[15 July 1916] G.H.Q. Basrah [Basrah, Al (Basra)] July 15 Dearest step-mother and father. The post has been very generous lately. Since I wrote I've had had Father's letters of the May 31, June 1, 4th and 14th - I'm not sure I haven't already answered May 31 - and Mother's of May 31 and June 7 and 12th. So at last I'm up to date in your correspondence. I'm thankful M. [Maurice] has gone to Bedford and so glad about the C.M.G. I'm writing to him. The telegram about the photograph I've already answered to Father. The taking of all our men makes me realize what conscription means. I hope indeed that Dennington Crozier and George will be let off. I don't know what you would do without the first and last. Marie seems to have settled the moot point. I'm very sorry I must say. It will be hateful beginning with a new maid. I hope she made my nightgowns first! and that Mother's sense of economy did not prevent her from having them made of crepe de chine. Till you've lived in a climate like this you don't know what it means, nor how one would pay their weight in gold for any alternatives - there aren't many to be had. Last night I woke at 1 AM to find the temp. still over 100 and myself lying in a pool. My silk nightgown goes into the bath with me in the morning, is wrung out and needs no more bother. Yes, it has been deuced hot, and will be for another 6 weeks at least. I'm all right, but it's trying, there's no denying it. It's the first hours of the night, absolutely still, damp and close which I find the worst. But sometimes I think it's pretty horrid to be wet through all day. It's uncommonly difficult to tackle one's clothes! I send Mother my deep admiration for all her achievements - the holiday harvesters are fine. Don't forget, Father, to let me have your paper on Trade Unions. I've always time and the greatest interest for your observations on these matters. But I don't think you can argue Free Trade now on its economic merits - there's bound to be too much passion in the whole question now and for some time to come. Perhaps some day the world will come back to common sense. It won't be yet. I must tell you in confidence that I'm being useful here, more useful than I could be anywhere else because I've got better qualifications for this sort of job than for any. It's not of a worldshaking character, but for all that it's worth doing and it would not be done if I didn't stay. That's what holds me up every now and then when I think the nights and days really almost too disagreeable - I don't often think it, mostly I'm too much absorbed in what I'm doing to pay any attention. I'm going to be rather desperately solitary next month. George will be gone, Mr Dobbs is going on leave, Mrs van Ess, who has been ill for the last 2 months, to India for a change and her husband to Nasiriyah [Nasiriyah, An] and elsewhere for a month to see about schools. That sweeps away nearly all my circle at one stroke, but General McMunn remains and I find him a great standby and a mighty comfort. One must have someone to talk to à coeur ouvert and he is always ready to lend a hand and a very effective one, what's more. There are times when one gets into a sort of impasse, a helpless feeling that there's so much to be pulled straight in human affairs and so little pulling power; why then it's good to be able to talk it out. One ends by seeing things in a juster perspective and one's own small share in them becomes easier. One permanent source of satisfaction is my chief, Sir Percy Cox . He is so delightful to work with, so generous to me about all I want to do and so kindly appreciative. I have a very real affection for him. But he is taking on too much, more than any mortal man could accomplish and though it's wonderful how evenly good his health is - he's never off for so much as a day's fever - I'm always afraid that he may break down under it. And after Mr Dobbs goes there'll be no one capable of taking his place. I'm going to send Mr Dobbs to you. I'm sure you'll like to see him - I don't think you have met him? His work here has been beyond praise, statemanlike - wise, understanding and patient. The administration here owes him a very great deal. Upon my soul it's a comfort to come up against real sound good sense combined with administrative capacity. One needs it in a country of this kind which is all beginnings. The real difficulty under which we labour here is that we don't know, and I suppose can't know till the end of the war, exactly what we intend to do in this country. You are continually confronted with that uncertainty. Can you persuade people to take your side when you are not sure in the end whether you'll be there to take theirs? No wonder they hesitate - I don't blame them. And it would take a good deal of potent persuasion to make them think that your side and theirs are compatible. The elements of prevailing persuasiveness are denied to us. And so we just make the best of things, say what we can - and don't do very much. We didn't succeed in roping in Ibn Rashid. Everything that could be done was done; he was forgiven 70 times 7 times, but he wouldn't listen to our piping. He's no peril, but I'm sorry to have another enemy - must we be up against more people and more and more? We don't want to fight desert Arabs - well, we haven't done it so far, but only because he is not strong enough to attack us. The will's there. He's ignorant and foolish beyond belief; I hope the Shammar will cut the knot for themselves before long and set up another Amir. It's not improbable; they know him for the mad weakling he is.
But it's not the immediate war problems here I think of most - they're impermanent; it's the problem after the war, and I don't know what sort of hand we shall be able to take in solving them. However there's no harm in thinking about them and that's what I do. Write, too; I've plenty of official openings for that.

I'm so sorry about Gerald Spring Rice - I must manage to write to Springy. One has no time, you know. One's at it all day and the evenings are too hot for letter writing.

Goodbye, and bless you both. I'm glad you both think I ought to stick to it. That's what I think. Your very affectionate daughter Gertrude.