firmly to the surface, and when the roads were in good condition cars
could travel at high speed. Three or four widths of wire netting were
laced together, laid on the sand and pegged down. After a time loose
pockets of sand could not resist the weight of wheels and there became
many holes beneath the wire, and the jolting was a sore trial alike to
springs and to a passenger's temper. But here again constant attention
kept the roads in order, and if one could not describe travelling over
them as easy and comfortable they were at least sure, and one could
be certain of getting to a destination at an average speed of twelve
miles an hour. In sand the Ford cars have performed wonderful feats,
but remarkable as was the record of that cheap American car with
us--it helped us very considerably to win the war--you could never
tell within hours how long a journey would take off the wire roads.
Once leave the netting and you might with good luck and a skilful
driver get across the sand without much trouble, but it often meant
much bottom-gear work and a hot engine, and not infrequently the
digging out of wheels. The drivers used to try to keep to the tracks
made by other cars. These were never straight, and the swing from side
to side reminded you of your first ride on a camel's back. The wire
roads were a great help to us, and the officer who first thought out
the idea received our daily blessings. I do not know who he was, but I
was told the wire road scheme was the outcome of a device suggested
by a medical officer at Romani in 1916, when infantry could not march
much more than six miles a day through the sand. This officer made a
sort of wire moccasin which he attached to the boot and doubled the
marching powers of the soldier. A sample of those moccasins should
find a place in our War Museum.