23.09.1943
Up early, what I might have considered at one time to be an unearthly hour. At 3:45 a.m., we went in for breakfast – but my appetite was not at its best at this early hour.
Climbing into the aircraft, I knew that I had stepped off English soil. We flew into a peaceful English autumnal sky – very little cloud in the sky. Cornwall soon became a mere thin line on the horizon – ahead of us nothing but sea and sky. Very soon England sank into the sea and a vast expanse of water stretched to the sky in all directions. As we flew south, the clouds increased until we were finally faced with high piling claw-like mountain ranges – their peaks move up. Like a small lone bird, small and fragile, we were tossed about, at first lifted up, then dropped again, by a treacherous sky.
At last, land – like a huge map, unfolded itself before us thro’ a break in the clouds. This was not England, even from the air it looked foreign and new. Little hamlets and larger towns came into view, the monotonous brown houses of English towns became the coloured houses of another country in a period of a few hours. My imagination ran riot, I could see these olive skinned, gaily dressed people gathered round in groups, singing songs of love and battle to the strains of a guitar.
Like England, this land soon sank into the sea. Once more, sky and water surrounded us on all sides. But soon, a stretch of golden sand appeared above the sea ahead of us. This thrill soon turned into wonder and later into disappointment, the sand was not the sandy coast we were used to, but it stretched inland. We were in a land of sand – the monotony of the gold and brown occasionally broken by small patches of greenery. We landed and once more our feet were on firm soil. Were we really in Africa after such a short period in the air? The coolness of the English autumn had gone, we stood on the desert sands under the heat of a merciless sun.
Grasshoppers chirped – and jumped around. The grasshoppers, three or four inches long seemed awesome in size to one who had seen them only an inch long. The birds were different, and seemed to be having a grand time feeding upon all kinds of strange insects which hovered around in this sparse station.
Natives were busy working, but worked slowly, tho’ just to move around was an effort. Had I not felt so hot, I might have thought they were making the work last out to prevent them having to fall back upon the scanty living offered by some unemployment benefit. Thoughts of the homeland were still fresh in my mind. Thieving is considered an honourable profession by these Arab-come French Moroccans (Wogs) – so we brought everything movable with us.
These natives roamed all over the place – but we were told they were men at work. One old fellow, gaunt and lean of figure, seemed to have a great problem on his mind. With his hands tightly clasped behind his back, his head forward, (chin well in his collar so to speak), he paced the floor for one solid hour. We left the scene before his pacing had stopped.
We were taken to our billets – like bathing chalets - & with the sand outside it was like being on a beach back home, without the sea being there. We were hungry, and food seemed to be all that mattered to us then. We were told by the natives that ??? o’ clock was dinner time, and that we had to wait until then. We did not intend to do that if we could possibly help it. We tackled an R.A.F. fellow, & a few tins of food soon appeared. My appetite soon vanished, not because my hunger had been satisfied; vegetables of indescribable taste, the unpleasantness of which had conquered those pangs. White bread – most pleasant change – was a blessing and we made a meal of dry white bread.
We prepared for leaving early the next morning, and had another meal, better than the last one. The sweet potato which I had heard of disappointed me – I did not like it.
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