Its members were devoted to their Anglo-Bedouin shereef; but to guard against the possibility of a conspiracy among them, never more than two men were selected from each tribe, so that intertribal jealousy might prevent any group from plotting against their leader. Nearly every man in the Hedjaz army wanted to belong to the body-guard, because Lawrence took it on all of his raiding, bridge-blowing, and train-wrecking expeditions, “stunts” which provided much loot and many thrills—gifts dear to the heart of the Bedouin. Then, too, the pay was greater than that given to any of the other volunteers in the Arabian army. Furthermore, they received a liberal allowance for costly raiment, for they spent all their money on clothes, and when gathered in a body they produced an effect similar to that of an Oriental flower-garden.
A familiar saying among them was that they might as well spend their gold on clothes and a good time, since Allah might take them to paradise at any moment. Among Colonel Lawrence’s personal retinue the percentage of casualties was far greater than among other regulars and irregulars of Feisal’s army, for they were continually being sent across the desert on dangerous missions. Frequently they were despatched through the Turkish lines to act as spies, a service for which the body-guard was especially suitable, since it contained at least one man from each district between Mecca and Aleppo. Lawrence always arrogated to himself more than his full share of these hazardous missions.
To accompany Lawrence and his body-guard on an expedition was a fantastic experience. First rode the young shereef, incongruously picturesque with his Anglo-Saxon face, gorgeous head-dress, and beautiful robes. Likely enough, if the party were moving at walking pace, he would be reading and smiling to himself over the brilliant satire of Aristophanes in the original. Then in a long, irregular column his Bedouin “sons” followed in their rainbow-colored garments, swaying to the rhythm of the camel gait. And whether they were passing over the sands east of Akaba, or the stony hill country of Edom and Moab, they always sang and jested.
At either end of the cavalcade was a warrior-poet. One of them would begin to chant a verse, and each man, all along the column, would take his turn to cap the poet’s words with lines of the same meter. There were war-songs and songs that caused the camels to lower their heads and move at a faster pace. Often in the verses the men commented on each other’s love-affairs or on the Emir Feisal or Sidi (Lord) Lawrence.
“I wish he would pay us another pound a month.” This, decorated with rhetorical flourishes in Arabic, was the theme of the body-guard’s song one day.
Another time it was: “I wonder if Allah has seen the head-cloth which has the good fortune to cover our Lord Lawrence’s head? It is not a good head-cloth. The Lord Lawrence should give it me.” As a matter of fact, the head-cloths that Shereef Lawrence wore were more resplendent than any they had ever seen. His playful “sons” coveted them.
The harmonic scale of Arabian music is different from ours, so that to Western ears unused to it Arabian singing sounds like a medley of discords. Yet the Bedouin delighted in Western music churned out by a phonograph that Lawrence brought from Cairo. Its success encouraged a Scotch sergeant in Akaba to provide some instruments and organize a band. He helped the Arab bandsmen to create an Arabian national anthem and taught them to play “Annie Laurie” and “Auld Lang Syne” after a fashion. The Scotch airs we could stand for a time, even though every instrument was out of tune and every man chose his own key; but whenever the Arabs practised their own national anthem around the camp we preferred swimming and left at once for a deserted island down the gulf for a dip in the surf just below the ruin of a Crusader castle, where Godfrey de Bouillon and his knights had bathed a thousand years before us.
The Bedouin body-guard’s sense of humor sometimes took the form of practical jokes. If one of their number fell asleep in his saddle, a companion would charge his camel straight at the slumberer and knock him off. Whenever their Lord left them for a visit to Cairo or to Allenby’s headquarters, most of his body-guard managed to get themselves imprisoned by the Emir Feisal as a result of their wild humor and general unruliness. Nobody but Lawrence could handle his devils, as they were called.
Once, having just returned to Akaba from Egypt, he wanted to set out on a secret mission without delay. As usual, he found the majority of his personal followers in the lockup. Among the prisoners were two specially daring men named Ferraj and Daoud. Lawrence immediately sent for Sheik Yussef, the civil governor of Akaba, and asked what had happened. Yussef laughed and cursed, then laughed again.
“I had a beautiful white camel,” he said, “and one night she strayed away. Next morning I heard a great commotion in the street, and when I went out I found every one in the bazaar laughing uproariously at an animal with blue legs and a red head. Not without difficulty I recognized it as my camel. Ferraj and Daoud were found at the waterfront washing red henna and blue indigo dye off their arms, yet they denied all knowledge of my beautiful white camel. Allah will pardon me for doubting them.”