Baghdad Nov 15 Dearest Father. Half an hour after the mail left last week I got two letters from you, of Sep 27 and Oct 2, the last telling me of Laurie's death. I'm so very sorry. I'm afraid it will be a terrible blow to Uncle Arthur - I've just written to him. He will bear it in that dumb way of his, but he will feel it deeply. It's always for the people who are left that I have most sorrow; those who die are safe from it all. I've been thinking a great deal about him this week, but life goes on and one does the same things as usual whatever is the colour of one's thoughts. I'm anxious about Maurice, too, and shall be glad to hear that he is back with you and better for a rest. But you all sound overstrained - I don't know how you can be anything else. You know, we are out of that atmosphere here; I often feel ashamed of escaping it, but it is so. There are not the perplexities and the worries that assail you in England, and there the work is all of one kind and runs naturally along its own groove.
I have quite recovered and have polished off a lot of things that had got into arrears. We have all moved into winter quarters in the office out of dark cold rooms into sunny ones. It's strange to welcome the sun again. My room is charming, warm and comfortable, with some delightful rugs which I've bought here, on the floor and all the new maps of Mesopotamia pinned up on the walls. Maps are my passion; I like to see the world with which I'm dealing and everyone comes round to my room for geography, even Sir Percy sometimes. I've been rather social this week. The I.G.C. turned up on Sunday - that's the day after mail day - and drops in to tea every day, or for a chat after tea. I went to lunch on his ship, a pleasant party, with Col. Wilcox [i.e. Willcox] and General Stewart Wortley, a cousin of Caroline's, who came out Adjutant General some 6 weeks ago. He has met you by the way - he's Dick Stewart Wortley, if that recalls him to you. Very nice; I hope I shall more of him [sic]. He came to tea with us the same day - Sir Percy had asked him, to make my acquaintance, but that was already made. On Tuesday I dined with the C. in C. to meet an American journalist lady, Mrs Egan, who was staying with him. Lord knows what she has come for, but she seems to know her way about most of the universe in a mildly interesting way. It was perishingly cold, stone floors, doors and windows open and an ice blast in all our backs. I didn't mind, for I had put on all the smart clothes I had got, over on top of the others, a fur over them; but Mrs E. who is a lady of very ample proportions, was richly décolletée and presented acres of neck and arms getting gradually bluer. It's rather an icy performance anyhow, a dinner at H.Q., for Sir S.M. [Stanley Maude] though most polite, is a dull dog and that's the truth. However, I had never been before and I thought it all rather laughable. The next night everyone attended a performance at the Alliance Israelite school. It began at 8 and we left it in full swing at 11.30 - perhaps it's going on still. You will form some idea of its proportions when I tell you that the Malade Imaginaire was the 7th item of the programme and Hamlet (I believe in extenso, but we didn't wait for it) the 9th. The less ambitious numbers were the nicest, especially the performances of the littlest children who were darlings. Sir Percy and I dined first at the Club with Mr Garbett (1st Revenue Officer) and an immense party, including the I.G.C. and other generals and lesser personages. But for it's being much too long an evening it was very pleasant and I'm now going to cultivate the Jew community - there are 80,000 in Baghdad out of a pop. of 200,000 - and find out more about them. So far I've only met the bigwigs, such as the Chief Rabbi. There's no doubt they'll be a great power here some day. The day after tomorrow I'm really going to Samarra - my 3rd visit so to speak. Sir A. Cobbe telegraphed to me asking me to come and I found that the I.G.C. was going up on Saturday so I arranged to go luxuriously with him. Mrs Egan is also to come - by command - which rather bores me because we should have have had such a nice evening all together in intimacy with Sir A.C. but we can't be so outspoken with a visitor. Still it doesn't matter much. I shall stay the inside of a week and I'm looking forward to seeing Richard.

War news looks better. The Italians seem to be coming to something more like a stand and Syria is splendid. I hope George is all right but I think I should have heard from Egypt if anything had happened to him. We had a moment of dismay when the Maximalist Govt. came in at Petrograd [Sankt-Peterburg (Saint Petersburg, Leningrad)] but after a week of revolutions I don't feel as if anything that happened there were sufficiently stable to be alarming. To return to the parcel post - no restraints affect members of the Force, but you must make it clear that I am a member of the Force and my unit is the Political Office. Parcels haven't reached me lately, but they often take 3 months and sometimes more, so I live in hopes.