For troops operating in the desert, water was vital.
The official ration, when it was met, was 4.5 litres/1 gallon of water per man per day. Of this, the majority, five pints, went to the cookhouse for the preparation of meals and the steady supply of tea that the army required. This left two pints for drinking – generally issued one before dawn and one after dusk, with drinking water in daylight hours discouraged – and just one pint for personal hygiene. This was the seldom-met ideal, and even when it was delivered it left very little room for waste. When looking at water usage, drinking is the most obvious thing that comes to mind, but let’s look at those three uses in order.
Cooking:
Napoleon probably never actually said that an army marches on its stomach, but that doesn’t make it any the less true. Food is an important part of any daily routine, especially when doing hard, physical work like soldiering, and it can make all the difference to both morale and health, and through them to general efficiency. The food issued in Egypt and Palestine varied over time and between locations. Troops coming into Egypt in 1914 initially faced shortages as the commissariat struggled to keep up, but soon things improved. In camp in Egypt, food could be quite varied and good. Lance Corporal R. Loudon of the 4th Royal Scots recorded his daily rations while at a training camp near Cairo:
“Our rations in camp were tea, bread, bacon (or two eggs), cheese and jam for breakfast; tea, bread, cheese and jam for lunch (at 1 p.m.), and stew, or beef cooked in soup, and potatoes for dinner (at 5 pm). There was a YMCA hut in camp where we could purchase a cup of tea, and various titbits, very cheaply.” [R. Loudon IWM 87/17/1]
Obviously, to make stew and prepare fresh food like this took water, which was why each man lost most of his ration to the cookhouse. In the rear areas in Palestine similar standards were later kept up, although the troops at the front (particularly during the big offensives and advances) had a much blander diet. As in France, bully beef and biscuits were the staple. The bully beef tended to turn into goo in the heat, and was heavily salted, while the biscuit was also dry and hard. These were not ideal desert foods, and in fairness to the army, efforts were made to bring up fresh and frozen meat, vegetables and fruit whenever possible, but the logistics of supplying an advancing army in a country with little infrastructure was difficult. In Palestine, troops were happy to be able to buy food (particularly oranges of course) from local villages and farmers, but in the Sinai there were often no such sources. The best that could be done was cooking the local wildlife, which left a lot to be desired. Oskar Teichman, Medical Officer of the QOWH, discovered for example that the flamingos that inhabited the Canal were ‘of no use as food.’ [Memoirs of a Yeomanry MO, p. 47] In fact, according to Trooper Hatton, flamingo meat would turn green on being cooked and ‘was as tough as old boots, and of a similar flavour.’ [Yarn of a Yeoman, p. 96]
As well as the preparation and cooking of food, the water that was put aside for the cookhouse also supplied the life-blood of the army, tea. This too was vital for morale and efficiency, Lieutenant Briscoe Moore of the New Zealand Mounted Rifles finding that:
“The early morning hours of darkness are the most trying, for then vitality is at its lowest and fatigued bodies ache all over. Then comes the first lightening of the eastern sky, and the new day dawns with a cheering influence, which is increased as the next halt gives the opportunity for a hurried ‘boil-up’ of tea; after which things seem not so bad after all to the dust-smothered and unshaven warriors.” [The Mounted Rifleman in Sinai and Palestine, p. 83]
The official ration, when it was met, was 4.5 litres/1 gallon of water per man per day. Of this, the majority, five pints, went to the cookhouse for the preparation of meals and the steady supply of tea that the army required. This left two pints for drinking – generally issued one before dawn and one after dusk, with drinking water in daylight hours discouraged – and just one pint for personal hygiene. This was the seldom-met ideal, and even when it was delivered it left very little room for waste. When looking at water usage, drinking is the most obvious thing that comes to mind, but let’s look at those three uses in order.
