LIFE AT TEK – 26,000 MEN – 100 ATS!
As Remembered By Doris Goss
We were aboard HMS Dunottar Castle in the Mediterranean sunshine, wondering where in the world our overseas postings would take us. On the quayside, men wearing fezzes and long white robes. The black gliding parcels with eyes? Those were the women. Ha, must be in Egypt!
A long hot train ride through the desert passed like a dream. Men rode donkeys. Women carried water jugs on their heads. We stopped at a station where a swarm of vendors offered fruit and genuine antiques. Whilst we looked out at the platform, another swarm climbed up from the tracks the other side, and removed what they could of our possessions – this was going to be different!
Tel-el-Kebir Garrison was a vast complex of camps; wooden huts and tents housed 26,000 British soldiers and 100 ATS. The nearest town was Ismailia, 30 miles away along the Sweet Water Canal. Anyone falling into its sweet waters would receive two dozen extra inoculations.
We were housed in a desert camp, 4 to a tent. My companions were Jean Imrie from Stirling, Jessie Riach from Elgin and Poppy Laurie from Edinburgh, so I became used to being addressed as “quine” or “hen”. In the evenings mice ran happily around the tent walls and a spider we called Horace would dance on the sandy floor. Later we discovered he was probably a poisonous tarantula. As for toilet arrangements – a huge pit many metres deep and many metres wide, was adorned at intervals with wooden seats, all covered at night with large cockroaches. As we all suffered from Gippy Tummy, a nocturnal visit was a daunting prospect. But the stars outside were beautiful.
At work at Garrison HQ, I was suddenly promoted and put in charge of a typing pool. My 2 i/c was a keen little Anglo-Indian, Cpl Herbert Fernandez from Bombay. The other typists were L/Cpl Lise Giraudeau and her friend Milly, both of Mauritius Coy ATS; a young Egyptian civilian and two German prisoners, Klaus and Erich (these two were naturally not very keen on helping the British war effort). On the way back to ATS camp, the gentle old German driver would tell me all about his grandchildren before wishing me “Guten Appetit”. Being just a handful of British girls attached to the Palestine (Jewish) Company ATS, the meetings were held in Hebrew. We answered ‘ken’ (yes) as our names were called, and then just listened in puzzlement to the rest of the proceedings, never actually knowing what had been discussed.
One evening, a concert party of German prisoners, all looking like Danny La Rue, put on an excellent musical comedy to entertain the British troops. Their happiness at putting on the show was infectious, and I can still remember the rousing final chorus.
Given the ratio of 260 British soldiers to 1 ATS girl, we had a hectic social life. There were dances in one or other of the camps nearby every night, and the “Excuse Me” dances were murder!
I also remember finding an Egyptian servant in our Mess strutting about wearing a sweater my mother had knitted for me. And the young Egyptian cooks telling the British girls to wait at the back of the queue, then loading us down with oranges etc. that they didn’t want the Jewish girls to have!