had been, by turns, a civil engineer and an actor, and had a fine
singing voice. As an officer he was infinitely laborious and
conscientious, but with a queer disconcerting streak of Irish
unaccountability. One never quite knew what he would do, if left alone
in charge of anything.

Winterton was a good-looking boy, who would have gone up to Cambridge in
1915, if there had been no war. Instead he enlisted in the Horse
Artillery, became a Corporal, and went to the Dardanelles as a Despatch
Rider. Having spent several months in hospital at Malta and nearly died
of dysentery, he came back to England and was given an Artillery
Commission. He was a gallant youth but just a little casual, with rather
a music-hall mind, but good company, if one was not left alone with him
too long.

There was also attached to the Battery at this time an Italian Artillery
officer, whom I will call Manzoni, a Southerner, small and very dark. He
had taught himself to speak excellent English though he had never been
in England. He was an intelligent observer and an amusing companion, and
we became great friends.

The personnel of the Battery was splendid, and I do not believe that in
any other Battery the spirit of the men was better, nor the personal
relations between officers and men on a sounder and healthier footing,
than with us.

Some Battery Commanders proceed on the principle that even the most
experienced N.C.O. cannot be trusted to perform the simplest duty,
except under the eye of an officer, however junior. The Battery in this
case becomes helplessly dependent on the officers. If they go out of