After six days of this lounging and scrounging on a large tract of desert, we left Tobruk for Derna [Libyan coast] by lorry & trailer, fifty men to each. It was nine hours along the coastal road terminating in the superb zig-zag road dropping 3,000 feet down the escarpment to this very picturesque little town of white houses and red and purple flowers. Here literally thousands of us were packed tight in an old disused cemetery. So tightly were we herded together, that during the first night it was impossible to lie down to sleep. This was our first experience at the hands of the Italians. Our rations now became 2 large biscuits and 8oz meat between three men. The only godsend here was abundance of water.
Dysentery was rife here and we were really in a very pitiable plight. The Libyan guards would loose off their rifles at the slightest provocation and many of our chaps were wounded. I felt very low in this hell hole and consider it to be by far my worst experience, and well up to the Italian standard. Eventually on the morning of the 29th of June our little party managed to squeeze itself out and into the lorry bound for Benghasi. It had taken us all of two days to manoeuvre ourselves to the gate.
The ration for the journey to Benghasi was 3 Italian biscuits of the large dog variety and 8oz. tin of meat. It was fifteen hours run between the two towns, and some of the scenery was simply marvellous. Derna Pass being one of the ruggedest sights I have seen. One of the routes was along the bottom of a ravine with cliffs towering on all sides, whilst about 1000 or more feet above hung the remains of a modem road and bridge most efficiently demolished successively by the Italians & British. Along this coastal strip there was a considerable amount of vegetation. Some olive trees and a little maize & wheat cultivated by Italian colonists living in stereotyped square houses with the fascist emblem very conspicuously placed over the door together with the date of building AD. 1940 XVIII year of fascism.
Benghasi had a particularly eastern look about it from a distance whilst on closer inspection this trait was not so marked in the actual town itself. The houses were white and balconied with the inevitable riot of brilliant flowers on trees and climbing plants. Its war scars were very evident but not so much as one would expect from a town which had changed hands and been bombed so often.
Ten men to a tent, a long low affair in which it was just possible to sit up, nevertheless it was cover from the sun by day and the chill of the night. We were very thankful for this cover as many of us were very weak and dizzy from lack of food and too much exposure to the sun.
Left Benghasi on “Ravello” with escort of 4 destroyers. Down in aft hold although most all day we were allowed on deck. Rations now returned to two biscuits and tin of bully. Spent my wedding anniversary in mid-Mediterranean – lovely weather, such a change from the desert dust. The seamen were quite friendly.