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A short excerpt from the Wartime diary of Lieutenant Alfred Frederick Peterson of 103rd Oxfordshire Rgt RA On Armistice Day 1943 he was on the MV Staffordshire about to embark at Alexandria in N Africa en route to a ‘tent city’ had been set up in the desert to house troops waiting to be sent to various theatres of war

Thursday Nov 11th 1943 - Armistice Day. I believe there was no sort of celebration this year. Probably a good thing. We should keep peace celebrations for when there is peace in the land. Once again it is a lovely sunny day and, coupled with sunbathing, is the thought that today we should see Alexandria. About 12 o'clock a tower was sighted. This was the first sign of civilisation we have seen since passing the desert. We should reach Alexandria at about 4 o'clock. Just after lunch we saw the white buildings of a town straight ahead - it was Alex! We could dimly make out tall skyscrapers against the horizon. By this time all the rails were crowded. The destroyers picked up speed and shot off toward the port as though devil were at their heels. A cruiser passed us too. Looks of surprise at seeing this member of HM forces, were evident on all the faces - we never realised that our escort amounted to that!

Down to tea and by the time we went on deck again, Alex was very near. Would there be shore leave that evening? This was the topic of all conversation but the ship stopped quite a distance outside the port, just by a half sunken oil tanker (a pleasant reminder that war had come to this part of the world). A very tiny steam ? pinnance came puffing out to us from the shore. It contained the pilot who was to guide us into the harbour (our hopes rose again!). Off we went again and into the harbour proper this time. To describe this harbour would take a million pages, but there were more ships than I have seen together for a long time. The hook (anchor) went down whilst we were in midstream and we were in Alexandria. Docked close by three hospital ships and many thoughts must have been
'I don't want to have to (sail) back on one of those.

From the moment of docking, a million things seem to happen at once. The gangway was lowered and all sorts of people began to arrive. Just a Naval somebody or other!

A point worth remembering here- while the matelots were waiting for the Naval wallah to finish his business, they sent one of their number to the troop deck and gave them a bundle of newspapers. This was a lovely gesture as the Army had not seen a newspaper for three weeks. After the Navy, the Port Medical Officer came aboard to see if the ship was free from any infectious diseases, and then the police.

Meanwhile pandemonium was reigning in the lounge. Draft commanders were hurriedly summoned-the officer in charge of the armoury, the officer i/c baggage. People were dashing all over the place and rumour once again was rife! Jonah was bemoaning his fate of being blackout officer on the morrow, as he was sure that we would be allowed ashore. In dribs and drabs, from various sources, came the news that we were leaving the ship on the morning of the 12th. Kit had to be hurriedly packed and our revolvers drawn from the armoury. Our harness webbing had to be strung together once more. In our tiny cabin, Ranford and I were trying to sort our kit out. It seemed to have magnified a thousandfold and yet we have not added a single thing. Still it all packed in at last and we were ready. Revielle is at 0530 hrs so an early retiring was indicated. Just before I turned in, Jonah and I leaned over the rails gazing at the dockside. It was all lit up - no attempt made at blacking out - and with the muddy water and all those ships, it could easily have been London or Liverpool, yet it was a few thousand miles from there. Incidentally any attempt to blackout the ships was frustrated by men flinging wide their portholes, the officers opening windows and everybody smoking on deck! So to bed. Good night. God Bless.

Friday Nov 12th

Up early, down to breakfast with the immediate prospect of shoving off soon. A small tug tied itself up alongside and gently, as though it were a nurse guiding a small child through the park, brought us to the quayside with a train almost alongside the ship. Talking in the lounge to an officer who had come aboard, (I) found all the other officers had gone off, so we were very nearly left aboard. Hurriedly collecting our smalls, we shot off down the gangway and set foot on Egyptian soil. It was really some cobblestones and could just as easily have been Manchester or Bolton. On to the train, a lovely first class carriage, six to a compartment (the others were in second class) and off with the straps of torture! We watched the Egyptian labourers unloading our kit.

The way they were dressed is worth describing. First they were horribly filthy, bare footed and clothes in rags, funny little skull caps and continual scratch. They were so skinny that they didn't seem strong enough to lift a matchbox without aid, but the way they grabbed the big suitcases and ran with them to the train was amazing. Their dress again - in most cases - a sort of long skirt reaching to the ankles and sewn together at the bottom- like a long pair of trousers. It looked remarkably funny.

We started off about 1130hrs to ?. One day I will get a map and take you - on paper - through the journey. Our money (such as it was) had been taken away from us in exchange for piastres (Egyptian currency). A piastri is worth about tuppence ha'penny. There are nearly one hundred to the pound. Unfortunately although we had had our English money removed, the piastres were not available for issue yet. What we saw of Alex was precious little, but I do remember a stone railway arch with trains running over it - trains crowded so full that the natives were hanging on by the front girders, by the roof and probably underneath too!! We stopped at various stations and out came the vendors in their hundreds. First they tried to sell boiled eggs and bread, then oranges (pronounced 'o-ran-ghis'), bananas, tangerines, peanuts. All the things one had not seen or tasted for three long years, but we had no money! Shame wasn't it? At Tanta, I hit on the idea of trading cigarettes for various things. We had some packets of South African cigarettes we had bought on board ship at 50 for a shilling (they were pretty horrible cigs). I offered a vendor three cigarettes for an orange and he took it, so for cigarettes we got bananas, oranges, tangerines and nuts. We didn't fancy the boiled eggs, they looked pretty bad! Meanwhile we were given some bully beef and bread. At seven o' clock at Cassinien we stopped for a hot meal - well it was called hot but it was cold! Greasy bacon, two slices of bread and some lukewarm tea. Another three hours in the train and we arrived at our destination. We were somewhere near Suez. On to a lorry and we were set down among a colossal number of tents. On miles and miles of desert, there were tents, tents to the right of us...etc etc. The dining room was little reed covered hut we at home would not have put our cats and dogs in. ( ) they provided us with a replica of the previous meal - this time though the tea was hot. Had to wait a while for our kit. When it eventually came - at two o'clock in the morning - we just pulled out our beds and slept!

