Sick report y’day
Taranaki Coy 2 men
Hawkes Bay 1/2 Coy 1 man
Ruahine Coy 3 men
I am delighted – 3 out of the six were “sick” from bruises (accidental). What I call “soldier’s sickness”.
November 29th Sunday
...We got important news yesterday afternoon. We shall probably land at Suez to fight the Turks. It is a surprise to us. We had quite made up our minds that we should disembark in England. However it is all in our job, and Suez will be a much better place to winter in. Especially for our horses. If it is decided to disembark there we shall begin to land next Tuesday. The General on the Maunganui has gone ahead. We are making all arrangements to land and are not really sorry to be about to get off the ship. We have no doubt that in due time we will go to France and then on thro’ Germany. We want to see and be in the big fighting.
My marching order parade yesterday morning was a success. It was an act of fortitude. 88°F[31°C] in the shade. The men have improved! Their steadiness, general turn out and arms etc were up to a good standard. They stood like rocks the perspiration running down their faces in streams. It took me an hour and a quarter and wasn’t I wet when I finished. I am proud of my men. Full marching order, in the hottest part of the Red Sea, Home, as medico, was inclined to doubt the wisdom of it. I persisted however and no one was really the worse physically and all were the better morally....
Church parade this morning, some 6 of the German prisoners off the Emden are Catholics and paraded with us. The 2nd inoculation starts today. I got my identity disc today, a piece of white thin metal round and about the size of a halfcrown, stamped.
Malone’s drawing of his identity disc.
Alexander Turnbull Library
10/3983 is my number. R.C. means Roman Catholic. W.I. Regt Wellington Infantry Regiment. There is a small hole at the top, thro which is threaded a string by which the disc is suspended round ones neck. It is to be worn at all times, for, in case of need, identification purposes. I wonder whether Mater has got the former parts of the diary and whether it interests her much. It is not very exciting, but that cannot be helped. Let us hope there will be things more interesting and exciting to record. Later on I [will] find it somewhat of a resource, but it is getting I am afraid somewhat long winded. The short days are at hand. It is dark when we get up now. The men are just singing “God save the King” I stand up and think.
One of Malone’s men was rather more direct about the need for identity disks, writing in his diary that they were required in cases ‘where the effects of a shell leave the body otherwise unrecognisable.’ [Oswald Meenken diary, 27 Nov 1914, Menken family.]
[MSX 2549]
In the Red Sea
About 500 miles south of Suez
Sunday 29 November 1914
My dearest one,
I wrote you at Aden a “censored” letter which is naturally a cool sort of public production. I had hoped to have been able to send you a little love letter, but it could not be. I must write you one now.
I miss you so much every day. While I am at work it is right enough but when I have finished and there is the long evening to go and it is too hot and too dark to work, I sit and think of you and all our best past, of the time when you met me at Lyttelton, our journey to Christchurch, my stay at Burkes at Papanui,84 the day of our marriage, and ever since then the returning home to your bonny sweet self and later to the dear children, our little holidays together, our walks, our journeys and the delight when you put your arm in mine and leant on me as your true support in life. When I was away, the receipt of your longed for letters, the joy of arriving home and the disappointment if you were not about immediately on my arrival or if you appeared to casually receive me. You sometimes didn’t like my apparent retirement to myself, but I loved you always. A man is often filled with business troubles and difficulties and must be affected, [?] some times he is tired and his nerves all of a jangle. I was often so I am sorry to think, but I was never content until I got home to you, and if I then remained in a cover of seeming selfishness, it was only a cover. You should know my dearest that you have been my only love. I have always loved you more than you did me. I loved you before and above everything and everybody, including the dear children. Whereas you know since the coming of our children that your love is divided and I think the children have the bigger half, that I believe on reflection to be only right and natural. I have I know at times seemed to resent it, but I know in my heart of hearts that the fact is one which endears you to me all the more. The maternal woman is the only true woman. God so made her. My resentment such as it was, was jealousy, an evil thing, a very evil thing out of it arose what little storms there have been in our wedded life. It was a great joy to me when you in time overcame it. You had no cause you know. On my part there never was any question, but as regarded our children, I am afraid that this appears somewhat like “the woman’s always in the wrong”. If so, forgive me. I am not acquitting myself of error. I might have been much nicer and better to you often and often and in many ways but I am as God made me, hard and unforgiving or rather resentful. Believe me when I was hardest I really loved the most and was miserable at heart. I won’t write any more of this or think of it, only all the many many joys of our married life.
