大象传媒

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The Chicken Story By Stan Rogers
I was a warrant officer in the Royal Army Ordinance Corps and I was stationed at Tripoli at a forward motor transport supply depot. I'd worked there for many months, when I was called for by the C. 0. (the commanding officer) and told that I had a message from Cairo (headquarters) that I was required at a special job in Turkey, and I was to be returned immediately.
So next day, I packed my kit, and I was taken to the transport department with a movement order on the top of which in big capital letters it said `TO BE RETURNED TO BASE, FASTEST POSSIBLE MEANS'
The Major said "Oh dear, there is a convoy going tomorrow, you'd better go tomorrow."
I said, "Isn't there anything faster than that?"He said, "If you think you can walk it any quicker, that's all I can offer you."

So the next day I was allocated a lorry. I was in charge of the lorry, with about 20 of us in the lorry. I think there were 20-30 lorries altogether. First thing of course, we were issued with rations, which was a big tin of hard biscuits. Now these tins are sealed, they are about 12 inches square and about 24 inches high. You cut them across the middle, and you got two boxes about 12 inches square. You used one for heating your food up, and the other as a stove. The stove, you half fill with sand, pour petrol in and light it. Your rations were like a vegetable stew. You were allocated so many of these tins, you pour these in the tin at the top, and any few biscuits are crunched up and anybody had bully beef you dropped those in and that was our meal.
So, we set off and each day we had a meal and I allocated two men each time to do the cooking. We had been away about three days and were right out in the desert. It was dark, it was evening time and we'd had our meal when some Arabs appeared outside the area where we had camped. So the two young men went off and said they were going to see if they had got anything to sell. They took with them the `V' cigarettes that we were issued with, which nobody ever smoked, we used to say that they were made from camel dung, but I don't know whether that's right or not! Anyway, they went off and they came back, I thought they'd come back with perhaps a few eggs, but no, they came back with a chicken! I said, "What are you going to do with that?" They said, "Oh, we'll feed it up, and one day we'll have chicken stew". So, when it was time to move off next morning, the chicken just gamely jumped up on the back axle, and off we went, and it stayed there all day. At night, in the evening when it was time to have our meal again, it jumped off and it was going around pecking out of everybody's mess tin, feeding itself on biscuits and all sorts of things. This went on for some time, and when we got somewhere near Ben-Gazi, there was a feeding centre, where you can have a proper meal, so we camped there for two or three nights. Each day, the boys brought out all sorts of things for the chicken. However, after 2000-odd miles, I began to say, "Well, what about this chicken stew?" But no, no, nobody had the heart to kill it. And I said, "Well, leave it a bit". So they kept leaving it, and kept leaving it, and eventually we arrived at Cairo and the chicken was still with us. I went to report in, and the commanding officer said, "Where on earth have you been?" I told him, and he said, "Well, I'm afraid it's too late now, we've had to send somebody else instead." However, I went back to see how the men were getting on, whether they'd got their billets or not, and there they were in the NAAFI; and clucking - cluck-a-cluck-a-cluck-a-cluck-a, up and down the bar, drinking from their beer, was the chicken. And I never saw it again. So, I never got my chicken and I didn't get my Turkey either!

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