Cooking:
Napoleon probably never actually said that an army marches on its stomach, but that doesn’t make it any the less true. Food is an important part of any daily routine, especially when doing hard, physical work like soldiering, and it can make all the difference to both morale and health, and through them to general efficiency. The food issued in Egypt and Palestine varied over time and between locations. Troops coming into Egypt in 1914 initially faced shortages as the commissariat struggled to keep up, but soon things improved. In camp in Egypt, food could be quite varied and good. Lance Corporal R. Loudon of the 4th Royal Scots recorded his daily rations while at a training camp near Cairo:
“Our rations in camp were tea, bread, bacon (or two eggs), cheese and jam for breakfast; tea, bread, cheese and jam for lunch (at 1 p.m.), and stew, or beef cooked in soup, and potatoes for dinner (at 5 pm). There was a YMCA hut in camp where we could purchase a cup of tea, and various titbits, very cheaply.” [R. Loudon IWM 87/17/1]
Obviously, to make stew and prepare fresh food like this took water, which was why each man lost most of his ration to the cookhouse. In the rear areas in Palestine similar standards were later kept up, although the troops at the front (particularly during the big offensives and advances) had a much blander diet. As in France, bully beef and biscuits were the staple. The bully beef tended to turn into goo in the heat, and was heavily salted, while the biscuit was also dry and hard. These were not ideal desert foods, and in fairness to the army, efforts were made to bring up fresh and frozen meat, vegetables and fruit whenever possible, but the logistics of supplying an advancing army in a country with little infrastructure was difficult. In Palestine, troops were happy to be able to buy food (particularly oranges of course) from local villages and farmers, but in the Sinai there were often no such sources. The best that could be done was cooking the local wildlife, which left a lot to be desired. Oskar Teichman, Medical Officer of the QOWH, discovered for example that the flamingos that inhabited the Canal were ‘of no use as food.’ [Memoirs of a Yeomanry MO, p. 47] In fact, according to Trooper Hatton, flamingo meat would turn green on being cooked and ‘was as tough as old boots, and of a similar flavour.’ [Yarn of a Yeoman, p. 96]
As well as the preparation and cooking of food, the water that was put aside for the cookhouse also supplied the life-blood of the army, tea. This too was vital for morale and efficiency, Lieutenant Briscoe Moore of the New Zealand Mounted Rifles finding that:
“The early morning hours of darkness are the most trying, for then vitality is at its lowest and fatigued bodies ache all over. Then comes the first lightening of the eastern sky, and the new day dawns with a cheering influence, which is increased as the next halt gives the opportunity for a hurried ‘boil-up’ of tea; after which things seem not so bad after all to the dust-smothered and unshaven warriors.” [The Mounted Rifleman in Sinai and Palestine, p. 83]
Image: an unknown infantry unit gathered around the cooking fire, Sidi Bishu, 1916
Hygiene:
In the dust and dirt of the desert, good hygiene was naturally crucial for good health, and it also had a distinct effect on mental health, too.
“I cannot describe to an ordinary clean person the most revolting sensation that a fellow undergoes when first he discovers that he has become the prey of body-lice. I think I was more inclined to be sick at their first appearance than at anything I saw or smelt during the whole War. After a time one got quite used to the little pests, and entered into the sport of the daily ‘louse’ with glee.” [Hatton, Yarn of Yeoman, p. 74]
One way of de-lousing was to literally stir up an ant’s nest, and then lay your clothes over the top of it. The ants would swarm up and eat the lice and their eggs, and would then need to be shaken off themselves.
The occasional ‘bath’ could also sometimes be arranged in the Sinai, where in some areas the water table was only just below the surface. While unfit for drinking, it could be used to cool and clean. Gunner Anthony Bluett was posted in an otherwise desolate area to the east of the southern end of the Suez Canal:
“Fortunately there was washing-water in abundance, as we quickly discovered in our digging operations. Two or three feet down the sand was quite moist, and if the hole was left for a time, brackish water percolated through in sufficient quantities for a bath. It was the daily custom, after evening-stables, to rush across to the washing-pits, peel off our saturated clothes and stand in pairs, back to back, while a comrade poured bucket after bucket of water over our perspiring bodies until we were cool enough to put on a change of clothes … You, who dwell in temperate climes, with water – hot and cold – at a hand’s turn, will perhaps accuse me of labouring the point. I cannot help it; no words of mine can express what it meant to have that clean feeling for just an hour or two. It was ineffable luxury; it helped us to endure.” [A Gunner’s Crusade, p.29]
Divisions would frequently be rotated to allow them to spend short periods near the Mediterranean coast, where sea bathing was a popular past time. At other times, troops simply had to make the most of what little they had. Lieutenant James Mackie of the 2/4th Somerset Light Infantry had served in India before his battalion was posted to Palestine, and so was no stranger to hot climates, but even so he found the lack of water trying:
“We don’t waste very much I can assure. We use about a pint every morning to wash, shave & clean our teeth in & then this water is used by our batmen to wash socks etc in before it is thrown away. We can’t afford water to wash our plates in but sand makes a very good substitute & you can get them just as clean by rubbing them with sand as by washing them in water. As a matter of fact they don’t want much cleaning for we clean them fairly well with bread before we finish our meals for even a drop of gravy is too valuable to waste.” [Answering the Call, p. 293]
In such conditions, diseases of all types were common. They varied over time – venereal disease was common when the army was largely based in the Egypt in 1916 (7.5%), and later in Palestine in 1918 (5%), but tailed off in between when the EEF spent most of 1917 in the desert (2.8%). Dysentery remained fairly common (2-3% of the EEF), while diarrhoea became more prevalent in Palestine (from 3% up to 7.5%). Malaria was very low in Egypt, but grew to afflict 13% of the EEF in Palestine in 1918, mostly due to the Jordan Valley. In all, soldiers in the EEF were ten times more likely to be hospitalised with disease than wounds, and at times the hospitalisation rate grew to over 100% of the force per year, as some men were committed more than once.
