“Yes, this is very well, but the essential thing is an identification passport. Where is it?”
I showed him the Foreign Office passport, which also interested the Kurds round about.
“This,” he said, “is not a passport, it is merely a permit from your Government to travel.”
“Well,” I said, “can you read it?” a remark that elicited guffaws from the listeners.
“No,” he answered, “of course I cannot.”
“Then,” I said, “you must either take my word or suspend the enquiry, you cannot blame me because you do not know English. I have stated that I am a British subject, and there is my British passport, with the visé of the Turkish Consul in London on the back, and there is my name, ‘Ghulam Husain,’ upon it,” and I pointed to where my own name was written in English.
“Well, that may be,” he said; “but yet it is not the personal passport such as we all carry, and which is essential for identification.”
“Such a document,” I said, “is before you.”
Somewhat annoyed, he broke out:
“No! no! it is not, this is a travelling passport; where is the passport you were given when you had completed your time in the army?”