The duty was then upgraded by the presence of a Red Beret Platoon of the Police G.S.U. (General Service Unit).  These  platoons had a good reputation for their skills in the forest.  There were many settler visitors who expected to have priority access to Kimathi.  They drifted down in ones and twos -  and occasionally in groups - fresh from indulgence at the Outspan or White Rhino Hotel in Nyeri Township.  I made a few enemies by refusing them entry. Ian Henderson was an early visitor, and I was ordered out while he spent time alone in the ward.  His reputation for work with the pseudo- gangs had made him something of a hero amongst police on the outstations.  Though known to speak fluent Gikuyu, and as good as his reputation was, I did not know if he held the fanatical views of my compatriots.  (It had come a a shock to me while at Kionyo in the Meru Division to have an Administrative ASP suggest that, instead of detaining four women food-carriers, it would have looked better if I had reported a 'contact' in which four magaidi were killed.) I spent a worrying time waiting outside, but he did not stay long. He said nothing on departure and, when I returned, Dedan made no mention of the visit.
 
Medical Treatment

At an early stage in the hospital, DK let it be known that he was in pain through being unable to urinate.  This was apparently due to the location of the bullet. A male nurse, possibly a doctor, inserted a tube into his penis and the urine flowed.  His relief was immediately evident. In that small private ward the atmosphere created by the release of stale urine was overpowering.  With no air-conditioning in those days, we had nothing to do but wait while the portable fan and open window replaced the fetid air. 

The day after that treatment, DK was given a pre-op innoculation and we made our way to the Operating Theatre.  My presence was insisted upon inside the theatre because it was felt that the educated 'loyal' Gikuyu might have influence on the theatre staff.  The pointlessness of my presence struck me when there was an irregularity in the delivery of the anaesthetic.  I looked sharply at the anaethetist who appeared busily engaged with dial and valves.  What was I meant to do?  The regularity of delivery was resumed and I no longer had anything to worry over.  It was not till the next day that DK and I had further communication. It had surprised me to read that he had retained the Bible he was said to have carried with him into the forest. Until we got an English version through the local Church of England parish, he had no Bible in those early days after capture. He read a little of the fiction that I brought with me, but, not unsurprisingly, he found difficulty in concentrating on light reading.  The Bible was the only book he requested.

Media Reporters

I have an intense dislike of media reporters from my day in the Army in Malaya. A quite famous representative of that despicable rabble, who wrote regularly for the News of the World, had his picture taken in the greenery at the back of our cookhouse. Through one of our spineless good-for-nothing officers, he was able to get weapons out of the armoury and get the cookhouse staff to hold them and look grim while he joined them and the picture were taken.  They appeared under a heading that this reporter had insisted on joining in a jungle patrol.  Added to that incident were two Royal visits where, having a part to play in keeping crowds back, we discovered no crowds! In Singapore, officers ordered the locally employed troops back to barracks to line the streets. When they came back, there was no cheering and the Duke of Kent passed through like a sulky great kid. In Mombasa, again, there were no crowds.  I am told school children were let out to give the appearance of a spontaneous welcome.  Reporters chose not to report such matters and photos were taken giving the impression of welcoming multitudes. 

Nairobi had a wealth of UK reporters attending to another Royal visit, and they all made haste to 'outback' Nyeri to cover the capture of the last jungle leader, Dedan Kimathi. Again, acting under orders, I accompanied DK, on a stretcher, out to the front of the Hospital. We were in a very exposed position. In my own mind, the greatest threat to DK would come from Eurpeans and to have a lot of unrecognisable white faces around us was worrying. Bearing in mind that the European settlers had grown up with guns and were accurate, if at times irresponsible, users of them - a large warning sign on a sharp bend on a hill bore many bullet holes of that misuse -  it seemed an unnecessary risk.  Just another example of the failure of colonial administrators to take note of the opinion of the man in the field.  The reporters for their part behaved with juvenile stupidity. With no means, in those days, of getting their stories back to London they squabbled and pushed one another to get their photos. Questions were asked of me which I relayed to DK until I remembered his knowledge of English. He was evidently as angry as I was with the rabble that surrounded us. Our combined reticence probably shortened the length of the interview and it was to our mutual relief that we were able to return to the ward.

To King Georgey Hotel

Despite the accession to the throne of Queen Elizabeth, the Nyeri prison was generally still known amongst our police as King Georgey Hotel.  Situated, if memory does not play me ill, just north of Nyeri township, it was certainly no hotel as chain gangs were still occasionally seen working outside of the prison.  We, DK and I, were to become residents of that establishment.  In reality, my presence wa superfluous.  The prison had outside walls of about thirty feet or so in height and we were taken to an internal compound within those walls.  DK was still a stretched case.  From there we were taken to an internal cell, that, although bigger than our room at the hospital, had no window to the outside world or to the change of night and day. We agreed that this was not a good place to be. Our situation had indeed changed. Apart from now living within a secure prison environment, we also had two platoons of GSU stationed outside of the prison, an assessment I imagine made by chair-polishing administrators in Whitehall, London.