CHAPTER 5 - THE FLEAS
“He marched them up to the top of the hill
As far as we were concerned it was just what the doctor ordered and must have been a tonic for the war weary folk back home. It was certainly a morale booster for our battalion. We had fought very hard, beaten the Italians and driven them out of Eritrea. It was our first major victory of the campaign although its significance was greatly played down by the Axis partners. It was a victory nonetheless. It eased the pressure in the Mediterranean and removed a direct threat from one flank of our army in the desert. It also meant we could exert more pressure on the Germans. |
Pte. Joseph Hutt |
The troops in Eritrea were cock a hoop and we really began to hope. Ours was a regular battalion – I had joined them in the Sudan but some had been abroad for quite a few years. There was a very strong rumour that after their performance in Eritrea these men were to be sent back to England for a prolonged leave. True it was only a rumour but our officers did not go out of their way to deny it. Optimism was rife and after spending a few days in Asmara, the capital of Eritrea, we found that we were hailed as conquering heroes by the locals.
Suddenly it was announced that an advance party was to leave the next morning for the docks. I was in that party. The party, twenty-three strong, disembarked at Masara, a port on the Red Sea. It was an uneventful journey although the British sailors did go out of their way to warn us about the conditions at Masara. They reckoned it was the third hottest place on earth and told us to keep our stomachs covered at night since dysentery was rife. We knew we would not be there long since three days was all that was allowed for the expedition. True to form it really was hot there and we were stationed in a large building area next to a factory, which had produced and sold ice blocks. It was simply too hot to work by day and not much was done by night either because try as you might tiredness always crept up on you.
At first we bribed the local natives into selling us some water but soon stopped the practice when we all became ill with severe stomach pains. The rest of the battalion joined us after seven days and they too found that it was no picnic. Their resentment was tempered by the fact that they were sure they were going home soon. We were told we had to wait for a ship, which was bringing in Italian prisoners of war captured in the western desert. The ship had been delayed by German air strikes. Three days after the arrival of the rest of the battalion the ship arrived and we had our first glimpse of the POWs. There were five hundred and ninety seven of them and they looked a motley crew. There were originally six hundred but three had died en route. The ship was a captured Italian vessel and the British soldiers told us that the Italians had complained continuously about the overcrowding. Their officer promised to complain to the Red Cross. The irony was that our battalion of eight hundred and seven, plus equipment, were all jammed onto that same vessel as soon as the prisoners disembarked. There were no complaints, after all most were Blighty bound – or so they thought!
I was very lucky on that trip for I was attached to the “ack – ack” who, of course, had to be stationed on the top deck. How I felt for my comrades jammed in the hold. Most of our time was spent discussing our course. Would we go through the Suez Canal, then through the Mediterranean before the final stretch back to dear old England? Fortunately the “ack – ack” was not called upon and we duly docked at Port Tewfik. Here there was great activity. Our rifles were all collected and placed in vats of oil then returned to us to be thoroughly cleaned ready for action. The MJ section was then taken to a car park and we were allocated a truck, which we had to give a thorough check. It was at this point that we were told the bad news. The Germans had taken over in the western desert and were busy asserting their authority. Four days later we were face to face with them in our trenches dug in the sands of the desert. Bye Bye Blighty!
There were several skirmishes with the enemy during the next two weeks. This was very different from Eritrea. We were outnumbered for a start and the Germans were modernised with superior arms. We also encountered the devastating attacks of the Luftwaffe and were forced to retreat. There then followed a period of stalemate and it during this time that I received a very pleasant surprise. Thirty-five troops were to be sent on leave and I could hardly believe it when I learnt that my vehicle had been chosen for the transport and I was to be the driver.
After a long journey across the desert we were stopped by an MP. He studied our papers.
“Bad luck chaps” he said suddenly. “Thought you were going on leave eh?” What on earth was he talking about?
He then told us to report to Geneifa, a transit camp on the banks of the Suez Canal. Orders is orders as they say. We changed direction and duly arrived at Geneifa. Here again the murmurs about leave were received with sympathy.
Geneifa was really just a stretch of desert. On arrival we were paraded in front of an officer and inspected. My truck was taken away and then we were taken to our quarters. These consisted of a stretch of sand marked at each corner with a rock. A corporal arrived and took our names, number, rank and regiment. We just sat there staring in amazement. Was this leave? We took stock of our surroundings. It was really a typical desert scene but with two prominent features. Some way in the distance we could see two peaks each looking like an inverted ice cream cone, one smaller than the other. Two of the lads “next door” saw us looking and shouted over.
“They are the “fleas” and you’ll come to hate the sight of them before you finish.”
What did they mean? We were to find out soon enough but that night everyone had to be in bed when lights out was sounded.
Next morning we were awakened by the strident sound of a bugle sounding reveille. Here we were anticipating a lie in. Then the corporal appeared and ordered us outside for PT.
“But we are on leave” said our own corporal.
