Chapter IX: Arabian Comedy

Nothing was happening at the front. Occasionally there was spasmodic shelling and bomb dropping, but the heat prevented any general activity. Headquarters was under howitzer fire at times. One shell landed in the mess waiter's tent and damaged nine men.

There was a tale told at the time concerning a powerful Sheik near the front who was neutral. His son becoming ill, he sent to the Turks, and also to us, for a doctor. The Turks, or rather the Germans, sent a German doctor, and a German lady as well, the latter as a bribe. We sent a medical officer, unattended. The Sheik kept them all. So far as I know he may still be keeping them, and remaining strictly neutral. It must be remembered that the Arabs--as well as many Indians--have been led to believe that not only the Kaiser is a Mohammedan, but the German people in general.

Towards the end of July there were day temperatures of 124 degrees in the shade, and the wind, when it blew, seemed as if it had passed over a burning city. It was impossible to do anything save what was absolutely necessary. The sickness amongst the medical staff became rather serious, and at times we had to look after far more cases than we could treat adequately. But in these moments of temporary dislocation, the presence of nurses made all the difference and that state of confusion that had existed in Basra never occurred.

The day's programme was unvarying. After a somewhat exhausting night we rose at seven. The best hours of sleep were usually after sunrise, for then the sand-flies vanished. After breakfast of tea, eggs and bread, the ward work started. This lasted until about midday. Then came lunch, accompanied by many flies, and afterwards a long siesta, during which one wore the minimum of clothing. At four or five one dressed again, after a bath, and took a look at the wards to see any bad cases. Then the evening began, in which life became more possible. Dinner was usually a cheerful meal. After dinner what to do was a great problem. One just did nothing. During all this time everyone became thin. Any sickness, even a slight attack of diarrhoea, brought down weight rapidly. There was the case of a certain sergeant, whose immense girth was much revered by the Arabs. One can understand, perhaps, how it comes about that fatness is admired in the East. It is so rare. It is much easier to be thin. The sergeant went into hospital for a few days. When he came out he had lost his glory even as Samson was shorn of his strength in a night. His clothes hung about him in huge folds. What had taken him years to produce was lost in six days, and with it went the respect of the Arabs. There is practically no fat in the country. There was no dripping for puddings. The cattle were all lean.

It is necessary to say a word about the Indian _personnel_ attached to the hospital. These were the water carriers, washers and sweepers. They had been immensely pleased at the idea of leaving Basra. But at Amara, where they found things little better, there was some lamentation. In temperament they were mere children requiring a father. But of one venerable and aged man I would like to record a few things. He was a gaunt, tall, grey-bearded fellow as thin as a stick-insect, and he performed the most menial of all services, being a sweeper by caste. But what he did was done with passionate devotion. He had seen service in France and spoke a few curious French words. Troops on active service in France certainly are taught some strange phrases. All day he toiled with his kerosene tins and brushes and when he had nothing to do he invented something. He would, for instance, dust the palm trees outside the mess, pausing always to salute even the shadow of an officer on the horizon in a stiff cramped fashion, and then applying himself with silent zeal to his remarkable task. He came one day in some grief and said that he had heard that his daughter in his village in India was to have married a certain man. He, the father, had contributed 100 rupees towards the cost of the ceremony. The suitor had taken the money and then announced his intention of marrying someone else. News of the fraud had reached the venerable old man in Mesopotamia and caused him to tremble with wrath. Could the great Sahib, who was his father and mother, write to the Viceroy of India and demand justice? To which the great Sahib in question, after considering the matter gravely, replied, "Write to the pig who is the son of a pig and say to him that unless he marries thy daughter before two moons have passed then will the Viceroy himself be informed by a telegram which I myself will send, and justice shall be served out in this evil matter." The joy of the old man was great and he hastened away to get the letter written. Next day he was clattering his tins and brushes with a devotion to duty that was as worthy of a medal as many things in the war. I was told the marriage was now certain to come off. Still, it seems a bad beginning to matrimony, and if a man is a pig, and the son of a pig, his children will presumably also be pigs.

There was an Arab theatre at Amara, and in September they produced a play, in Arabic. It was based on a topical incident. No Arab was allowed to go into camps, hospitals and so on, without a pass, and this was amazing to the Oriental mind. The scene was a bare stage, lit by flares, and an audience of bearded Arabs, Arab police and a few British officers in the front row. On the stage sat a fat woman mournfully shaking a tambourine, and between whiles going to sleep. Up the middle centre lay a fat man, groaning. It was evident that he was playing a sick part. Beside him lamented his wife, a dancing girl, squat-nosed and heavy hipped. The low comedian entered. It is not in the interests of the public to describe him too closely. Eventually he assumed the part of physician. His treatment of the patient followed the plan of exorcising a devil. He hit and kicked him, spat on him and jumped on him. There was no improvement and the man died. The problem was now how to bury him. The low comedian said he would attend to that and heaved the fat man on his shoulders and went off to the cemetery. After an interminable pause he reappeared still carrying the corpse. He dumped it on the ground and made a gesture of despair. "It is no good," he said. "I cannot bury him. I haven't got a pass!" This brought the house down and the fat woman woke up and applied herself vigorously to the tambourine. At the theatre at Basra, when European films were shown, the Arabs always laughed very much at the amount of kissing that white folk indulged in. It seemed to strike them as an extraordinary way of passing the time.

Arab women are not beautiful. Their faces are aquiline, their cheek bones high, and their lips coarse. Their figures are lithe and they walk well, with a sinuous swagger. But there is a sharp, harsh tone about them and one could imagine them very accomplished in bitter speeches. Their eyes are their best feature, but they contain an expression that is hard, restless and challenging. They mess themselves about with henna. Some wear nose rings and all wear bangles that clash as they walk. They were interested in the nurses and seemed for some obscure reason mildly amused. As labourers they were employed in large numbers carrying baskets of earth on their heads, or mixing mud and straw for plastering purposes. At a comparatively early age they lose whatever looks they possess and become most extraordinarily malevolent hags. The Arab men, as they age, usually look rather fine and dignified. The young Arab is not attractive. He looks heavy, sullen and sensual, and his expression is full of greed and cunning.