CHAPTER TWO: A SON OF THE NILE
EPISODE NINE

On the afternoon of June 9, 1914, I was sitting in the dormitory at Gordon College, preparing for my examinations. Suddenly the mental image of my father began to dominate my thoughts. I felt that he was trying to tell me something of the utmost importance, but it was something that I was unable to understand. I grew so depressed that I put my books aside and took up the mouth organ that I was learning how to play. Without thinking, I began to play the Egyptian Army's funeral march, and, to my surprise, I played it better than anything that I had yet attempted. But I was not elated. On the contrary, I was so disconsolate that I stood up and began to walk around the dormitory. I took off my belt and slung it over my shoulder like a bandolier. I then stood before a mirror, staring at myself in silence. Presently tears began to roll down my cheeks. Some of my classmates laughed at me; others stared at me in alarm. After supper I went to the study hall and again attempted to prepare for my examinations. As the clock struck nine, I stood up and ripped the sleeves from my galabiyah, the cotton robe that most of us wore on informal occasions instead of our hot and expensive Western clothing. One of the teachers who was present asked me if I was going mad. I fled from the study hall in tears.

"What you're trying to tell me," I said, "is that my father is dead."

The secretary nodded. My father had died in the Khartuwm hospital at ten minutes past nine the night before, just ten minutes after I had ripped the sleeves from my galabiyah. I hope it will not seem superstitious if I say that I have always considered my strange behavior on that occasion a clear example of extrasensory perception. No one had told me that my father was even ill. He had died of peritonitis resulting from an inflamed appendix that had burst while he was chasing some escaping bandits. By the time he reached the hospital it was already too late to save his life, which was why I had not been taken to see him. Had he lived a few weeks longer he would have died a major rather than a captain, for his promotion had already been approved.

Mr. Hillelson offered to excuse me from my history examination, but I insisted on taking it, and, in spite of my sorrow, I managed to pass it with a high mark. Later I went to the morgue to see my father's body. I removed the shroud with which he was covered and kissed his forehead, which was surprisingly cold, although the day was very hot. I no longer felt depressed. I was merely worried now about how the rest of us were going to face the future. So far as I knew from what my mother had told me, I was my father's eldest son, and as such would be responsible for my family's welfare even though I was only fifteen, as I thought at the time, or thirteen, as I now believe.

My father left an estate consisting of twelve and a half acres of farmland in the vicinity of Nahariyah. The estate was divided according to Islamic law. One eighth, or 12.5per cent, went to my mother as his widow; one seventh of the remainder, or 12.5 per cent, to each of his four sons; and one fourteenth, or 6.25 per cent, to each of his daughters. This meant that my mother and my brothers and I, including `Abbas and Mahmuwd (who was then only six months old, each inherited a little over an acre and a half, while my sisters each inherited a little over three quarters of an acre.

My mother also received a lump sum payment of LE. 196 for the care of her nine children, plus a monthly widow's pension from the Egyptian Government of LE. 2.03 per month. The Egyptian pound in those days was worth about $5.00-almost twice its present value of $2.87

Even though`Abbas turned out to be my father's eldest son, I was obliged, as I had expected, to act as the senior male of our household. For the next fourteen years, until my mother's death in 1928, I was seldom free of financial worries. The family continued to live in Wad Midaniy while `Aliy and I continued our studies at Gordon College. The Civil Servants' Club paid the rent on our house until I was able to pay it myself out of my earnings as an officer.

Now that my father was dead, I was more deter-mined than ever to become a soldier. My teachers were equally determined that I should become a clerk. Including `Aliy, who had entered Gordon College in the autumn of 1914, there were six of us Egyptian students who had elected the teaching course. Because of our national feelings, however, it was decided not to permit us to teach school in Sudan. We were accordingly required to study typing and to work as apprentices during our vacations in one or another of the government offices in Khartuwm. Our teachers apparently hoped that we would resign ourselves to the inevitable as soon as we had grown accustomed to bureaucratic life.

But I had another plan. During my third vacation I worked as an apprentice clerk in the Welcome Tropical Research Laboratories. By saving every piaster of my wages, I was able to accumulate, with my other savings, a total of LE. 9, and with these I fled to Cairo in January 1917.

In Cairo I lived with Captain Muhammad Sa`iyd Samahah a friend of my father's, who did what he could to help me to enter the Egyptian Military Academy. Unfortunately the academic term had already begun, and CaptainSamahah was told that no more applications could be considered until the opening of the second term in April. Since I was unable to wait that long, I obtained an audience with Sultan Husayn, who promised to do what he could to help me. I also obtained an audience with General Wingate, the British High Commissioner. Wingate, who remembered both my father and my uncle `Abd al-Wahhab, instructed General Herbert, the commandant of the Military Academy, to admit me in the second term, provided I was found to be "fit for duty."

"I'm sorry," he said, but I'm afraid you're too small to be a cadet."

I was then only five feet three. The regulations, I knew, required all cadets to be at least five feet four in height. I was on the verge of tears, but I reminded Herbert with the best grace I could that I was only sixteen. My father, I added, had also been small when he was my age but he had finally achieved the proper height.

Herbert turned to his chief medical officer, a Colonel Carroll, who was standing beside him.

"What do you think?" he said, nodding in my direction.

"Ithink he'll grow," said Carroll. "Let's give him a chance.

 Herbert finally agreed to admit me to the academy on condition that I grow to be five feet four before I graduated.

(To be continued)