I had to leave off writing here. This is the longest parting of our lives, hard to both of us but especially so for you. Yet you have the children with you and I hope the novelty and pleasure of plenty of new friends in a new scene. Still I think when you have put the children to bed, you will sit and think about your husband, so far away on his new mission. When I wake in the morning I think of how it is evening with you and I try to picture you to myself, hearing Molly and the boys pray for their Daddy and his safe return. I pray too that God may keep you strong, well and happy and safe to welcome me on my return or to join me at this end of the world when the war is over. I look forward so much to that joyful day. We are probably going to land in Egypt and be there for some months. I think of your desire to see Egypt and do so wish that you could come and be near me. But I should not be able to see much of you and we expect to be fighting the Turks.85 We are on the whole pleased at the idea of wintering in a good climate. It seems quite luxurious, but yet no doubt and I hope that there will be hardship.
...I hope that you have got my letters from Hobart, Albany and Colombo and that you are getting that photo of your dear self taken. I like the one I have very much, but I had had to paste a slip of paper over myself so as to have you by yourself. When I can get a moment I am going to cut you out and so fix up. I am sending you my diary leaves up to date which will give you my news and what not.... I wonder sometimes whether you feel tempted to take ship and come to me. How I envy Colonel Johnston having his wife with him. Not envy him his wife for she is nothing like my own dear girl. But it would be so lovely to sit on deck together, after dinner, in the dusk and cool and to have you about through the day. He doesn’t seem to appreciate the position. They are very prosaic and matter of fact. She might be his sister. I was going to say mother, for she is very old in her ways. We all like her for she minds absolutely her own business and is in no way in the way. Holly is not a dear loving little soul like Molly and is allowed to eat ham and omelettes by the plateful. She sits opposite to me at breakfast and gets a bit on my nerves over her food. Dear Molly. If only we could swap Mrs Johnston and Holly for you and Molly it would be lovely. Give her a good hug and kissing for me and let her give you the same for me. I am afraid I should crush you up. I feel so strong with my physical drill and no business all day sittings. I only hope that you feel as well as I do. I am one of the fittest men on the ship. No fat now. My separation from you is my only trouble. I do so hope that you are managing all right without me. I feel that you are, but a woman by herself is without the support she needs. Still I know you love me and will on that account get along with independence and honour to yourself. Keep yourself well and strong for my sake and look fo
rward always as I do night and morning to our reunion, never more let us hope in this world to part. The dear children too I have notwithstanding all my love for you, their father’s love for them. Don’t spoil them dear. I know you won’t let them forget me. I hope they got or will get the elephants I sent them from Colombo.... With all my love and the memory of the kiss that was the sweetest to you of all those I have given you.
Your loving husband
Give each of the children a good kiss from me. Give my love to Norah and Mot....
[MSX 2542]
November 30th 1914
...We are all feeling very much refreshed. No work today. Everybody tender after the 2nd inoculation. Some of the men who refused inoculation are now asking to be done. I am not inclined to allow them to be done. They are obviously either “wicked” or mentally deficient in some way and would probably almost certainly be a trouble by and by. Better I think get rid of them now, if I can. We went to a great deal of trouble to get them to consent, but they refused. Their surrender now is I think too late. They look in the main a bad erratic lot and we would be well quit of them. I spent of couple of hours last night playing Schumann. The salon was nice and cool. I quite enjoyed myself. His “Arabesque” which Granny used to play so often, from memory, was particularly attractive to me and awakened many memories of long, long ago. Granny used to play it perfectly. I am wondering about our letters from NZ. I do so want to hear from Mater.... The sooner the better. 45 days since we left Wellington.
