Jan. 3. Cairo. Dearest Father. Do you realize that one of the minor evils of the sinking of the Persia is that our mail this week has gone down with her. And as I had no letters from you last week, I expected a good batch and am correspondingly disappointed. It has been an awful business. Clive Bigham, who is military secretary to Sir Henry, is one of the few survivors. He was picked up by one of the 4 boats which got away and had 30 hours in a very rough sea before they were taken on board by a mine sweeper. He got rather a bad cut on the head while he was in the water and is now in bed at the Residency. I lunched there today but I did not see him for they are keeping him as quiet as possible for a day or two. He says everyone behaved splendidly; there was not the slightest panic; the people came up from lunch and stood perfectly quiet. It was all over in 5 minutes. That's the third passenger ship in the last fortnight - it's no time for crossing the Mediterranean for pleasure. The only consolation is that they were not troop ships.
It has been raining today, quite hard for Cairo. I did not go out of my office all day, except to lunch with the MacMahons. My tribe stuff is beginning to be pulled into shape and will make quite a respectable work when it is finished - a respectable basis for further work, at any rate. I love doing it - you can't think what fun it is. In fact I have come back to it with such renewed zest that I can scarcely tear myself away from it. Yesterday, however, I went to tea with the Ronald Grahams and had an immensely long talk with him. He is of good counsel, level headed and with plenty of knowledge. They are immensely kind all these people and it is most useful to be able to draw on their knowledge and experience. I'm getting to feel quite at home as a staff officer! It's comic, isn't it. - Oh dear, I shall be glad to have news of you! Ever your very affectionate daughter Gertrude.