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| Red Sea Hills |
The
next instalment of My grand-uncle's war memoirs.
In
March 1940, it was suddenly brought home to us that the peacetime
footing that we were experiencing was about due to finish. Twenty of
us were alerted to pack our kit and a couple of days later boarded
the Sudan Railways train for a thirty-six hour journey, via
Atbara,
to Summit, in the Red Sea Hills.
We
were to prepare a camp for the Squadron to arrive in approximately
two weeks time. Ten Miles away from the railway station of Summit we
swung mallets day in, day out, putting up dozens of tents, making
fuel dumps, hiding them with bushes. We had dozens of Sudanese
working for us, including Fuzzy Wuzzies, but the latter, a
very independent tribe, soon disappeared. Labouring was not their cup
of tea. At first we were called Cathargo. But later we were renamed
Erkowit.
A civilian rest camp existed about three miles further into the
hills.
About
a week after arriving we were in our small tent relaxing. It was
dark, about 7 in the evening. All we had was a small paraffin lamp
with which to read.
Through
the open flap we saw some bare native legs. On investigating we found
that they belonged to a very excited Fuzzie Wuzzie and not
understanding him took him to our Officer in charge, a medical
Officer, who had a native foreman / translator in the next tent. We
then found out the reasons for his excitement.
An
open three-tonne lorry, carrying about twenty Sudanese, was returning
to Summit after laying telephone lines and the Cpl driver had left
the sand track at speed, buried its nose in a ditch and catapulted all
of them into the air to land about ten to fifteen yards ahead of the
crashed wagon. When we arrived in the dark we found that six were
already dead, others had broken arms, legs, pelvises, all very badly
injured joints like footballs, terribly swollen.
We
did all we could to help, bandaging, splinting, making them as
comfortable as we could. Our paraffin pressure lamps were attracting
all manner of insect life: scorpions, snakes and a few wild dogs
which were dispatched as quickly as possible.
Two
extra wagons were obtained from 223 Squadron at Summit and our long
journey was started through the Red Sea Hills, on a terrible track,
mostly a corrugated surface, to the Port Sudan Hospital about forty
miles away.
What
a journey in the dark. We arrived about 6 o'clock in the morning,
about 10 mph.
The
wagon I was in carried the dead natives. Standing in the back, an
open wagon, the blankets covering the bodies, because of the
vibration and rough surface of the road, were always sliding off. I
was sure that one of them, a huge Nibian who had died with his eyes
wide open, was still alive. There was a full moon shining down and
seemed to reflect in his eyes. Was I glad when that journey was over!
Arriving
back at our tented camp about midday, having been up for about thirty
hours, and after having a meal, we all fell asleep.
Next
day off we went again, swinging mallets.
The
day before the
Wellesleys were due to
arrive we were given five rounds each to try our hand at shooting a
gazelle. But they were too alert for us. Cpl York though told us not
to shoot an ostrich, came back with an ostrich feather beaming all
over his face. He, and his two partners, were rapidly given shovels
and told to go and find it and bury it quickly. They arrived back
after dark. It was forbidden to shoot ostrich.
The
Squadron arrived over the next few days and settled in.
Familiarisation was the main task.
Our
beds were two trestles, nine inches off the floor with three planks
about ten inches wide each. Palliasses
filled with straw. Water was rationed to two gallons a day. A shower
at night consisted of one standing in half of a petrol can to catch
the water being poured over one's body. You had to shave in the
morning. The water bowser arrived every day from Summit Railway
Station.
The
billet boys from Khartoum also
came with the Squadron to Erkowit. When they found that they were
carrying gallons of water for thirty bods every day, hundreds of
yards to the tents, they suddenly disappeared back to Khartoum.
Word
was sent back to Khartoum to put them on the 'Black List' and not to
employ them in the camp.
Sinkat
was a railway station with a large Army camp about twelve miles away
through the hills. Sections were allowed to use their flight lorries
to go for a swim in an old disused railway turntable filled with
water. After tea, a short film and then back home in the dark.
A
Senior
NCO,
armed, was always in the passenger seat in the cab. Returning from
one trip we were suddenly chased by a pack of about twenty wild dogs.
Travelling slowly due to the rough track they were even trying to
jump into the truck. The SNCO got out onto the running board and with
his revolver fired into the dogs. One went down and was immediately
set upon by the others and torn to bits. We left them behind but a
mile or so later they appeared again and the same thing happened.
An
ingenious way of supplying mugs of tea by the Sudanese NAAFI Manager
was witnessed. He had a cut-down forty gallon drum, filled with old
engine oil to a depth of 7 inches (18cm) or so. The oil was heated
over an open fire. Beer bottles were lowered into the oil, where they
immediately cracked straight across the oil level, clean as a
whistle. A rub with a piece of emery cloth
blunted the sharp edges. Cleaned, they were then the new mugs for
serving tea, no handles though. Pint mugs were unobtainable.
Sinkat,
the Army Camp, was in a valley surrounded by hills and had been an
Army-established camp for decades. On the surrounding hills the
regimental crests of all the regiments that had served over the years
were imprinted in the sides, huge crests a hundred yards (91m) long.
We
had heard a story, on one of our visits, that there had been a big
fight between two of the regiments stationed there. It appeared that
one of the regiments, who had a detachment in Palestine, had suffered
a number of casualties there. When its Sgt Major woke with reveille
in the morning, on getting out of bed and turning to face his colours
through the open window to pay his respects he saw with horror that
the tail of the lion,* which normally swung upwards over the back of
the lion, was now down between its back legs and laying under its
belly. During the night the other regiment had crept out and altered
its position. Dozens of soldiers were carrying black eyes, etc.
No
mean feat to move yards of different coloured rock halfway up a huge
hill during the night.
*The
lion was in fact a dragon with small wings and was the regimental
crest of the Buff Regiment.
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