Memory of the month the way things were (Part Twenty Five)

Continuing our series on the memoirs of retired plant man William (Bill) Peters, told in his own words and with period photos from Bill's own archives.

Saudi Arabia 3

One day we were driving through the desert when we came upon an old chap stuck in a dune with the bonnet up on his small Datsun pickup, of which there seemed to hundreds about and this one looked almost new, stopping to help we could smell the engine was hot as hell and when I pulled the dip stick there was no oil showing and it was seized up solid, we of course didn’t speak Arabic and all he could do was point to the engine and say mafi, mafi, mafi, which I believe means no, the trouble was that most of these desert people were just coming out the dark ages so I doubt anyone had told him he needed to put oil in the engine so he just kept driving until it stopped. We had to leave him until some locals came along to rescue him

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A few days later another American arrived but his luggage hadn’t so a few days later we went to the local airport to pick it up, this airport was big enough for a large city not a small town around an oasis, we arrived at 4 o’clock but unknown to us it closed at that time of the day. There were two armed military guards on the entrance and the language problem again raised its ugly head, the Americans were trying to make the guards let us in and getting more and more angry but the guards would have none of it and after about twenty minutes we decided to leave.

Our large pickup had been in the blazing sun all this time and as my roommate turned round in the road and floored the throttle, the engine died leaving us stuck in the middle of the road due to the petrol  having vaporised in the carburettor. Almost immediately the guards had us at gunpoint with many others quickly joining them, they searched us which was a bit amusing as I was about 6’6 and my roommate 6’7 the Arabs being rather short had a job to reach our shoulders! The pickup was minutely searched even turning out a matchbox and I was glad I had left my camera behind, which was a shame as there were lots of Turkish delight type dunes near the airport this is why I have few photos of Saudi.

The Americans were getting more and more agitated making unfortunate gestures to the guards while I sat on a rock, one said to me how do you remain so goddamn calm! I said it’s their country and they’re the ones with the guns. After two hours the local prince came and after a while they let us go, I think they are a bit paranoid about security because occasionally as you drive along you come to an extra lane beside the road which I was told can be used to land military jets.

The company had drilled wells to get water to wet the sand and gravel so it could be compacted and when you have water you have to share it, so each morning a tanker would go out to the Bedouins who camped nearby and fill up their water bags, they could then fill up forty gallon drums cut off at the first ring, the goats would drink first then the children would go in and drink from the same drums, not too good to our western eyes. These large black neoprene bags sitting in the sun meant the water was never cool and one day we were have lunch under a tanker trailer being the only bit of shade for miles when a girl of about nine years old came over, one of the blokes offered her a cup of water which she drank and promptly fainted because she had never had cold water before, fortunately she soon recovered but it shows how something we take for granted could easily land you in trouble.

After this I was made earthmoving superintendent (a posh name for foreman). One day we had been sent some tins of food for lunch three days running, so the yanks threw them into the desert and as I abhor waste I gathered them up and left them beside a Bedouin tent and thought no more of it.  A few days later we were invited to a feast in our honour, it would have been a severe insult to refuse so I said to the guys you can go, but I have things to do elsewhere I’ll pick you up in an hour or so, I‘m afraid I just couldn’t face it and they did say it was a bit difficult at times, so not a mistake on my part. The co-operator