_March 18th._--Last night all men belonging to the 29th Division--and there is a large number here on their way back to their units after sick leave--were ordered to fall in at 6.30 p.m., and from then till 10.30 they were kept at their post. This long delay was merely for the purpose of preventing their wandering away and getting too much drink before their departure. We were booked to start soon after midnight. We had a heavy train with about 600 on board, mostly in cattle trucks.
I could see little of the country till dawn when we were passing through a most fertile, well-watered region; date palms in thousands; native villages of mud houses, the whole usually surrounded by low mud walls; hundreds of water wheels driven by oxen, the water drawn from a canal we were skirting.
We cut across, striking Suez Canal at Kantara. The last 20 miles or so was by an absolutely straight single track, through a sand desert, without a trace of animal life, and with only scattered clumps of fibrous vegetation. On looking forward one could see the sand flying like snow drift in front of a gentle breeze. This must continually block the line. The only surfacemen I saw were old fellows in dug-outs about a mile apart, each with a plentiful supply of great water jars. As we neared the Canal vegetation got rather more plentiful, with bushes resembling clumps of whin in the distance. Then houses, camps, and khaki, strings of camels led by natives in long white robes. We had struck the Canal; tramp steamers were passing through, and numbers of native boats were moored to the edges. Along the Canal were armed men, field guns studded about, and on the other side bigger guns in emplacements. The railway from Kantara to Port Said runs along the west bank, and within a few yards of the water's edge, and along this bank trees and shrubs form one continuous thicket.
We had much shunting on reaching Port Said before we got the train alongside the docks, amidst the awful shrieking of our most unmusical engine whistle. The Egyptian is notorious for his love of this fiendish noise, one blast is never sufficient at any time, but he gives shriek after shriek till you feel inclined to kick him off his engine.