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[Page 12]
| 1916 | |
| Dec 14 | place to get a feed in and, not being able to locate such a thing, we went to one of the stores and bought such provisions as we felt like eating. Tim Woods, Duncan Woolley, Herb Larsen and myself (Walker not being with us on account of his being down with Malaria on the ship,) made our way to the Botanical Gardens, if such they may be called and, on our way thither bought some fruit and repaired - with our guide, a small black fry of about 8, who determined to stick with us for what he thought he should obtain for his labors - into the gardens and had a rest and some eats. We then made back to town. Went to the Post Office, sent some Post Cards home of Freetown, which were the best procurable. We then went through the Native quarter and had a good look round. Had a drink of "English" Lemonade at a native shop. We got out into the street again. While there we espied a diminutive nigger boy coming up the street, stark naked, with a pitcher of water on his head. He looked picturesque, but very black. Especially so when Tim Woods opened his camera and got ready to "shoot" him for a picture. The kid screamed as if Tim was going to take his life from him. He dropped the pitcher where he held it and made off at the top of his gear, much to the amusement of our boys and the chagrin of many of the native women standing by watchig the inhuman white proceedings. After wandering round until we felt fed up of the place and the heat, we made towards the quay again via the 26" guage railway station. Had a good look at the station. On reaching the Quay we saw a Military Funeral of an Australian lad from one of the transports. Native soldiers performed all the rites and necessary swank. The coffin was made and supplied by "the sympathetic undertakers" of Kissing Street, whose place we had passed previously that afternoon and which bore that noble inscription upon its unpretentious and dilapidated premises. After purchasing more stores of fruit and eats and lining up, we were marched to the barges again and once more embarked. Profiting by this morning's experience of getting into the pack in the centre of the barge, I took good care to get a seat on the side of the barge this time, where I could at least get some air, even if it was hot and hardly breathable. It seemed to be so thick that one could almost chew it. We left the shore for the steamer, about half a mile off, and we traversed the distance in something just under one hour, as far as I could judge. There was not one man who returned to the ship this afternoon who was not glad to be back again and who swore, that should an opportunity present itself, he would not again go ashore at Freetown. The place is run by Missionaries and if the morals the natives demonstrate are those taught by the Missionaries, God help them. |
| Dec 15 | Our Company being on duty no shore leave was given. Engineers were put on fatigues. I did Bakery work which was all I had to do that day. |
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