I was only on the inside, looking outward as
it were; the fellows on the outside, looking in, would naturally give a
different explanation.
Then you must bear in mind that this is a day of "official" accounts
that would make a limping dog of Ananias. When the General Staff of an
invading army controls all the wires and all lines of communication you
may believe what they choose to tell you, if you wish. But you don't
have to, as they say in Maine. And I admit that all I saw was from a
curtained auto as we swayed and bumped over broken roads, with an
occasional interlude when Jeremy and I got out to lend our shoulders and
help the Arab driver heave the car out of a slough.
My clearest memory is of that Arab--silent, stolid, staring like an owl
straight forward most of the time--but a perfect marvel in emergencies,
when he would suddenly spring to life, swear a living streak of
brimstone blasphemy in high falsetto, and perform a driver's miracle.
By two flours after midnight we were running on four flat tires; and
I've got the name of the maker of those wheels for future reference and
use. One spring broke, but we went forward sailor-fashion, with a jury-
rig of chain and rope, after getting more gas from some Christian monks,
who swore they hadn't any and wept when one of Feisul's officers
demonstrated that they lead.
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