ON THE MOVE--SEND-OFF FROM MA'ADI--THE BLUE MEDITERRANEAN--OFFICERS AND MEN OF THE A.L.H.--A COLLISION--AN AIR RECONNAISSANCE--OUR COLONEL ADDRESSES HIS MEN As I sit and gaze over the limpid waters of Aboukir Bay I think of the old-time rivalry of France and Britain, and the struggle for the possession of Egypt. In 'ninety-eight we chased the foe Right into Bouky Bay! These are the opening lines of the old sea ditty which describes how Nelson won the Battle of the Nile. Right here it was that the _Orient_--flagship of the French admiral--was blown up. And now, a hundred years after, we see French and British warships again off Alexandria. But this time the Union Jack and the Tricolour are intertwined, and in the streets of Alexandria French and British soldiers and sailors walk arm in arm, while the ancient city is gay with flags and bunting. For big things are brewing in the Levant. Before the eyes of the citizens during the past week was a unique international naval and military pageant--Zouaves, with their blue jackets and red trousers, French infantry in their blue-grey uniform, cavalry with gay tunics, British Jack Tars in blue and white, Australians in sombre khaki, swarthy-skinned Maoris from the Wonderland of the Southern Seas, and dusky warriors from the Punjab. British troops--and especially those young giants from Australia--had the better of the Frenchman in the matter of physique; but there was clear evidence of "grit" in the intelligent, humorous faces of the French, which helped one to understand why, for instance, they are said to be the finest marchers in Europe, and why the Germans never got to Paris! At last the Australian Division is on the move. After weary weeks of waiting the order has come. There were wild cheers at Mena when the news buzzed round; lusty cheering at Zeitoun when the New Zealanders heard it; more wild cheering at Heliopolis and Abassia as the message flashed further afield. Out at Mena camp there was great excitement as battalion after battalion marched away, encouraged by the cheers of their comrades behind. Trams brimming over with jubilant human freight moved off from Mena House, and glided along the well-known road to Cairo, where trains were waiting to convey the men to Alexandria. At Alexandria the transports were waiting to take us to the Dardanelles. Turkey, forgetting the traditional friendship of Great Britain, had allowed Germany to bluff her into invading Egypt. Now, in return, Britain was knocking at the front door--the impregnable front door of Constantinople.