freckled face of a Jock to appear; alas, she would wait in vain. The Arab quarter was out of bounds and a three-mile hike over sand dunes from the Scots barracks.
Palestine soon lost its appeal to the optimistic young soldiers. After studying one groaning, syphilitic camel and marvelling at the novel sightof fruiting orange and lemon trees, many Scots began to yearn for the distant cold windswept hills of Caledonia. Apart from camels and exotic fruit, there was little else of interest except religious relics, melancholy buildings with crumbling masonry and faded artwork of angels. Statues of obscure saints with age worn faces stared down at the passing Scots from bullet pock-marked recesses of empty Christian churches. The Holy Land had been fought over many times during its violent history.
Their brand new heavy hob-nailed ammunition boots (of Boer War design and weight) were not suitable for hot climates or ideal for a stealthy approach and proved too cumbersome on long patrols. Before the coming battle in the New Territories Mainland China, the waiting Japanese could hear the Royal Scots taking up their positions on the Gin Drinkersâ Line from over a mile away due to their inappropriate footwear.
The Scots in Palestine blinked in the fierce heat of midday and skulked in the airless shadows, or lay panting in the filtered shade of dry dust coated olive groves and date palms during breaks from patrolling. The regular shrill calls for prayer from a lone white-robed figure high above caused many a Scot to curse and think of home. Even the sheep with their grotesquely deformed fat-tails did not make the Scots feel at home. Both the Jews and Arabs were unfriendly. Even the skirl of the pipes brought hostility; perhaps it reminded the inhabitants of the strutting Turkâs past brutal occupation. Only the local flies welcomed them with sanctimonious fervour.
In Palestine the Jews and the Arabs were at war and the British were caught in-between. The Royal Scots were often attacked by the Jewish freedom fighters. The Scots were surprised that Jewish women also fought in the ranks of the insurgents. The Jews wanted their own State to escape the persecution in Europe. This was a recipe for bloodshed. It still is.
According to Tam and Willie, two of dadâs friends who often visited us in Uxbridge, the Jews were well organised and planned their raids with military precision. The Jewish fighters specialized in ambush. The only effective way for the Royal Scots to retaliate was with machine guns firing tracers (one every five rounds) while the infantrywith fixed bayonets tried to quickly outflank them. The effect of the tracers arcing towards the Jewish fighters and the thought of being impaled on the end of an angry Jockâs bayonet, tended to unnerve the attackers. Who could blame them? The Jews quickly melted into the desert night taking their wounded, but sometimes were forced to leave their dead behind.
âIn Palestine Jack was soon to be promoted to RSM and hoped to get a transfer to the 2nd Battalion Royal Scots, who were being posted to India. India was next door to Burma and there was much military movement between the two countries. Jack hoped this would allow him to visit Taunggyi more often before he bought himself out of the army. No-one expected a war in the Far East. During his time in Palestine, Jack was sometimes a dispatch rider and he sent me a picture of himself on his motorcycle.â
I have a picture of dad on a motorbike in Palestine or India; it was placed on a grand piano in a Country House Hotel I once owned. That hotel was built to look like a castle complete with its own chapel, archway and tower, in 1863. This photograph was often discussed by many ex-servicemen who often stayed. I always took the picture for granted until a number of sharp eyed old veterans pointed out to me several reasons they believed it was a âstagedâ or âposedâ photograph for the benefit of
Palestine soon lost its appeal to the optimistic young soldiers. After studying one groaning, syphilitic camel and marvelling at the novel sightof fruiting orange and lemon trees, many Scots began to yearn for the distant cold windswept hills of Caledonia. Apart from camels and exotic fruit, there was little else of interest except religious relics, melancholy buildings with crumbling masonry and faded artwork of angels. Statues of obscure saints with age worn faces stared down at the passing Scots from bullet pock-marked recesses of empty Christian churches. The Holy Land had been fought over many times during its violent history.
Their brand new heavy hob-nailed ammunition boots (of Boer War design and weight) were not suitable for hot climates or ideal for a stealthy approach and proved too cumbersome on long patrols. Before the coming battle in the New Territories Mainland China, the waiting Japanese could hear the Royal Scots taking up their positions on the Gin Drinkersâ Line from over a mile away due to their inappropriate footwear.
The Scots in Palestine blinked in the fierce heat of midday and skulked in the airless shadows, or lay panting in the filtered shade of dry dust coated olive groves and date palms during breaks from patrolling. The regular shrill calls for prayer from a lone white-robed figure high above caused many a Scot to curse and think of home. Even the sheep with their grotesquely deformed fat-tails did not make the Scots feel at home. Both the Jews and Arabs were unfriendly. Even the skirl of the pipes brought hostility; perhaps it reminded the inhabitants of the strutting Turkâs past brutal occupation. Only the local flies welcomed them with sanctimonious fervour.
In Palestine the Jews and the Arabs were at war and the British were caught in-between. The Royal Scots were often attacked by the Jewish freedom fighters. The Scots were surprised that Jewish women also fought in the ranks of the insurgents. The Jews wanted their own State to escape the persecution in Europe. This was a recipe for bloodshed. It still is.
According to Tam and Willie, two of dadâs friends who often visited us in Uxbridge, the Jews were well organised and planned their raids with military precision. The Jewish fighters specialized in ambush. The only effective way for the Royal Scots to retaliate was with machine guns firing tracers (one every five rounds) while the infantrywith fixed bayonets tried to quickly outflank them. The effect of the tracers arcing towards the Jewish fighters and the thought of being impaled on the end of an angry Jockâs bayonet, tended to unnerve the attackers. Who could blame them? The Jews quickly melted into the desert night taking their wounded, but sometimes were forced to leave their dead behind.
âIn Palestine Jack was soon to be promoted to RSM and hoped to get a transfer to the 2nd Battalion Royal Scots, who were being posted to India. India was next door to Burma and there was much military movement between the two countries. Jack hoped this would allow him to visit Taunggyi more often before he bought himself out of the army. No-one expected a war in the Far East. During his time in Palestine, Jack was sometimes a dispatch rider and he sent me a picture of himself on his motorcycle.â
I have a picture of dad on a motorbike in Palestine or India; it was placed on a grand piano in a Country House Hotel I once owned. That hotel was built to look like a castle complete with its own chapel, archway and tower, in 1863. This photograph was often discussed by many ex-servicemen who often stayed. I always took the picture for granted until a number of sharp eyed old veterans pointed out to me several reasons they believed it was a âstagedâ or âposedâ photograph for the benefit of
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