A particularly prevalent problem throughout the campaigns were septic sores. Trooper Victor Godrich of the Worcestershire Yeomanry recalled:
“Every man in the fighting forces was covered in sceptic sores on their hands, faces and legs – all in bandages. My own hands did not properly heal until the cold weather in December … If one’s hand was accidentally knocked against a saddle, a large piece of skin came off. The result was an open sore that would not heal. The swarms of flies settling on the sore did not improve matters, so we had to use bandages for self-preservation.” [Mountains of Moab, p. 108]
Metal was often painted black or green to prevent such accidents, as well as stopping glints that could give away their position to the enemy, but even knocking oneself wasn’t necessary. Sand became ground into the fabric of uniforms, making already rough material even stiffer and rougher, and simply friction could dig deep sores into the skin. Almost everyone suffered, and they were so common that hospital treatment was reserved only for the worst cases. Godrich recalls a sick-parade by his entire regiment to have their sores examined: ‘The first line were “bad” cases, wrecks etc. The second line “fairly bad” and the rear rank “not so bad.”’ [Mountains of Moab, p. 108]
Hygiene:
In the dust and dirt of the desert, good hygiene was naturally crucial for good health, and it also had a distinct effect on mental health, too.
“I cannot describe to an ordinary clean person the most revolting sensation that a fellow undergoes when first he discovers that he has become the prey of body-lice. I think I was more inclined to be sick at their first appearance than at anything I saw or smelt during the whole War. After a time one got quite used to the little pests, and entered into the sport of the daily ‘louse’ with glee.” [Hatton, Yarn of Yeoman, p. 74]
One way of de-lousing was to literally stir up an ant’s nest, and then lay your clothes over the top of it. The ants would swarm up and eat the lice and their eggs, and would then need to be shaken off themselves.
The occasional ‘bath’ could also sometimes be arranged in the Sinai, where in some areas the water table was only just below the surface. While unfit for drinking, it could be used to cool and clean. Gunner Anthony Bluett was posted in an otherwise desolate area to the east of the southern end of the Suez Canal:
“Fortunately there was washing-water in abundance, as we quickly discovered in our digging operations. Two or three feet down the sand was quite moist, and if the hole was left for a time, brackish water percolated through in sufficient quantities for a bath. It was the daily custom, after evening-stables, to rush across to the washing-pits, peel off our saturated clothes and stand in pairs, back to back, while a comrade poured bucket after bucket of water over our perspiring bodies until we were cool enough to put on a change of clothes … You, who dwell in temperate climes, with water – hot and cold – at a hand’s turn, will perhaps accuse me of labouring the point. I cannot help it; no words of mine can express what it meant to have that clean feeling for just an hour or two. It was ineffable luxury; it helped us to endure.” [A Gunner’s Crusade, p.29]
Divisions would frequently be rotated to allow them to spend short periods near the Mediterranean coast, where sea bathing was a popular past time. At other times, troops simply had to make the most of what little they had. Lieutenant James Mackie of the 2/4th Somerset Light Infantry had served in India before his battalion was posted to Palestine, and so was no stranger to hot climates, but even so he found the lack of water trying:
“We don’t waste very much I can assure. We use about a pint every morning to wash, shave & clean our teeth in & then this water is used by our batmen to wash socks etc in before it is thrown away. We can’t afford water to wash our plates in but sand makes a very good substitute & you can get them just as clean by rubbing them with sand as by washing them in water. As a matter of fact they don’t want much cleaning for we clean them fairly well with bread before we finish our meals for even a drop of gravy is too valuable to waste.” [Answering the Call, p. 293]
In such conditions, diseases of all types were common. They varied over time – venereal disease was common when the army was largely based in the Egypt in 1916 (7.5%), and later in Palestine in 1918 (5%), but tailed off in between when the EEF spent most of 1917 in the desert (2.8%). Dysentery remained fairly common (2-3% of the EEF), while diarrhoea became more prevalent in Palestine (from 3% up to 7.5%). Malaria was very low in Egypt, but grew to afflict 13% of the EEF in Palestine in 1918, mostly due to the Jordan Valley. In all, soldiers in the EEF were ten times more likely to be hospitalised with disease than wounds, and at times the hospitalisation rate grew to over 100% of the force per year, as some men were committed more than once.
