Open Writing

As Arabs were still employed at Mile 25, I had to remain for another week although there was nothing to do; only Busty, Mac and Whitey remained. It seemed to me a glorious opportunity to disappear for a day or two and take the night train to Baghdad. I asked Whitey if it were at all possible.

"Sure thing, Jahnny, I'll sure cover fer you, son, but fer Gaad's sake now, don't you come back with th' paax."

"No, don't worry, Whitey, I won't come back with the pox. I promise you that I won't do a damn thing that you wouldn't do."

"Yeah! Now thefs jerst what ah am a-worryin' about. Off you go, then. Be back in two days. I'll cover fer you. If anybody asks, I'll tell 'em you're out with some of your Sheik friends."

In early civilisation, Iraq was a leading centre of agricultural cultivation, thanks to widespread irrigation systems utilising the waters of the Tigris and the Euphrates. Those early systems were magnificent feats of engineering, the huge Nimrood Dam, on the Tigris, lasting over 3000 years. Herodotus, the ancient historian, noted that,

'So great is the fertility of the grain fields, that they normally produce crops of two-hundredfold, and in an exceptional year as much as three-hundredfold. The blades of wheat and barley are at least three inches wide. As for millet and sesame, I will not say to what an astonishing size they grow, though I know well enough; but I also know that people who have not seen Babylonia have refused to believe even what I have said already about its fertility'.

In 629 A.D. a disastrous flood of immense proportions ruined embankments, dams and canals throughout the country, and it never recovered its former production. Although Iraq was now relying on its oil exports, efforts were still being made to improve agriculture. In some instances it was disheartening. An Iraqi Government Official invited me to see the irrigation canals constructed in the desert, not far from the pipeline. He explained that the Bedou were invited to occupy the land, free of charge, and to cultivate it under the guidance of agricultural experts. The Bedouins turned up with much enthusiasm and were shown how to proceed, but within days the Bedou started to disappear in the night, returning to their tribal areas, their black tents, camel breeding, sheep and goats. When the official showed me the location it was deserted.

My night train approached Baghdad at dawn and I sat watching the scenery. 'Is not Baghdad the beautiful?' Well, maybe then, but not now. It could not be compared to its modern sisters, Cairo and Beirut. The hotels were clean and comfortable, the service excellent, the food delicious, but they lacked the sophistication and that air of quiet opulence that one found in the good hotels in the other two cities.

The Baghdad streets were dirty, while the approach by rail passed through the most poverty-stricken suburbs on the outskirts of the capital. Jumbled together in a maze of narrow lanes were hovels of baked clay in appearance, while half-naked children played near them, enveloped in a permanent smell of sewage, which seeped into the railway carriage as we passed. I noticed some of them hopping in small squares and kicking a stone as they did so —hopscotch. Surely, the children's international game, for I had seen it played in England, Cairo, Tel Aviv, Rome and Marseilles.

The main streets of Baghdad were crowded with pedestrians and often it was necessary to step onto the road to avoid a donkey, staggering under its heavy load as it walked along the pavement. At this time there were fewer cars and very few late-model American cars, (as seen everywhere in Beirut), to cause any traffic jams.

Across the main bridge over the River Tigris, hundreds of pedestrians walked, mostly women dressed in the black robes of the Moslems, and looking like a disorderly army of nuns on a route march. The Tigris itself swirled by, its waters brown and murky. Beneath the bridge a dead camel floated along, its legs pointing grotesquely to the sky even as I watched, it hit an obstruction and, capsizing slowly onto its side, continued its journey onwards to the sea. Here and there I saw Kurds, dressed in their black clothes, with a black type of turban to match, and a wide cummerbund acting as a belt to keep up their voluminous, baggy trousers. The Arabs seemed to wear an Aged, used to keep their Kaffyeh headdress in position, a little thicker than those worn in Syria and Jordan, while in my hotel I saw one or two made of four layers of gold braid worn, probably, by some rich visitors.

It was not all poverty: luxurious houses and villas were to be seen and there were modem shops, well filled with European goods; but there were few tall office buildings and modern flats when compared with Cairo and Beirut. Poor Baghdad! She seemed at that time to be a decade behind her Arab sisters in devlopment but at least now, with the extra pipelines that we had laid, and with more to come, she could look forward to catching up in a short time, thanks to the increased oil revenues that would be enjoyed.