Driver Evan Davies, son of Mr. and Mrs. Evan Davies, Cynlais View, Ammanford, writes an interesting letter from Egypt, in which he states he is in the best of health, and goes on to say:
“I daresay you have seen in the papers about the fighting that is going on out here. We have had a fair share of it ourselves.
A Taube flew over our camp last week and dropped 30 bombs, doing a little damage; but, fortunately, no soldier was killed. Seven were slightly wounded. Several of the natives in the Camel Corps were killed. Two of them were under my charge.
One of my native boys ran up to my tent when it happened, and said, ‘Efendi, effendi, tala showaii, etnain ragel lilt mortu musskowais Wahed bigue inta,’ which means, ‘Master, master, come quick, two of your men have been hit. They are calling for you.’
I went down when the aeroplane disappeared towards Ismailia, and found that the two had been mortally wounded by the same bomb. I ran for the doctor, but one of them had died before I returned; the other died two hours later. I was sorry to lose them, as they were my best drivers; but such is the fortune of war. One bomb exploded 200 yards from the cookhouse in our camp, but did not do any damage. Two of our planes went up and chased her, but could not catch her.
I have been up in the trenches nearly every night taking up ammunition and R. E. stores, barbed wire, &c. Last Sunday night I and three others went to fetch the camels that were captured from the Turks. Our officer has promised to let me have one camel from the bunch for my own use, as I had fancied it.
Our men have captured over 3,500 Turks, and there are over 700 of them here. My word, they do look a sight. Hardly any boots on their feet, and their clothes were in rags. I spoke to one of them who could understand Arabic. He said that he had marched over a hundred miles just before being captured, and hadn’t had any food for two days. He said he was glad that he was a prisoner.
To change the subject. I must tell you that I have a red and green band on my arm, and that means that I am a Regimental Interpreter. You bet I’m proud of it. My pal also has one, so we’re well away. I have earned it, as I have been studying Arabic every minute I had to spare, and also my pal.
Of course it means extra money in our pockets. Both of us went to the Major one day and told home we wished to wear the R. and G. band. He said, ‘But you do not know Arabic very much, do you?’ We asked to be given a test, so he sent for the Camel Corps officer and told him to test our Arabic.
He tested us, and told Major Francis that we were quite proficient to wear the R. and G. band. He shook us by our hands, and fixed the bands on our left arms himself.
My word, you should have heard our chaps cheering. They shouted, ‘Good old Ammanford Haliin, Machmood, dere ma. Congratulations.’ I expect you are curious to know what we have to do as interpreters.
Any officer or men when they see the R. and G. knew that we can translate and speak Arabic. So should they want to speak to a gypo, they come to one of the R. and G. men, and tell them what they want from the native.
We get 20 p.t extra per week, so you see that your Evans bach has made use of his education after all. What gives us a lot of fun is we take off our bands sometimes just for fun, and go amongst the E. H. C. natives and listen to them talking. Of course, they don’t know that we understand Arabic.
We hear a lot of family secrets. I believe I have told you all I’ve got to say at present, only that the weather is still very warm. The nights are lovely, clear moonlight nearly every night. And as we go out with the camels at night, you bet it’s A1.Four of us have to go out with 120 camels tomorrow night to the trenches.
Here’s a bit of Arabic for you ‘Cwlik ragel umsie gizeh talata youm an badu egitani heni. Ana askari tayeb habouk ‘Rowais eddini warega neharda minfadlk.’”
There may be some mis-spelling of the Arabic words due to the poor quality of the reproduction of the journal. Email me with any corrections.
