The natives all wear the white nightshirt affair and a turban, a few wear shoes, but those are the wealthy ones, The night life in Khartoum consists of 3 fair night clubs, they are manned ~ femininely speaking, by Hungarian refugees who act as hostesses. However, they only dance and drink with us; at 11 o'clock they close everything and the hostesses become mistresses of the civil officials.
“T'would take a week to get on the “in" - some of the boys will certainly take it up if we are here long enough. The drinks here are poor - Scotch and soda is the only possibility; they serve brandy for bourbon and some native version of rum. The gin is fair, but the mixings are quite tasteless as are most of the soft drinks here of which there exists ginger beer, a strong version of ginger-ale; lemonade, a tasteless soda water; orange soda, similar to the lemonade. The music of these night spots is furnished by the British troops here- oddly enough, all the music of this country is the jazz of America, possibly because the Americans frequent such places more than others. There is a wicked "kootch" dancer at Gordon's Music Hall. Some of the boys took her home the other night only to be rebuffed by a polite good-night and friendly hand-shake. Oh but give the Air Corps a little more time. There are peddlers all over the streets selling bone for ivory, and painted mahog- any for pure ebony. The Almighty Dollar has been installed in the minds and speech of the natives - all prices for any trinket starts at “fo dollar" and winds up a few piastres (about a nickel). When we go to town, we must ride a crowded, rather quiet camp bus.