I have been out in the Syrian Desert only arriving back here for lunch today. We did not have such a hard time and much of it was very similar to going up to Libya. In fact, except for the continual dust and one day of exceptional heat, the excursion was quite an enjoyable change. The moon was full and the nights cool so it was very pleasant sleeping beneath the stars.

All the war news has been rather bright these last few days with large air raids by R.A.F. and the Russians at last holding the Huns and Rommell partially defeated in the desert. There is however a big struggle ahead this year but we'll hope that it will be the final one. We are still short of beer and I have only had a couple of bottles in a month - more good news you'll say. At all events it is probably better for our stomachs as the money previously spent on beer goes on fruit and other food stuffs.

We may find ourselves back in green country again by the trout stream where we first went in coming to Syria very shortly. I hope so even though it means the postponement of our leave in Beirut. It looks as though we may be in Syria when the fruit ripens yet. Pears and apples are forming fast while apricots are already ripening. Although the largest part of this country is desert, the soil is very rich, only rain is lacking and where irrigation is possible the gardens and orchards are luxurious. The whole land must have dried up gradually as Syria was once the granary for the Roman Empire and in those days, judging by the immensity of the old ruins, this was a most wonderful country.

The French seem to have done little good for the people during their control. In fact apart from various Gendarmeries, barracks and popular trees, little evidence of them is evident. The country folk know no French. Roads were in disrepair and have been taken in hand by our people. Black labour battalions, NZ engineers and natives are all active. We saw a lot of blacks recently. The natives are put to work by civilian foremen who get the contract for a piece of road from our authorities then sub-contract it to a native. The natives all work on their section - men, wives and children. It is strange to see women dressed in short dresses and long frilly-bottomed pantaloons sweeping roads, carrying metal and even spraying tar (the frills by the way are around their ankles).

One of the villages, merely a collection of white-washed huts, near the camp boasts restaurants and cafes without number. Practically every dwelling has roughly printed on its doorway many of the following legends - "Open to all ranks", "American bar" "meals" "Beer" etc. One even presumes to be for "Officers only."

The wheat is being harvested now through out the semi-arid parts and the methods used are pitifully primitive. The women go out with sickles on the scant crop and gather in the stunted wheat while the men load onto donkeys or camels to cart to the villages. The threshing is all by hand. The stalk goes to make fuel when mixed with animal manure (by women) and sun-dried. The camels up here have two humps. I'd be all humps if forced to live in the "glamorous and exotic Middle East". The desert is infested by small snakes, scorpions, asps, lizards, chameleons, and a few foxes. These often entertained us and have so far not caused any casualties.

I can well imagine Jim to be keen on getting into camp. Little does he know how willingly I would change places with him.