...We hear now that we are to hand over our German prisoners to HMS Hampshire and that we are to go thro’ the Canal and not disembark at Suez. Still obviously we are not going to England at present or we would not transfer our Germans. We shall know in a few days now.
We are. I did up my mail home, this afternoon, hoping to get it away by the censor Capt Shawe86 without delay.
December 2nd 1914
...We transferred our German prisoners to HMS Hampshire. They were an inoffensive lot. Still we are not sorry to get rid of them....
2
‘In the cause of the age’
* * *
On active service, Egypt,
December 1914 to April 1915
* * *
[MSX 2542]
December 3rd 1914
Arrived at Alexandria at day break [sic]. Steamed into the harbour under a shore pilot, a big ruffian in awfully baggy breeches, a long fine cloth overcoat and a fez. I went up on the bridge and took several photos of the harbour. It was full of sea-craft, big steamers, little one[s], ships, barques, brigs, schooners. Every imaginable sort of sailer. A great number of the big steamers are German prizes of war. Some 22 or so in number. We went alongside a quay, the Mah momdieh and tied up. Nobody seemed to know when we were to disembark, and nobody seemed to have troubled. None of us were allowed ashore. We completed getting ready.... The weather is surly and raining.
In his diary entry for 3 December, Private Oswald Meenken reports that large groups of men from the Wellington Battalion, who ‘considered they were entitled to leave’ rushed the picket on guard at the gangplank of the Arawa. This incident is noted by other members of the battalion and it is odd WGM makes no reference to it in his diary or letters. Perhaps he was too embarrassed to refer to this indiscipline in a diary he was sending to his wife.
[Oswald Meenken diary, 3 Dec 1914; George Bollinger diary, 3-4 Dec 1914; MS-Papers – 2350, ATL.]
December 4th 1914
One of Malone’s companies left for Zeitoun on the outskirts of Cairo. Malone and Captain Cox went later for a walk through Alexandria. Malone wrote in his diary that:
It was most interesting but ugh! the filth and smells of the Arab streets and the dirt of the Arabs. There is a French-European part of the town, but the Arab town lies between it and the docks. Everything is like the pictures but one doesn’t see the dirt and get the Malodorousness in the pictures. The Arab town is full of drinking places, seemingly every other shop or buildings is a place where the natives sit drinking, smoking, playing dominoes. Very few women about. Mostly veiled. Some apparently loose ones – unveiled a pity for they are the reverse of attractive or beautiful, and make the streets additionally objectionable.
[MSX 2549]
Alexandria
4 December 1914
My dear wife,
We arrived here yesterday morning and are busy disembarking and entraining for Zeitoun, four miles from Cairo. Some of the men go this afternoon and the rest will follow tomorrow or the next day. The Maunganui is going back to New Zealand and I have the chance to send this. You will wonder when you get it with New Zealand postmark. This is a big place, 320,000 population mostly natives, very dirty and smelly. I got a letter from Charlie Westerton1 at Port Said. It was addressed to me, GPO London. He had heard that I was coming and seeing that some New Zealanders were in London, he thought I had arrived. The letter was sent on by our New Zealand Record Office. I am glad to find this because now I know that your letters will be sent here without delay. The landing arrangements here are not good, apparently no proper organisation. Everybody set up [?] on their own. We’ll muddle through somehow though. This morning we route marched the men who had no work to do on board the Transport through the town to let them see the sights. No leave was given, this is a dangerous place to turn a lot of men loose as the drink is poisonous, and after total abstinence for seven weeks would have bowled them over at sight. I and Captain Cox, my acting adjutant, took a walk round, and were interested in the street life. How I wish you were here, going up to Cairo, which you have always longed to see. It is quite cool and there was rain last night and this morning. There is talk of England annexing Egypt. The Khedive has cleared out to Constantinople. 22 German ships[’] captives, are lying here. The harbour is full of all sorts of shipping, lots of small barques, schooners, brigs, etc. It is a long time since I have seen so many sailing craft.
