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Should be off
June 21st!

John L. Hopkins Esq.

c/o Lubbock

Gli Scafari

Lerici

Italia

Dear John,

A quick note outside the fumes of the hospital. You sound as if you have the most terrific trip lined up and do I envy you! I’m only afraid that I can’t think of anyone I know who hasn’t been turfed out of the regions you are traveling through—even the tarts!

I do think you must find out where and when the wet seasons are from local authorities. When it rains in the desert, there is no desert, only a lake. All I could give you would be “hearsay,” and like everything in Africa that is most controversial.

I will scrounge around among the old Sudanese “hands” and see what they have to say. I do know very positively that the South Sudanese were the most loyal to the British, but most chopped a few years ago, by the north who massacred them most thoroughly. I was in the north of Uganda at the time and saw the remnants trickle down. But, once in the south, if you say you are coming down to visit a British Officer and aren’t stoned to death at once, you’re liable to find an old, venerable Sergeant Major, etc., who will come forth and welcome you with pathetic enthusiasm (I was a Gunner Major, if that’s any help) and you must give him a cup of tea, etc., with you, which will uphold his self-respect.

I have no right to ask it, but any “old soldiers” that you meet, if you could be most polite to them—just respectful as equals, etc. I think you would do a sad world a hell of a lot of good. There are so many who wait for the return of the British Raj, and by gosh are they gents.

The “Effendi” type you must sort out for yourselves, but the old gent in a blanket and not much else who shuffles in and salutes you, is not just a hanger on but maybe one of the lads who stood firm next to a young Churchill in the long ago Omdurman campaign.

I’m afraid I’m most prejudiced on the “South” Sudanese, and some day I’ll tell you why.

When you hit us, again I can be of no help but, I’ve given your name to the Coldstream Guards who are “around and about” and any and all of them know me. The next Regiment are the S.A.S.—Special Airborne Service whom I know from Colonel “John Slim” to the privates. John’s father is Field Marshal Said Slim and they are “ready, willing, and able.” You could always find a welcome there.

The Royal Horse Artillery—I have a few friends there, but not many. I’d lean on the Coldstream and perhaps the King’s African Rifles but I wouldn’t choose the latter.

SOME RANDOM SUGGESTIONS

I. As you probably know, the Sudan is having a terrific and major epidemic of polio—so I’d certainly get whatever inoculation is going completed at once.

II. There is also a major epidemic of spinal meningitis—500 dying a week, for what that is worth. (This is the Sudan.)

III. Carry some very potent “anti-diarrhea” medicine as everyone gets “African tummy”—also something for dysentery.

IV. Religiously take anti-malaria prophylaxis. (Can’t spell for beans.)

V. Don’t swim in the Nile as it’s full of bilharzia (a liver fluke)—also crocs who swipe you into the water with their tail if you stand on the edge of the bank as well as thump you in the water.

VI. Have cholera shots (inoculations) as I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see it break out with all these other epidemics.

VII. As of yesterday—June 17—Uganda and Kenya have closed the Karamojong—top province—north in British East Africa (over 6,000 head of cattle stolen, and a couple of hundred people killed in the last few months)—so you’ll have to do that bit by riverboat which is really very nice.

VIII. I’ve asked the Royal Automobile Club for a reverse route from here and will forward you the data (as far as Egypt) for what that is worth. At least you can correlate the issue a bit.

IX. If you have any heavy luggage you want to send out, I can put it through the Customs in Nairobi and bring it up and store it here. I have a guest cottage with a couple of bedrooms, bath, and a separate living room of sorts to which I’ll give you the key, and you can come and go as you please, and store anything there for as long as you’re out here. Have your food with me as I have a good garden and all sorts of game, birds, and of course beef, etc. Just use it as a hotel. Actually whenever you want some spare cash it should be fairly easy to get a temporary job.

X. “Bird dogging” on various people’s ranches. The pay wouldn’t be enormous, but it would be “all found,” and you wouldn’t have to know anything about farming. Lots of people often want an extra man on the place for a month or so.

The roads from here to South Africa are very good (for Africa) so you could always hell off there when you’ve nothing better to do—see the Rhodesias, etc.

This has been written on my knee all over the lot, and the English is vile. The writing worse (most seems to have been my favorite word). We’ve had a gay week—raided last Monday and four steers whipped. I’m still tied to the gharry but manage to get all over the farm. The bastards were too sharp for us and slipped over the border. Then on Wednesday a couple of lads took off from Nanyuki in a light plane, and the whole countryside started a search and it went on till Saturday. I started carrying medicines and bandages and ended up with a shovel, but at noon on Sat. they strolled into Nanyuki having pranged on Mount Kenya, and walked out—a pretty good effort. I was quartering this place in the Land Rover with an R.A.F. plane over me, and he started to “dive bomb” me, wig-wag, etc., and I first decided that he was mad or drunk, and then I realized he was doing everything a twin-engine job could do to sheepdog me home where I get the news that my fattest stock had been attacked by raiders, so off I went, and am sitting in the bush writing this on the bonnet of the gharry.

No real local news—a great “oath taking” about 50 miles away from me in the forest. You undoubtedly read of the shocking murder of Mrs. Osborne. Zanzibar was a great do, and still simmering as is the whole Coast Province. Went to the Queen’s Birthday Parade at Government House in Nairobi which was most impressive as well as sad—tears streaming down people’s faces men and women alike—as it is probably the last. Armyworms have eaten all the maize and grass, and we are in for a real disaster—last year’s famine will be child’s play. I’m wearily replanting all over again. The drought has not broken as the “long rains” failed—three years now. So, you are coming to a jolly place. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you. If it is raining in Uganda as you approach here and the roads are bad, I’ll drive over and pick you and White Nile up.

If you get to Kitale look up Frank and Tania Waldron (she’s a White Russian out of Bronxville, N.Y.).

Also there is a hell of a nice little pub on the top of the airport at Khartoum—not open to transient air passengers but you could bull your way in.

At all events, I’ll expect you here for Christmas anyway, and will pen up the turkey now.

The local Turkana put on one of a hell of a fine Ngona, and it’s a pretty good holiday season in the neighborhood—if you can stand the pace. I have a horse, D.V., running in the Kenya Grand National on Boxing Day (day after C.) and there are all sorts of other fun and games—so don’t “get caught in a pub” up country.

Keep me posted on your next address so I can be one jump ahead of you. Won’t register this as might freeze it.

Cheers and God bless,

Sam S.

Give my love to those gorgeous popsies in Rome!!!