So in the end it came to this: if you wanted a complete change from
Palestine you had to go to Egypt for it, either _via_ hospital or on leave.
In the latter case, when you had succeeded in the superhuman task of
convincing the orderly-room clerk that your name was next on the roster,
there came first a long trek across country to railhead. Here you were
harassed by an officious person called the R.T.O. who inspected your papers
and then scrutinised your person in order to satisfy himself that you were
not a criminal escaping from justice. Then you were handed over to an
underling who led you to a glorified cattle-truck, whose interior was an
amazing jumble of boots, bare knees, helmets, rifles, packs, faces, and
drill clothing, and courteously invited you to step inside.

Regardless of the howl of protest from within the truck you thrust a
tentative leg over the side, to be met immediately with a muffled but
earnest request that you removed your boot from the speaker's face. This
little difficulty overcome, perseverance was necessary before you could add
_your_ person and kit to the heterogeneous collection already filling the
truck. This resolved itself presently into some thirty fellow-sufferers,
who, by dint of shuffling and squeezing, made room for yet another on the
floor. Then came the thirteen-hour journey to Kantara, followed by another
four hours on the Egyptian State Railway to Cairo, or seven to Alexandria.
If you accomplished the whole journey without going into hospital you
could, on your arrival, consider yourself on leave.

Now in seven days it was impossible to do more than touch the fringe of
Cairo. The first three were occupied in accustoming yourself to sleeping in
a real bed and to being caged within four walls at night. Then you set
yourself to discover interesting places to visit. By the time you had made
a selection for the day, it was too late to start for the place and you
retired to Groppi's for a "melange," with which to console yourself for the
disappointment. I knew quite a number of men who neither went to the
pyramids, nor saw the Sphinx, nor climbed up to the Citadel to see the
mosque of Mahomet Ali, nor penetrated into the bazaars, nor even visited
the Zoo. They all said that it took them so long to make up their minds
where to go that the day was spent ere they had decided, so they went
nowhere. I fancy that a large number of men were so overcome by the
unaccustomed sight of shops and