A particularly prevalent problem throughout the campaigns were septic sores. Trooper Victor Godrich of the Worcestershire Yeomanry recalled:
“Every man in the fighting forces was covered in sceptic sores on their hands, faces and legs – all in bandages. My own hands did not properly heal until the cold weather in December … If one’s hand was accidentally knocked against a saddle, a large piece of skin came off. The result was an open sore that would not heal. The swarms of flies settling on the sore did not improve matters, so we had to use bandages for self-preservation.” [Mountains of Moab, p. 108]
Metal was often painted black or green to prevent such accidents, as well as stopping glints that could give away their position to the enemy, but even knocking oneself wasn’t necessary. Sand became ground into the fabric of uniforms, making already rough material even stiffer and rougher, and simply friction could dig deep sores into the skin. Almost everyone suffered, and they were so common that hospital treatment was reserved only for the worst cases. Godrich recalls a sick-parade by his entire regiment to have their sores examined: ‘The first line were “bad” cases, wrecks etc. The second line “fairly bad” and the rear rank “not so bad.”’ [Mountains of Moab, p. 108]
Image: Australian troops at a 'de-lousing' station.
Drinking:
There was seldom enough water for soldier’s to drink in the unaccustomed heat of Egypt and Palestine, although the situation tended to get better the longer an individual was ‘in country’. Private John Taberner recalled arriving in Alexandria in late September 1914:
“You have no idea how much work there is to march with full pack on from the boat including the army Great Coat which is enough for any man by itself … The sun was scorching & we had to march to the fort [Mustapha Barracks] without a stop. Sweat was running off our faces & hands in a continual stream … We are still in the same heavy uniform we had in England which is worse than cruelty to animals although we are expecting new thin uniforms any moment … The army shirts are thick woollen & the socks are of that coarse wool & are too thick for this climate.” [J. Taberner IWM 16631]
However, a few weeks spent acclimatizing did wonders, and a few weeks’ relatively easy living in the Nile Delta became standard for all new troops arriving in the theatre, before being sent to the front. Equally, as the supply situation became more organised, heavy serge uniforms were swapped for light khaki drill, and shorts for the infantry. Most units allowed their men to further modify their uniforms, shortening or even removing sleeves, and wearing soft tennis shoes, local ‘slippers’ or sandals when off duty.
Troops were also trained to only drink at night, before dawn or after dusk (when the rations tended to be measured and issued). This way, water drunk was not immediately sweated back out again without much benefit. This was often hard to actually manage, Lieutenant Briscoe Moore recalling: “In the great heat of the blazing desert the temptation to drink freely was well-nigh irresistible, but every man had to exercise the greatest care, and no more than sip at his water-bottle.” [The Mounted Rifleman in Sinai and Palestine, p. 25]
When carrying out physical labour the temptation and need for water could become all-consuming, and in such a climate even marching was demanding:
“A single water-bottle, once filled, is but a poor supply for a long day under the Egyptian sun. Marching over heavy sand in the hot hours, even when the haversack has replaced the pack, soon produces an unparalleled drought. Sweat runs into a man’s eyes and drips from his chin. It runs down his arms and trickles from his fingers. It drenches his shirt and leaves great white streaks on his equipment. And while so much is running out, the desire to put something in grows and grows. The temptation to take a mouthful becomes well nigh irresistible, and once the bottle of sun-heated chlorine-flavoured water is put to the lips, it is almost impossible to put it down before its precious contents are gone.” [Fifth Battalion Highland Light Infantry, p.98.]
