Baghdad Dec 16 Dearest Father. Your letter of Nov. 3: Don't be later here than the middle of March - that means you had better leave about Feb 8 if possible. If however you come by a through boat to Basrah [Basrah, Al (Basra)] the journey takes less long, but it would amuse you to go by Bombay and stay with George and Blanche. I don't think I shall be able to meet you further away than Basrah, but we'll see when the time comes. You must bring a camp bed with bedding, all done up in a Wolsey valise. As for clothes: I can't tell you what it's like in Bombay in March, but someone at the India Office ought to be able to do so. It's usually delicious here at that time, temp rising towards 70 at midday, but we sometimes have rain which means that it would be colder. In mid April you may expect 80° or upwards. You are most likely to want here lightish woollen clothes or flannel, but a silk suit or two would not be amiss. A topee you must have and I advise a sun umbrella. It all depends on how things are going in Syria whether you can return that way. No one can tell - at this moment it would be impossible. On the other hand you could at this moment go by motor to the Caspian and go back that way, but who can predict how affairs may turn out in the Caucasus [Bol'shoy Kavkaz] - that's the crux. I'll tell you one thing, if anyone can get you through Syria, I can. I would telegraph to Faisal or Zaid and say you're coming and I would take you to Aleppo [Halab]. But if there's civil war there - as is possible but I think unlikely - why then no one can do anything. I am sorry you don't seem to have received the enormous letter I wrote from Damascus [Dimashq (Esh Sham, Damas)]. However a good deal of it is in my report. I've had somehow rather a difficult week. First of all Allah Ta'ala afflicted me with a pain in my inside, but he has now taken it away. Next, the Powers that be (on earth) got across the Sunni Vatican, and they all tumbled in on me. It was very embarrassing because of course it's not my business and I'm always so dreadfully afraid (a) of misleading my visitors and (b) of annoying my colleagues whose job it is. If the latter weren't such angels (b) would be inevitable. It wouldn't have happened, I think, if Mr Bonham Carter hadn't been away for a fortnight, but he was. First the Naqib sent round his son with a very special warning. The next morning the door of my office opened and the room was filled with white turbaned Sunni divines. I listened and begged them to betake themselves to Capt. Cooke the Director of Pious Bequests, but no, they wouldn't go to Cuke - if he wanted them he must send for him. In a way they were in the right, though I knew that particular lot would be always out to make trouble. If I hadn't been so bothered, I could have laughed to find myself set up as an arbitor of a religious administration. However, all has turned out well, inshallah. I sent for dear Cuke and after begging him to box my ears expounded the matter and he went straight to the Naqib to put things right. Meantime Mr Bonham Carter, wisest of men, has returned, thank Heaven, and I've got full absolution from him. What they (i.e. he) were doing was, I am convinced, perfectly right, but by a series of accidents it hadn't been properly explained. And when that kind of thing happens they, the Baghdadis, always let off steam by coming to me. Next, something much more irreparable has happened: my dear Musa Pachahji died suddenly two nights ago. With the Naqib and one other notable (dead since I went on leave and a terrible loss) Musa was my oldest friend here. The garden I live in belongs to him, but it wasn't only unvaryingly affectionate kindness I got from him, but a very frank and valuable appreciation of politics. He was fearless and outspoken, had no axe to grind and I could go to him for information and advice as I could go to no one. He was in my office one morning at the beginning of the week and we had a long and delightful talk - that was the last time I saw him. His wife and daughter, also great friends, came to tea next day. Oh dear, I do grieve for him - Baghdad isn't the same without him and that other - Abdul Rahman Jamil. I went to see the women folk this evening. Death can't be stripped here of its terrors for the living. Musa was already buried, but the wife and daughter, with all their female relatives were sitting round the room, wailing and screaming and beating their breasts. They do that for a week. The two bereaved ladies had their heads and faces covered - you recognized them by the fact that they were screaming the loudest. When the hubbub had subsided a little I talked to them about Musa and the loss he is to all of us, and gradually they quieted. I begged the wife to go to bed tonight and to take some aspirin, which I would send her. She promised she would for my sake and I hope that what with 36 hours' wailing and exhaustion combined with the aspirin she will sleep. Frank and I had been down in the afternoon to see one of the sons of the Naqib, recently returned from C'ple [Istanbul (Constantinople)] where he was all through the war. He lives in a lovely garden Bellow Baghdad - we rode out. I believe he's very pro-Turkish but he is - why shouldn't he be? - the most charming man. He is a great horticulturalist, but specially knowledgeable about trees and explained to us most interesting things about the habits and growth of palm trees. Saiyid Muhi ud Din is his name; I'm going to see him again and learn more about palms - I've never seen such trees as he has there - and I told him I would take you when you came. He will be much honoured. Sir George came back today with his wife and I've been to tea with her. She wasn't as portentous as I expected, but then the standard isn't the same here as in London. She was very friendly but I didn't stay long as she had only just arrived and I left her to unpack. We are in the middle of a very difficult situation which you will see in the papers - the seizing of Dair al Zor [Dayr az Zawr] on the Euphrates by an Arab force. We don't yet know the rights of it, there are 3 possible explanations: A. It may be a Turkish move entirely unknown to the Arab Govt. in Damascus. B. Or known to them but they were unable to take any steps to prevent it or warn us. C. Or deliberately planned by them and the Turks. Of these the second B. seems to me the most likely, and C. the most unlikely. All our own officers are safe but my heart aches for the native men who have loyally served us, such as the Mayor of Dair with whom I dined when I passed through. They are now captive. We are pretty sure the Turks are in it but we hear of people, Arabs, who fought against us here and fled to Turkey, who are now in this business. I dined last night with the Tods. He is the manager of Lynch Bros (now combined with Inchcape) and she is a very charming little Italian lady. I stayed with them here in 1914 and I like them both very much. She has just come out - I'm so glad to have her, for I feel she is a real friend. Darling, I must stop. I hope your ear is better. Your ever affectionate daughter Gertrude y congratulations to Mother on her election to the Joint Council of the Red X - most suitable.