“So am I” was the reply. “But there are no exceptions”
We did half an hours strenuous PT and cooled off by dipping a sponge into a communal bath and sponging ourselves down. Afterwards we were ordered to clean up our “barrack” room such as it was. We made up our beds, put our kit in ship shape and awaited the call to breakfast. Corporal Palmer decided to wait until late to take us for our meal and when the time came we began to stroll down to the cookhouse. Suddenly a voice began bellowing out. We did not realise immediately that it was directed at us.
“Don’t you read orders?” bellowed this corporal. “Other ranks will be MARCHED to the cookhouse and will be properly dressed at all times.”
So, under his supervision, we were marched into the cookhouse. If we took umbrage at this worse was to follow. When we reached the cookhouse an orderly was watching the men clean off the tables. He asked what we wanted and told him we had come for breakfast. He really blew his top at this. “At this hour” he snorted.
He then told us breakfast had finished seven minutes earlier, all the while looking pointedly at his watch. He told us it was a pity to waste our journey and while we were there we could help to clean up. What a way to start your first day on leave. We were later informed that we had a full days training ahead of us, which turned out to be two. It was now that we found out what the “fleas” were for. The boys in the next bay told us that you that you were expected to climb to the top and down the other side in a given time, one day the little flea, the next day the big flea. At first this did not overawe us. After all we had just been in the desert fighting had we not.
We duly paraded FSMO for our assault on the little flea. This meant carrying all our kit and believe you me it hangs pretty heavy. Try picking up a Lee Enfield rifle some time and you will get some idea. We then marched to the foot of the little flea but in the desert distances can be deceptive and it took us an hour to get there. We were given a ten-minute respite during which a corporal moved among us and checked our kit. The little flea did not look that formidable at first but again appearances can be very deceptive. The side we were ordered to climb was exposed to the desert wind that deposited sand on the steps sometimes up to a foot deep. You could climb up three steps and slip back two. If you were really unlucky you could slip back even further. You were really shattered when you reached the top and reported to the officer sitting there. He handed you a sealed envelope, which you had to hand to the officer at the base. However, the way down was no picnic either. There was no sand but the bare rock was exposed and had many jagged edges. You had to pick your way very carefully because one slip could result in serious cuts. I remember wondering if it was any easier going down than it had been going up. On reaching the base you handed the envelope to the officer who checked it and if anyone had tried to cheat they were made to do the exercise again.
When the exercise was over we were made to parade and marched back to the camp and after a foot inspection we were given a meal. We slept well that night.
Forewarned is forearmed they say and this was fully confirmed the next day. This time we tackled the big flea and although the procedure was similar to the previous day the big flea was so much bigger. The exercise took a good twenty minutes longer but we were not nearly as fatigued as the day before. We were pleasantly surprised to learn that evening that we were going to the pictures and we were all ready in good time.
The theatre was an open air one inside the camp itself. It consisted of a marked square surrounded by canvas sheets suspended on two poles. At the front was a large white sheet. There were two rows of seats at the back with the rest of the people there simply sitting on the sand. The films shown were extremely old and the equipment continually breaking down. It even set on fire at one stage. The films would be shown out of sequence so that sometimes we saw the end of the film before the middle. People walked out on a regular basis and those that had actually paid rarely went back. We could buy a sort of sickly sweet nougat and salted peanuts. Outside bottles of water could be purchased and we really needed it after the heavily salted nuts. The owner turned out to be an Egyptian! During the daytime the “theatre” was used as a lecture room.
After the film show had ended it was usual to usher in troops to see films of new weapons and training methods. When all this was over the place became the officer’s mess. It seems the place was used twenty-four hours and the owner suitably compensated. He must have ended up a wealthy man. I can remember that the film we saw was incredibly boring and I was one of those who left early.
The next day we were pleased to learn that we were being taken to Port Tewfik for a day out. We would be exempt from all parades. We were really looking forward to the smell of the sea, seeing people other than troops and actually ordering our own food. We might even be able to pick up some souvenirs. Next morning I was shaken awake very early and taken to my truck, which I was assured, had been fully serviced and equipped. I was then taken to a small tent where I was given a map and my orders. It appears that the Germans were advancing very quickly in the desert and was necessary to rush reinforcements up there as fast as possible. I pointed out to the officer that to cover the distance would mean driving non stop for over thirty hours. He actually agreed but insisted that it had to be done. Then my mates paraded FSMO and mounted the vehicle. There was no time for delay, no time to think, we were on our way. Barely two days later, on what should have been our last day of our leave were we back in action. Some leave this had been.
We became convinced that our treatment was part of a plan to make leave undesirable and being in action not too bad after all. If this were the case I can vouch that it was successful.
Nowadays you will hear people say that the talk of fleas makes their skin itch. It does me but it also makes my blood run cold. I survived but was not too pleased to find that my army record showed that I had been on FULL leave in Egypt!!!
Note: Readers may well recall the film “The Hill” starring Sean Connery. Not so far fetched you may think.