
everything scrupulously
clean, a big square
courtyard with Y M.C A. 

Good tucker and any
amount of it, served by
nigger waiters. Rules not
in the least oppressive, plenty
of leave, a fair amount of
piastres, and an adjutant
who is exceedingly well
liked by all the hundreds
of men in the building. We
are a mixture, but the
majority are Australians
and New Zealanders. The
roof of these corridors is
well paved, and in the
evenings we walk on
the open roof, which is
a splendid promenade
of great length. A stones
throw away is the
harbor, packed now 

with laid up sailing
vessels flying the greek
flag, with transports, an
odd American man of
war, steamboats of other
nationalities, and the
odds and ends of Egyptian
craft. Joining our right
is the Sultans palace, and
behind us the open sea.
To the left and encircling
the harbour is Alexandria
At night the close packed
vessels are all lit up,
Alexandria is lit up, the
stars are twinkling, the
American war boats are
signalling with colored
lamps, here and there arise
a queer native song. 

and life feels well worth
living, Oct 15^th 1915.
Showed Capt. Dy Dwyer one
of my ideas to-day, the
torpedo scheme. He is
going to send me to a
naval engineer of his
acquaintance, to get
the ideas looked into.
Oct 18^th. Capt Dwyer rang
up engineer to-day, but
telephone connection faulty.
Am waiting to try again
to morrow. Meanwhile
in the afternoon I went
down a part of the native
quarter, a portion I had
not been in before. As
usual the streets are
only a very few yards 

wide. In most places it
would be impossible for
two motor lorries to pass
each other. The shops
were tiny stalls crammed
one against another, and
the two main streets were
ablaze with color. Crimson
Egyptian flags streamed
everywhere, but only the
Egyptian flag, here and
there were stalls of big
crimson pomegranates,
fruit stall well got
up, stalls with the scarlet
fez and tassel, stall of
^quaint dainty shoes and sandals, of
many hued cloths, stalls
with their baskets of
different colored spices, 

and herbs, butchers shops
with their Egyptian meat,
sellers of water and
sherbert, makers of iron work
and hewers fashioners of wood, sellers
of all that the East requires.
And the tiny, pungent
smelling streets were crowded.
Scores and scores of dirtily
clad Arabs, and Arabs
not dirtily clad, but dressed
in a long underdress of a
shimmering yellow silk,
and expensive turban.
And many fine, big
bearded men. And
many Egyptians were
their, in their everlasting
fez, and there were
plenty Greeks, and 

numerous Armenians, and
some Bulgars, and also
the Turk was there, but
safe with these people,
many from sympathy,
and all from religion.
And there were many
women, and almost all
dark eyed, the crowd
moving, ever moving,
walking, buying, selling.
And big Egyptian carts
with their humble little
donkeys rattling along
the ill kept streets.
And the well doing
Egyptian women, with
the snow white veil
beginning from just
the tip of their tiny nose,