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Fri. Oct. 27 '67 Dear Jack,

  Got to at least start a letter to you.  Been so long.
  I don't think I even sent you a card from Morocco.  Actually I often did not have the money for stamps.  That means it was a very interesting trip.   I learned to sleep through bed bug attacks.  First came in the medina of Fes, an out-of-this-world place in all respects.  Was there for 3 days of the 5-day war.  Nobody bothered me or with me.  I did not see a Caucasian three for 2 days very strange effect on me - I did not know the state of warfare, just that there was trouble there, and the few radios drew crowds of Marocs chooking [sic] the narrow streets to martial music and Hitlerian bombast:  I had an idea things were awry.  Nothing much resulted from the war, in Morocco.  Was back in Tangier where the American library was broken up and were a couple of demonstrations and many rumors.   Found a pretty American chick so we became friendly.  Was (in the way of the 'East') smoking grass one night in our penthouse-like rooms with a view of the Straits and Spain, my head resting on the wall when an explosion knocked my head soundly on the wall.  It went on and I got up to see artillery clouds of blue smoke drifting over the bay in near darkness.  In my state I envisioned that wondrous Dyan (Sp?) initiating a great pincer movement by taking Tangier. "Gobble the bastards up!" was my feeling.  marginal note:  Was just a 21 gun salute!  I could see the Jews attacking Cairo by taking every North African country consecutively from Morocco on.  There were times when I did not care for the Moroccans.
  Stayed there 3 months and ran out of money in Marrakech in mid-July.  It is