The Navy were very nice about it. They were just as sorry as we, they
said. The gunner had been put under observation as a criminal lunatic,
we understood. But they had just come from Zanzibar, and every one knows
that all good things are to be found in that isle of clover. All the
excuses in the world won't give us back our promised beer again.




THE ANGEL OF MOROGORO


Standing on the river bridge that crossed the main road into Morogoro
was a slender figure in the white uniform of a nursing sister. In one
hand a tiny Union Jack, in the other a white flag.

"Don't shoot," she cried, "I'm an Englishwoman;" and the bearded South
African troopers, who were reconnoitring the approaches to their town,
stopped and smiled down upon her. "Take this letter to General Smuts,
please; it is from the German General von Lettow;" and handing it to one
of them, she shook hands with the other and told him how she had been
waiting for two years for him to come and release her from her prison.
For this nursing sister had been behind prison bars for two years in
German East Africa, and you may imagine how she had longed for the day
when the English would come and set her free.

This was Sister Mabel, the only nursing sister we had in Morogoro for
the first four months of our occupation. Her memory lives in the hearts
of hundreds of our wretched soldiers, who were brought with malaria or