The Day before the Six Day War

Anne Hughes

1967

Derna, Libya, Sunday 4th June 1967 7 am

It was already a hot 86F when we nervously arrived at the office. The area was unusually quiet and it was strange not to be met by Master and Troy, the two guard dogs, but they had been found poisoned in the courtyard the day before. The interpreters, Abdul and Ibrahim, had not turned up for work and in the drawing office the engineers were standing in a huddle talking in low voices.

From the back office I could hear Mels raised voice shouting clipped angry questions down the phone presumably to London HQ. We knew from the BBC World Service that things were hotting up in the area but we didnt need the News to tell us. The Tripoli office had been burnt to the ground four days before, no deaths, but everything legal data, drawings and plans, had been lost. The Americans had already been flown out of the country, most of their homes then ransacked or set on fire and any pets killed.

8.30am

Mel, face red and sweat running from his grey hair, came through quickly to say the Foreign Office had advised us to pack immediately. It was proposed that as there was no airfield nearby a boat would come at dusk to take us to Cyprus. It was agreed that the staff should congregate in Mels flat and ours. Which was next door. This would make communication easier as Mels was the only one with a telephone and we would all be together for a mass exodus when the time came. The engineers left, with the exception of Jim Robinson, who had his wife Sue and three year old daughter Kara staying in the country with him. He stubbornly decided to remain in his own accommodation until the time came to leave.

10am 94F

Returning to our flat through the deserted streets I could see that the town had closed down not one person or animal was to be seen, but invisible eyes followed us. I hurriedly packed our belongings, most of which had been wedding presents only 6 months before, when at that time, aged 22, the furthest I had travelled from Glasgow had been to London. Gradually over the next couple of hours fifteen of the staff began to arrive with their bags and cases, each trying to find a small space to make their own in the two bed roomed flats cramped conditions. Eighteen also squeezed into Mels next door.

Between them these engineers and scientists, from all over the British Isles, had many years of working experience throughout the world. Some had been in Ethiopia, Sudan, Nigeria and Uganda and before very long bravado stories of escapades in similar circumstances were being told in loud and laughing voices.

12 noon - 101F

Mel arrived with the incredulous news that the Foreign Office had now said we were not to leave. Although the Americans had gone, the British would be staying. The situation would blow over and would be back to normal in a few days. I unpacked a few bits of crockery and began to prepare a meal.

5pm

There was a loud banging on the door and the Robinsons arrived looking really badly shaken. A crowd of locals had gathered around their building chanting and shouting and Jim had barricaded the doors and windows. Fortunately one of the office translators had witnessed this in the street and had managed to quell the riot and get them out. Sue and Kara were crying but Jim was traumatised, eyes glazed, and he would not/could not speak. I sat with them for some time as we tried in vain to get a response from him. This immediately quietened all present and a noticeable tension spread through the flat. Nothing was said but quick looks of sudden fearful realisation concentrated the minds. The smell of sweat on clothes and bodies and the sound of fast breathing made the sweltering heat more claustrophobic in the crowded conditions.

6pm Dusk 86F

Without warning the electricity cut out making the coolers redundant and hiking the temperature in the flat to a suffocating high.

8.30pm

Mel rushed in from next door with panic in his eyes to say that unbelievably we were to leave after all. It had taken seven hours of constant trying to get this last communication to London HQ and from them to the Foreign Office who had suddenly changed the plan again and we were to go ASAP. I repacked. The question was how were we to leave? Where was the boat coming from? When would it be here? How would we get to the harbour with only three small cars down below in the street? The site vehicles were miles away at the wadi. Everyone became animated with wild ideas and suggestions of what could be done to get us out of the country but in time they dwindled to the implausibility for it was obvious there would be no official answers and no definitive information forthcoming.

This realisation, and the thought that perhaps there had never even been a boat in the first place, created further immediate reaction in the flat. Three of the engineers became very agitated. They said they had seen before what could happen in situations like this where by the skin of their teeth they had made an escape from some volatile country. They began to pace up and down the room. I sensed with a shiver that the critical line between calm and panic was about to be tested. I was glad that I had no previous experience and now no time to imagine it. One of them went onto the flat roof of the building and came immediately back with the breathless news that armed men were standing in the shadows at the front of the building and also at the end of the street.

10pm - 77F

Twenty of us now sat, stood or crouched in silence, crushed into the small living room, all of our senses were on alert and every noise and creek in the building was an instant threat.

10.30pm

Suddenly, splitting the silence, the towns loud speakers came on playing loud marching music. This was interrupted every few minutes by speeches from an aggressive, commanding voice. The noise was excruciating and relentless as it blasted across the town. Thought was obliterated.

11.15pm

Abruptly the marching music stopped as quickly as it had begun and the nights sounds reverted back to the endless hiss of crickets. I had a feeling of momentary relief, but it was short lived.

Almost at once there was a new noise coming from say three to four miles away to the west, along the Ras al-Hillal escarpment road, and getting louder by the minute thousands of marching feet and the thunder of tanks.