Before he ever entered the Craft, a traveller and reserve officer worked for a time in East Africa. Living at the Serena Hotel in Nairobi, he noticed that the nearby Masonic Hall often hosted its Festive Board there. He watched the visiting brethren with curiosity, not yet aware that their world would one day become his own.

A year later, his work took him to Sri Lanka, where he found friendship with two retired officers of the island’s forces – a Sinhalese Wing Commander and a Moorish Colonel. They collaborated in the developing field of tourism, bound by respect, discipline and that quiet sense of decency which transcends nationality and creed.

Years passed. Having himself become a Freemason and served as Master of his lodge, he visited several lodges in Colombo. In one of them, working under the English Constitution, he recognised a familiar face – the same Colonel, now serving as Secretary. Their handshake bridged not only time but understanding: a brotherhood discovered rather than declared.

The Colonel had once trained at Sandhurst, sharing quarters with a fellow cadet who would later become King Hussein of Jordan – himself a Brother of the Craft. That thread of history seemed to complete the circle: German, Sinhalese, Moor and Jordanian – all men who, in different ways, had served, remembered, and built bridges where once there were divides.

It was a quiet confirmation of what Freemasonry has always taught – that fellowship often exists long before it is formally recognised.