At noon on Saturday 19th of August 1882, the first of nine British warships weighed anchor and steamed slowly out of Alexandria’s Western Harbour. Smoke rose from each funnel, and the ratings worked like cogs in an efficient machine. Jack had a vision of white-trousered, blue-jacketed men in straw hats working at top speed without complaint or hesitation. As the leading ships left the harbour, the Egyptian guard ship played a march to help them on their way, maybe glad to be rid of such powerful neighbours. Immediately the warships left, nineteen troop transports followed one after the other, with their screws churning the water and their wake causing surf to break against the shore.
“Where are we headed, sir?” Baxter asked. “Eastward, I see.”
“I’m damned if I know,” Jack said. “General
