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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Roger Marsh of the ‘Action Desk — Sheffield’ Team on behalf of Reg Reid, and has been added to the site with the authors permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

The Lighter Side of War

By
Don Alexander

CHAPTER 18b: Sousse: Couscous then where to next? Italy? Blighty? The Riviera? A Restcamp?

Being someone who could then (and can now) chat and make friends with anyone, whatever their social class, colour, race, politics, creed, disability, sexual orientation, whether they be Wednesdayites or Unitedites, Hittites or Israelites, it was easy for Butch to befriend a rich Arab who had been high up in the French-Tunisian police service. He had come to Sousse from Tunis to see the barracks, now occupied by the British, where he had trained as a lad. Butch showed him round with Wheeler and Petty trailing behind them and got him tea and cakes at Cheesborough's pog.

The rich man invited them to his home for `couscous' - the spicy North African dish of steamed semolina served with stew.

His chauffer collected the three lads in his posh black citroen limousine, and at a dazzling large white house they sat cross-legged on carpets eating couscous, while the Arab men sat with their backs to them. It's a good job that Lieutenant Baker, in a lecture on local customs, had said this was out of politeness. Baker had also said that they should always leave some food for the women and children, who ate after the men. Don't `scoff the lot', in other words. Butch looked round and, sure enough, three women, who covered their faces as he turned, and about nine children were staring at them.

Frej, the lad who worked in the army cookhouse, heard that Butch and two friends had had couscous at the rich man's house. Not to be outdone he invited Butch and three friends, Brotherstone, Powell and Sid Porter to his house for couscous. Sid was another water tank driver and was regarded by the lads as a bit of a mucky beggar. Wheeler unkindly said you could get cholera just by looking at him. The lads called him `Gunga Din' after Kipling's heroic water carrier - not that Sid was a hero. Powell, Welsh and literate, used to quote the line:

`Despite his dirty hide he was white, pure white inside'

Frej laid down an army blanket - bought from you know who - outside his house and the four lads sat down cross legged on this in front of a large bowl of couscous, four dishes and a finger bowl of water. Frej and a couple of his friends stood and watched the British eat. (They weren't as polite as their rich compatriot).

After the meal, knowing the lads' opinion of him, Sid thought he would be clean and hygienic for once, took his false teeth out and swished them about in the finger bowl.
Back at the barracks Butch rounded on him: "Mucky chuff, weshin' thi false teeth in 'finger bowl. Where was you brung up?�

"What's wrong? I thought that's what it was for."
"Frej's a friend of mine. His mates were disgusted. Didn't you see 'em make a quick exit when they saw you do that? No more couscous for us now."

"Arabs have no room to talk: eating with their right hands, left hands put behind them to wipe their arses!"

Butch let him have the last word. He was both incredulous and amused at our Sid.
Next day was Tunisia's revenge, Butch felt fine but the other three lads had severe dysentery!

Sousse - then where to next?

The 8th Army in Sicily met some tough German resistance by the Panzers but at the end of August 1943 they had conquered the island with their allies. General Patton's 2nd US Army reached Messina opposite the toe of mainland Italy on 17th August 1943.

General Alexander was in overall command of the Italian campaign and Montgomery returned to Britain to prepare for the invasion of France under the overall command of US General Eisenhower.

Eisenhower also planned a sea borne invasion of the French Riviera called "Dragoon" and in the meantime there were landings to come at Naples and Anzio in Italy by the troops based in Tunisia.

I must give my father, Fred Alexander in the RAF Regiment, a final little mention. He went from Bizerta to Naples in a tank landing ship following his namesake General Alexander' troops to Caserta, to Punchinello Monastery, to Capua, to Cassino. The only other note I have on an old atlas is that he then went on a tank landing craft in 1944, Tilbury to Ostend.
And what about Butch and Co.?

They could head for Italy, Blighty or the Riviera. In fact they were given in turns 48 hour passes to Monastir Rest Camp, on a headland about 15 miles south of Sousse.

Monastir was then a sleepy walled town, an attractive fishing port, chiefly known for its huge Ribat Coastal Fort. It's a pity the lads only had 48 hours because it was said that spending three days there opened the gates to paradise!

They could visit the salt lake shimmering in the heat, and swim in the blue Mediterranean. Best of all there was absolutely no bull - just one parade each
morning before breakfast at 08:00 hours, then they could eat, see the sights, swim and lounge about.

Back at Sousse the order was given to clean up and vacate the barracks and for the whole company to move to the docks at Tunis. Most of the lorries that Butch had worked on so diligently were driven to a huge army dump to be handed over to the Tunisian authorities to make use of or to hand over to entrepreneurs or scrap dealers. Some lorries were comparatively new when they reached North Africa but were subject to so much wear and tear on the desert roads that they were deemed to have had their day. RAF lorries were not even taken to the dump, but were abandoned by the roadside.
133 Company were booked to sail in October 1943 back to Blighty to prepare for the invasion of Nazi Europe across the English Channel.

Pr-BR

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