Baghdad June 27 Dearest Father. I've got your letter from Egypt - you do seem to take a long time getting home, to be sure! But I reckon that the mail after next ought to bring your first letter from London. I'm sure the Red Sea was horrid - I've been in it in May myself with Maurice. But we hadn't so many Rajahs on board as you had - did you collect many invitations to stay, bless you? I haven't made my plans for myself yet. Frank is going in July, to be married and to come back with Sir Percy as his second in command. I'm sure that's a good plan, but it will leave us rather short handed here. Things are quieting down and there's a promising scheme in the wind, which I shall probably be able to tell you about next week. But in this flux there's no doubt that they turn to us. Abdul Majid Shawi, for instance, the old brick of a mayor, constantly drops in while I'm having breakfast, just to talk things over with the Khatun! There's no particular point in it except that he likes it. Yesterday he said that he much regretted Frank's going on leave. "But after all, you'll be here to tell Major Bullard who people are and what they're worth." (Major Bullard is to take over while Frank's away.) That sort of remark makes it rather difficult to go away, doesn't it. I do rather hanker after my visit to George and Blanche, however we'll see how things develop. Meantime I'm very well though the temp. is up to its summer 115°. I rode out this morning (Sunday) to see Haji Naji and found him in a great state of mind. I ought to have gone to see him before. He has had a horrible time all through Ramadhan for the extremists have been pressing him with threats and abuse to join in the agitation and he has stoutly refused to do so. "I don't sleep at night" he said "I put watchmen round my house, for here I am all alone and far away from you and those dogs sons of dogs might do anything. And then you didn't come and see me." We sat in the arbour by his house while I eat apples and melon and he overflowed with talk. I promised him I would come constantly and that it would be all right - people are beginning to regain their senses. Some real rogues at Karbala and Hillah [Hillah, Al] have been arrested and I think that has done good too. It's an amazing thing about the Arab that he can always, or nearly always (Haji Naji and 'Abdul Majid are exceptions) be frightened into anything. Most of the people who went to the meetings in Ramadhan didn't want to go and I'm pretty sure that 90% of the Sunnis loathe rubbing shoulders with the Shi'ahs, and vice versa. Yet when someone talks loud even when they don't agree they don't dare to contradict. The thing now is to provide for them a bridge by which they can come back into a reasonable path, and that's what I hope we may be able to do. You see, we're prepared to give them all they really want, and they know it. And yet I sometimes ask myself whether if we hadn't had these rows we should have been prepared to go as far as we ought to go? And there I'm left wondering. What makes me furious is the rot that's served up to the British public about us. There was a letter from Sir G. Buchanan in the Times the other day which was from end to end the purest trash. Anything Sir G.B. writes is likely to be trash but the public doesn't know what a conceited and ignorant ass he is. I've drafted a reply at AT [Wilson]'s request, which I hope will be sent through the Times correspondent here. These things ought always to be answered and it's very wrong of the India Office not to do so, or not to tell us to do so. Meantime we've come to the conclusion that my report must be got out as soon as possible and Sir Percy has taken the first half home with him. He shall have a lot more this week, and there's now only half an administrative chapter and the last political chapter to finish. The last I should like to keep by me for another month by which time I may have got something satisfactory to end on. But we must publish something to show what the work here has been, and please will you do as much propaganda as you can. By the way you'll observe that my relations with AT are "hardly different to ordinary." In fact butter won't melt in his mouth. But I never go into his room, because I won't risk finding him in a black rage about nothing, so he has to come to mine when he wants things, and as he wants a good many things he has to come pretty often. And I laugh in my inside, for it's my trick, isn't it. In fact I think it's my rubber. I dined with the Bowmans last week, otherwise I haven't done much. People come in to see me a good deal after tea, mostly Arabs, sometimes Sir Edgar or other of the elect. Aurelia Tod has hired a palm garden just outside the town on the river, and she has made a tennis court there where people come and play. Sometimes she picks me up in her motor about 5.30 and I go and sit there for an hour. But I don't much like being out in the evenings, it's so hot, the world gasping after the day's sun. The only pleasant time is before breakfast. Rish threw himself into a barbed wire fence today and has an awful gash in his chest. Marie and I have bathed it but he is very sorry for himself. And Najmah is busy saying "You shee [sic] I don't do that" like Elsa aforetime. Now I had better get on with my report. June 29. [29 June 1920] Rish woke me very early by crying because his wound hurt him so I had to get up and bandage him. He's quiet now, but it's very bad and it makes me very unhappy to see him. The kind Capt. Braham came in and bandaged him on Sunday afternoon. Oh I do hope it will get well. There's a beautifully cool north wind this morning - almost too much of it, for it blew my mosquito net about my ears. The Bowmans dined with me last night, with Capt. Clayton and Mr Bullard. I had asked Miss Wheatley too - you remember she came to lunch - but she didn't turn up, motor trouble I expect. It was a very pleasant party, however. I like the Bowmans so much. Goodbye dearest - don't forget to go on loving me. Your daughter Gertrude