The decks were crammed with that same khaki crowd of civilians who had
cursed and sworn and drilled and growled for ten long months in the
Old Country. You imagine what desperate adventurers they had suddenly
become. Some had never been out of Ireland, others had been as far as
Portsmouth, and taken a return voyage to the Isle of Wight. And each
day we zigzagged across the blue seas towards some unknown Fate . . .
death, perhaps . . . victory or failure--who could tell?

Until one day a thin, yellowish-white streak appeared upon the sea-
line; little groups of palms huddled together, and here and there a
white dome or a needle-minaret. And so we warped into harbour, through
the boom and past the Iightships, to join the crowd of transports and
battle cruisers lying off this muddled city--the city of wonderful
colour, Alexandria.




CHAPTER VIII


THE CITY OF WONDERFUL COLOUR: ALEXANDRIA


Scarlet-orange;
Beetle-green,
Flashing like a magic screen.
Silken garment,
'Broidered hood;