"To-day is the anniversary of our landing at Mombasa on May 4th, 1915. Since writing to you two days ago I have seen a good doctor, as my trouble with piles is getting bad. He says I must have an operation soon, as if I went on long hard marches now I might get into a state which would require an immediate operation or serious consequences to me might happen. He advises me strongly to go home and have the operation there, as he does not think there is a really skilful surgeon out here. In all probability, therefore, as soon as I get to the big camp at M'buyuni, I shall be again examined, and a board of medical men will recommend that I shall be given three months' leave of absence to go home and have this operation, so I may be home almost as soon as this letter. Really it does not much matter, as our battalion is played out, used up, and they will probably not find more than 300 men fit for duty, and these only fit for garrison-duty on the lines of communication. The forward movements to the Dar-es-Salaam line will I think be carried out by Smuts' mounted forces and his 1000 motor bicyclists and armoured motors, as soon as the rains are over and the country becomes possible for transport. During the rains I believe the railway will be pushed on from New Moschi towards the main German railway line. Well! good-bye again." In June, 1916, after an examination by a medical board, Selous came home to undergo an operation which was completely successful. He was only ill for twelve days and then went to his home for a short rest. In August he went out again with a draft to East Africa, going via the Cape. Both at the time Selous served with them and during his short absence, the sufferings and difficulties of our troops in this bush fighting under tropical rains and intense heat were such as to try the nerves of the strongest troops. Colonel Driscoll, who commanded the battalion of Frontiersmen, gives a vivid picture ("The Weekly Dispatch," July 21st, 1918) of the sufferings endured by the men who were so unfortunate as to be wounded. "It's very different when you get down to the plains and the bush. I don't think any words could describe that. A vast and almost impenetrable forest so thick that when an aeroplane goes up the observer sees nothing but a great green carpet below him. And wild animals, mind you, as well as wild devils to fight; the sun burning your very flesh; the flies intolerable. "Imagine a camp at night under these conditions. Round and about the lions are roaring from hunger. Hyenas prowl in the hope of snapping up a sentry or leaping in and carrying off a wounded man. I have known a man with a temperature of 105 Fahrenheit stagger up in the morning and insist upon continuing the march. It was the old spirit of my Scouts ever unquenchable.