Saturday 13th

Waking up very tired, mouth full of the Eastern desert, and very cold. Hurried hunt for water and a wash down. Again breakfast (was) the inevitable greasy bacon, bread and tea. A visit to the lavatory made me wish I had never come. The stench was amazing, but it was only the disinfectant that smelled so horrible. That was to discourage the flies, but it discouraged most of us too! We never seem to lose this smell - it's with us wherever we go. It began to get so hot that a change of clothing was indicated, so shorts and open necked shirts were donned.

Jonah, Jock and I, seeing no reason for staying in camp, decided to find civilization. Rumour had it that there was an Officers Club in the vicinity. To digress a moment and tell you where we are. We are in the desert on the south side of the Suez Canal between Suez and Port Tewfik. We are in Transit camp No 157 while we wait for a ship to take us to destination 'G'. There is a range of mountains just over the way. This morning, Jonah said we'd walk over and climb them. Just now we decided we might, but were told they were actually forty miles away. This desert is very deceptive in the matter of distance, the air being so clear. We seemed to have made great friends with the flies. They swarm about everywhere. We discovered the Officers Club and there were lovely easy chairs, cool drinks and Nubian servants. Very tasty, very sweet. Came back to discover lunch was two oranges and bread and butter and the inevitable tea. Sunbathed in the afternoon to get these white knees some kind of tan. Went to the Officers Club for tea. At least it was civilised there. Decided to go to the local cinema in the evening!! Can you imagine a very large barn holding about two thousand troops, sand on the floor and a gramophone playing about two records continually. One was 'Dinah' and the other was 'Scatterbrain'. They nearly drove us mad by the time the film started. The film was horribly scratched and at the bottom was the French interpretation of what the commentator was saying. 'Curtain Call' was the name of the picture and it was cut so much that one could not follow the story properly. It was said that once a film was cut so badly that the troops nearly wrecked the place. It is run by an Egyptian who has 150 other such barns that they are pleased to call 'cinemas'. We paid 7 piastres (about 2/6). It was cold as we came out, so an extra blanket was got from the valise and so to bed. There is a lovely ring round the moon tonight. Does it mean rain? Their rainy season is only one day a year and that was five weeks ago. How long we are to stay here, we don't know. It is probably our halfway stop before proceeding to India. As you can see all our thoughts are now dominated by India. Good night & God Bless

Sunday Nov 14th 1943

A very impressive church parade was held in the desert. A square of officers and men, about ten thousand strong, all singing 'Abide with me'. It sounded very solemn and expressed our feelings. I still can't get it out of my head hat you're not just around the corner. Maybe one day it will come home to me that you are very far away. Every morning we have parade. One morning we will be told we are moving, but no word this morning, so after the service, we sat in the sun and ? jawed.

Sleep in the afternoon in the sun. This tanning process must be very slow for any rushing in to it will result in large blisters and sleepless nights. Had tea -the inevitable dishwater- and after washing our utensils in sand (remarkable how bright they become), we decided on a stroll. Orders state that after1800 hours, long trousers and long sleeves must be worn, so had to change. My light desert trousers have too long legs. Being made the way I am, I have a long body and short legs! Finished up again at the only place to go - the Officers Club. One of the chaps had a camera and took a snap of Jock, Jonah and myself. The only trouble is that until we arrive at our final 'G' we cannot have it developed, but when I get it, I'll post it home on the spot. Had a sing-song round the piano- all the old songs that will never die -'Nellie Dean', Lily of Laguna', Rose of Tralee', 'Danny Boy' and 'Mother McCree'. The Irish wanted all Irish songs, the Scots all Scotch ones, but the English any. Realised tonight that the whole of the UK is represented in our tent - Jock, Scotch - Jonah, Welsh - Jackson, Irish and myself, English. Probably a good sign this! One thing, there being no candles and illumination of any kind I have to write this with the sand blowing down my neck and my lovely friends, the flies, hanging on my face. All our things have to be locked up and guarded owing to the Arabs being such expert thieves. We have to carry our revolvers about always, but they begin to weigh heavily after a while, so we have locked them in our suitcases. My eyes seem to catching it- the sand must be having some bad effect on them-they are bloodshot. It must be the irritant sand.

Tues 16th Nov 1943 - (Did laundry today) then we just sunbathed and swapped yarns with the other chaps of the convoy. It appears that they have the gen on the air raid we had on Nov 5th-6th. Evidently on their ship, the skipper told them all the news. Three transports had been hit-the destroyer USA sunk and one troopship went down. When the alarm sounded on their ship, they were playing 'Housey-Housey' on deck. Upset at the thought of the game being spoiled, they slowly obeyed the order of a the ships policeman - an RAF corporal - to go below. Just as the last soldier begrudgingly went below, the enemy plane came in low, machine gunning the decks. Result was that the RAF corporal got a packet in the back and died before help could be brought to him. They buried him at sea. If only the soldiers had moved quicker in obeying the alarm that corporal would still be alive. Seems funny the places God picks for us to die in. We all imagine that if we have to die, a battlefield is a fitting place to do so, but only a small percentage do actually do so. More lives are lost through the senseless things in life. 'Per ardua ad astra' - 'through hardship to the stars' - that corporal certainly went the hard way, giving up his young life (he was barely twenty) for a crowd of grumbling soldiers.

Now dark - can hardly see. God bless you darling.

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