Digging could be worse, as Gunner Bluett discovered while establishing a new outpost:
“There followed days of unremitting toil … With bowed backs and blistered hands [we] shovelled up half the desert and put it down somewhere else; the other half we put into sandbags and made gun pits of them… Day by day the sun waxed stronger until work became a torture unspeakable and hardly to be borne. With the slightest exertion the perspiration ran in rivulets from face and finger-tips; clothes became saturated and clung like a glove to our dripping bodies; and if a man stood for a time in one place the sand around was sodden with his sweat.” [A Gunner’s Crusade, p. 28]
Of course, the ultimate strain was combat (as was highlighted in the previous part of this work on the water supply system). Suffice to say here that combat operations led to not only increased exertion and need for water, but also usually created situations where it was almost impossible to keep up a decent supply, as units moved rapidly or came under enemy fire. This could lead to some dire experiences, as recalled by Sergeant Walter Town MM of the 1/5th Essex Regiment, during the attack on Gaza in November 1917:
“For the first forty-eight hours we had only what water we had brought in our bottles, and the men were in a state of semi-stupor by the time we got the glad news that several petrol tins of water were being sent up at night …” [Town, IWM 15018]
This article, by Stuart Hadaway, first appeared in Great War Magazine No. 84, March 2015.
Drinking:
There was seldom enough water for soldier’s to drink in the unaccustomed heat of Egypt and Palestine, although the situation tended to get better the longer an individual was ‘in country’. Private John Taberner recalled arriving in Alexandria in late September 1914:
“You have no idea how much work there is to march with full pack on from the boat including the army Great Coat which is enough for any man by itself … The sun was scorching & we had to march to the fort [Mustapha Barracks] without a stop. Sweat was running off our faces & hands in a continual stream … We are still in the same heavy uniform we had in England which is worse than cruelty to animals although we are expecting new thin uniforms any moment … The army shirts are thick woollen & the socks are of that coarse wool & are too thick for this climate.” [J. Taberner IWM 16631]
However, a few weeks spent acclimatizing did wonders, and a few weeks’ relatively easy living in the Nile Delta became standard for all new troops arriving in the theatre, before being sent to the front. Equally, as the supply situation became more organised, heavy serge uniforms were swapped for light khaki drill, and shorts for the infantry. Most units allowed their men to further modify their uniforms, shortening or even removing sleeves, and wearing soft tennis shoes, local ‘slippers’ or sandals when off duty.
Troops were also trained to only drink at night, before dawn or after dusk (when the rations tended to be measured and issued). This way, water drunk was not immediately sweated back out again without much benefit. This was often hard to actually manage, Lieutenant Briscoe Moore recalling: “In the great heat of the blazing desert the temptation to drink freely was well-nigh irresistible, but every man had to exercise the greatest care, and no more than sip at his water-bottle.” [The Mounted Rifleman in Sinai and Palestine, p. 25]
When carrying out physical labour the temptation and need for water could become all-consuming, and in such a climate even marching was demanding:
“A single water-bottle, once filled, is but a poor supply for a long day under the Egyptian sun. Marching over heavy sand in the hot hours, even when the haversack has replaced the pack, soon produces an unparalleled drought. Sweat runs into a man’s eyes and drips from his chin. It runs down his arms and trickles from his fingers. It drenches his shirt and leaves great white streaks on his equipment. And while so much is running out, the desire to put something in grows and grows. The temptation to take a mouthful becomes well nigh irresistible, and once the bottle of sun-heated chlorine-flavoured water is put to the lips, it is almost impossible to put it down before its precious contents are gone.” [Fifth Battalion Highland Light Infantry, p.98.]
Digging could be worse, as Gunner Bluett discovered while establishing a new outpost:
“There followed days of unremitting toil … With bowed backs and blistered hands [we] shovelled up half the desert and put it down somewhere else; the other half we put into sandbags and made gun pits of them… Day by day the sun waxed stronger until work became a torture unspeakable and hardly to be borne. With the slightest exertion the perspiration ran in rivulets from face and finger-tips; clothes became saturated and clung like a glove to our dripping bodies; and if a man stood for a time in one place the sand around was sodden with his sweat.” [A Gunner’s Crusade, p. 28]
Of course, the ultimate strain was combat (as was highlighted in the previous part of this work on the water supply system). Suffice to say here that combat operations led to not only increased exertion and need for water, but also usually created situations where it was almost impossible to keep up a decent supply, as units moved rapidly or came under enemy fire. This could lead to some dire experiences, as recalled by Sergeant Walter Town MM of the 1/5th Essex Regiment, during the attack on Gaza in November 1917:
“For the first forty-eight hours we had only what water we had brought in our bottles, and the men were in a state of semi-stupor by the time we got the glad news that several petrol tins of water were being sent up at night …” [Town, IWM 15018]
This article, by Stuart Hadaway, first appeared in Great War Magazine No. 84, March 2015.