My Darling Cecily,

Your letter has arrived today lifting my spirits that now soar on the
dry wind that scurries playfully around our camp. I am lost in you and
in our great and fair England.

News of our engagement arrangements have filled me with wonder, and not
a little trepidation.  Are we really to meet her Majesty? From your
carefully ordered invite list it seems that most of Society will be
present. My only observation is that placing Lady Phylis Carthedew on
the same table as Oliver Fortmund is liable to lead at best to scandle,
and at worst impromptu light opera. Otherwise a masterly arrangement.

I am enthralled by your own desperate adventures in tackling dangerous
trades regulations for women. Your struggle is every bit as epic as
mine, and I now understand clearly why you have found it so difficult to
find the time to write. I have only to face the fuzzy wuzzy, you the
Industrial Moghul, recently personified by the unscrupulous Henry
Smackworth. Assure me that during your recent necessary encounters with
him, that politeness has not driven you to tasting his crusty meat pies.
The stories of their provenance may be simple barrack room banter; I
worry nevertheless.

It seems then that Smackworth was well named. I predict that it will be
some time before he recovers from his encounter with Aunt Amelia. Does
she continue to use her beguiling charade as the absent minded
horticulturalist? It is with incisive speed that she ensnares the
unsuspecting and gulible, commanding an efficiency of voice and movement
that leaves her prey confounded and lost. Were that not enough I attest
that there is no more fearsome right hook in all of christendom, she
being, I am reliably told, an inspiration to Polly Fairclough and her
devilish troupe of boxing ladies. There are undoubtedly lessons here
that I should apply in my battles with the excitable natives in this far
away and divinely blessed land.

Ah yes, you will be unsurprised to learn that I have been most fortunate
to receive a letter from our beloved Reverend Herrup (SEE BELOW). His uncomplicated
morality and incisive wisdom have from my soul wiped the black scruples,
here reconciled my thoughts to the truth and honour of our endeavours in
Sudistan. I am particularly fortunate to receive a personaly signed copy
of his recently published tome 'The Hidden Joys of Leviticus'. Within
hours it has been variously quoted in our mess hall to uproarious
effect. I now put my faith in the great Referee who guides our every
fate and understands every roll of the die.

My most recent outing with the company saw us successfully engage our
now familiar enemy at the incongruosuly named Dolligrip. It devolved
into a simple fire fight with our rifles and brave spirits thwarting our
foe at every turn. I would particularly mention young Lieutenant
McGeorge Boniface Strolling, whose reckless desire to rush and engage
the enemy, at once alarmed and reminded me of my early command. He
probably should be in the cavalry and predict he will either go far or
die young. We were graced with the presence of the incomprehensible
Jehangir Pathik, whose Kedgeree lancers proved so effective screening
our force on the day. The marked contrast was sobering with the all too
comprehensible and now sadly departed Fitzdashing.

I greet today as a time of great optimism, of orderly lists, and potent
ritual. The planning for our engagement fills me with delight, and the
Pentateuch has never brought our Regiment such warmly received pleasure.
The Law of Sacrifice indeed.

I must now yield to the call of duty. I have everything now to live for,
and with that I will leave you until our next letters and my joyful
return to England.

With love,

Your Mo

Maurice StJohn Eager
B Company

To: Captain Maurice St John Eager
From: Reverend Herrup, Lower Budworth
 
Dear Capt. St John Eager,
 
It seems like only yesterday you were spreading cream on my wife's muffins and letting my Aunt win at croquet.  Can it really be two years since that Garden Fete?  (When you return I do hope you will honour us by judging the jam on the produces stall.)  Now there you are in Sudistan, fighting the good fight to banish slavery.
 
I have been following your progress and I must say you are an example to us all.  Maybe sometimes, however, you may wonder if you will win the good fight, but take strength.  The land may be full of Mohammedans and fuzzy wuzzies, but Sudistan is not forsaken by God.  The Upper Budworth Bugle recently published my letter on this subject.  I also took the subject as a theme for last Sunday's sermon.  I enclose a copy which I hope you will take comfort from.  I plan to include it in a small collection of my favourite sermons, which I intend to publish one day.
 
If I might extend some advice to you.  You may feel that you are just a piece in a game, as if your fate might be decided by the roll of a die or the draw of a card.  Do not believe this.  Put your faith in the great Referee who sees all we do and adjudicates our actions.  He has a plan for us all in the great scheme of things.
 
Psalm 68:31 - Envoys will come from Egypt; Cush will submit herself to God.
 
Yours sincerely
 
Rev R Herrup