n was over.

One often wonders at this constant habit of official inspections, when
an unofficial inspection, made by an able man who strolled in
unannounced, would be so much more intelligent and valuable. It is
almost painful to witness the preparation that goes on before an
official visit. There is a suggestion of something archaic, something
inferior to the spirit of life, in the whole process; as if one were not
an actively employed hospital, up to the neck in honest work, but merely
a passive model on a large scale, in which everything was always in
symmetrical rows, in which the patients were accustomed to be exactly
parallel to the edges of their beds, in which everyone preferred to
stand to attention if they could do so without dying. It was as if all
the rough strong machinery of the place never went at full speed, but
was carefully painted and polished until it looked like a musical box
without a soul or a purpose.

These inspections were incessant and entirely suspended the work of the
hospital while they lasted. When they occurred in the morning, it was
necessary to hurry through the usual work, get everything cleaned up,
assume full uniform, take all books, papers and games from the patients,
and wait patiently for the arrival of the inspecting party. As often as
not a message would come after a long delay, to say that the inspection
would be postponed until a later hour.

During September one of the native interpreters came into the venereal
tent as a patient. At the time it was under my care. There was, by the
way, very little venereal disease amongst the troops, though, of course,
the country is full of it. He was a little olive Jewish boy, alert in
manner, and muscular, and a good linguist. When war broke out he was
living in Baghdad, where he had learned French and English at one of the
Mission Schools there, for he was a Christian. When Turkey came in, he
fled from Baghdad with many others who wished to avoid conscription. He
travelled down the river to Basra. He described the journey as very bad,
with little food and a constant fear of being caught. On reaching Basra
he heard rumours of our coming expedition, but the most extreme apathy
existed in the town. The Turks were indifferent, walking about smoking
cigarettes and "making the shoulders to rise a leetle" as they talked.
But they kept a watchful eye on the Arabs. When the Turks evacuated
Basra a panic ensued. He was living at the time in a me