suddenly breaking the raw silence that hung over their breakfast cups.
Edward looked up, his bloodshot eyes and the untouched breakfast betraying the excesses of the previous night’s visit to a bar suggested by another group of soldiers with a recommendation that they should try the Camel whisky. Mistaking the name for a famous Scottish clan and being surprised by the reasonable price, they had ignored the dubious taste, which the Egyptian barman had told them was because of the heat, and had drunk a few too many of them.
‘Sorry, mate, what are you saying about legs?’
‘Do you have one that takes over when you are a bit drunk?’ said Liam, his voice sounding like two sheet of sandpaper rubbing together. ‘I always find that my right leg goes off and takes my right arm with it. Then my left leg makes a bloody feeble attempt to catch up but my left arm gets no signal at all and just hangs there. Just when I’m trying to get my left side sorted out, my right leg takes off again and makes a right bugger’s muddle of things.’
‘Can’t say that I’ve ever really thought about it,’ Edward replied, frowning with the strain of having to address such a demanding issue. ‘But I know that last night my left leg had a mind of its own.’
‘Have you ever noticed Big Charlie? The signals seem to take a bit of time to get down to his legs. His body takes off first but his feet stay where they are, and then he has to do a bit of a run to catch up with himself.’
‘Talking about Charlie,’ Edward said, suddenly remembering his big friend’s whereabouts, ‘We’d better go and give him a shake. We’re due on parade in ten minutes.’
***
When the morning parade was finished, and being much in need of some fresh air and exercise to purge the evil Camel whisky spirits, they decided on a trip to the pyramids.
‘I wonder how many navvies they needed to build this lot,’ the slowly recovering Big Charlie observed phlegmatically.
‘Well, they would have had plenty to go at if Cairo had been anything like it is today,’ Liam observed helpfully. ‘And if they ran a bit short they could always nip up the Nile into Africa and grab another boatload. They controlled everything round here in those days.’
‘But it sets you wondering, doesn’t it, as to how they got those big blocks up there?’ said Edward thoughtfully. ‘They must weigh a few tons apiece some of those.’
‘Aye. It’d take a fair bit of effort to lift them to the top of there,’ observed Big Charlie, his brow furrowing as he concentrated on the heights of the mighty constructions.
‘Hmm. I think that they would have had some kind of crane that they would have kept moving up to the different levels,’ suggested Liam.
‘Bit of a problem when you got to the pointed bit on the top though,’ Big Charlie countered.
‘Well, it’s probably hollow inside so that they could pull the stones up round it,’ Liam said impatiently. ‘If you opened it up you would probably find a crane still inside it.’
Leaving the awe inspiring constructions they retreated to the welcoming shade of a palm tree and shared a much needed billy-can of water. They watched as a British Army officer marched down the line of a long queue and stood in front of a group of camels carrying soldiers from the ranks of the 1/8 Lancashires. The sandy moustached, slightly rotund Major, monocle stuck imperiously in his right eye, held up his hand to stop the procession.
‘You there. Get off that animal and rejoin the queue. I will be taking this one over,’ he commanded.
The man looked impassively down at him but didn’t move and the Arab minder urged the camel forward.
‘Do you hear me? I am ordering you to get off that camel. I am your superior officer and you will do what I say immediately,’ the officer shouted angrily.
‘Well, sir,’ the soldier eventually said, ‘’Appen there might be a bit of a problem there. I’m a bit high up like. You’ll have
Edward looked up, his bloodshot eyes and the untouched breakfast betraying the excesses of the previous night’s visit to a bar suggested by another group of soldiers with a recommendation that they should try the Camel whisky. Mistaking the name for a famous Scottish clan and being surprised by the reasonable price, they had ignored the dubious taste, which the Egyptian barman had told them was because of the heat, and had drunk a few too many of them.
‘Sorry, mate, what are you saying about legs?’
‘Do you have one that takes over when you are a bit drunk?’ said Liam, his voice sounding like two sheet of sandpaper rubbing together. ‘I always find that my right leg goes off and takes my right arm with it. Then my left leg makes a bloody feeble attempt to catch up but my left arm gets no signal at all and just hangs there. Just when I’m trying to get my left side sorted out, my right leg takes off again and makes a right bugger’s muddle of things.’
‘Can’t say that I’ve ever really thought about it,’ Edward replied, frowning with the strain of having to address such a demanding issue. ‘But I know that last night my left leg had a mind of its own.’
‘Have you ever noticed Big Charlie? The signals seem to take a bit of time to get down to his legs. His body takes off first but his feet stay where they are, and then he has to do a bit of a run to catch up with himself.’
‘Talking about Charlie,’ Edward said, suddenly remembering his big friend’s whereabouts, ‘We’d better go and give him a shake. We’re due on parade in ten minutes.’
***
When the morning parade was finished, and being much in need of some fresh air and exercise to purge the evil Camel whisky spirits, they decided on a trip to the pyramids.
‘I wonder how many navvies they needed to build this lot,’ the slowly recovering Big Charlie observed phlegmatically.
‘Well, they would have had plenty to go at if Cairo had been anything like it is today,’ Liam observed helpfully. ‘And if they ran a bit short they could always nip up the Nile into Africa and grab another boatload. They controlled everything round here in those days.’
‘But it sets you wondering, doesn’t it, as to how they got those big blocks up there?’ said Edward thoughtfully. ‘They must weigh a few tons apiece some of those.’
‘Aye. It’d take a fair bit of effort to lift them to the top of there,’ observed Big Charlie, his brow furrowing as he concentrated on the heights of the mighty constructions.
‘Hmm. I think that they would have had some kind of crane that they would have kept moving up to the different levels,’ suggested Liam.
‘Bit of a problem when you got to the pointed bit on the top though,’ Big Charlie countered.
‘Well, it’s probably hollow inside so that they could pull the stones up round it,’ Liam said impatiently. ‘If you opened it up you would probably find a crane still inside it.’
Leaving the awe inspiring constructions they retreated to the welcoming shade of a palm tree and shared a much needed billy-can of water. They watched as a British Army officer marched down the line of a long queue and stood in front of a group of camels carrying soldiers from the ranks of the 1/8 Lancashires. The sandy moustached, slightly rotund Major, monocle stuck imperiously in his right eye, held up his hand to stop the procession.
‘You there. Get off that animal and rejoin the queue. I will be taking this one over,’ he commanded.
The man looked impassively down at him but didn’t move and the Arab minder urged the camel forward.
‘Do you hear me? I am ordering you to get off that camel. I am your superior officer and you will do what I say immediately,’ the officer shouted angrily.
‘Well, sir,’ the soldier eventually said, ‘’Appen there might be a bit of a problem there. I’m a bit high up like. You’ll have
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