I send some more of my diary with all my love to you and the children.
Your loving husband.
[MSX 2542]
December 6th 1914
We go to Zeitoun today, all except a small party who have to stop and look after our waggons. Our horses got away yesterday. Just fancy, my Battalion and its transport, were spread over 4 ships! We could easily all have gone on the Arawa...
[MSX 2543]
...The journey was very interesting thro’ level land, irrigated by the Nile, covered with green crops, Arab mud villages, more pretentious towns a mixture of European and Arabian. Water canals and channels, water wheels, turned by donkeys or bullocks, paths and tracks along side the canals. No fences. Lots of natives working in the fields and travelling camels, donkeys, bullocks. Goats and hairy sheep. Date palm groves, the great bunches of fruit covered with bags to I suppose keep the birds away. Flocks of kites as big as fowls. The scavengers of the country. We ... got to Cairo at about 5:30pm after a long wait we were ... finally dumped out at a place called Esbet-El-Zeitoun. Piles of forage, stores, material, etc and lots of soldiers everywhere. The railway transport officer said he would send waggons along to cart our baggage – so away we went in the dark to our camping ground in the desert – a good road for a mile[1.6 kilometres] – we found our West Coast and Ruahine Coys camp with tents pitched for themselves but our tents were at the Siding. We got a mug of cocoa and a small loaf of bread with a piece of Dutch cheese for our tea. We had a haversack ration on the train. For the night we bivouacked in the desert. It was hard but our fellows slept all right. We went back to the Siding and got our baggage...
December 7th 1914
Day light showed us a dreary waste on the edge of Zeitoun township ... We found a very cold mist enveloping everything rain and damp most uncheerful – we got breakfast and then to work. By 10am the sun came out bright and hot. We soon pitched camp. We took in more desert than allotted to us. I saw the Brigadier and also Genl Godley and they gave us carte blanche. So I laid off a spacious Camp next to the Otago Regiment. It is A1.
The me
n have put a small one stone high wall all round on the boundaries of roads and round each tent or else a sand wall.
The Govt is putting up the Dining Huts and cookhouses, which is more than we expected. The Imperial Chief of Engineers here Col Wright, whom I saw, insists that such huts, etc, are necessities and must be put up and he is boss. More power to him say me. We do not ourselves however consider that they are necessities. A bit of a cook shelter for each Coy is all that we thought of.
December 8th 1914
A cold night past very cold raw wet morning. We begin work and are settled down, much to the astonishment of the English Major in charge of the Egyptian Sappers along side of us. He thinks we are a wonderful people to so soon go to work. He is used to Egypt where “Tomorrow”, for work comes very slowly. The stores, etc, of the force are being carted from the railway store to our depot by long strings of native carts – drawn by small horses or mules. Camels too carry loads. An everlasting long drawn out “Gee–e–e–e– ar” resounds night and day. It is the Arab drivers “Get up”.
December 9th 1914
Foggy cold morning – busy squaring up camp and at work, hot day, cold night. We went some 4 or 5 miles[6.4 or 8 kilometres] across or rather into the desert for our days work. The sand is taking all the spring out of marching still in places the ground is fairly hard and covered with small stones and pebbles.
Some of Malone’s men did not appreciate the extra work involved in ‘squaring up’ the camp. Arthur Swayne wrote in his diary: ‘Granny Malone’s order to beautify camp by placing stones around each tent ... made it look like a lot of children’s playhouses his ears must have been tingling with pride there was some smart speeches made about him.’ Swayne’s reference to ‘Granny Malone’ is unusual. He was most commonly referred to by his men as ‘the Colonel’, or ‘our Colonel’, but he was also affectionately referred to by others as the ‘Old Man’, ‘our Molly’ or ‘Mollie Malone’. [A.J. Swayne diary, 9 Dec 1914, 1992-50, KMARL; Harston to IKM, 13 Aug 1913, MFCL; ‘A Soldiers Book of Life’ by Aubrey Tronson, pp.1-2, MS-Papers – 2393, ATL; Evening Post, 13 Nov 1915, p.13.]
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