Attached to us were some Indian Army troops under British officers; the make-up was a little unusual, many of the soldiers had been temporarily released form prison on the understanding that if they served for the duration of the war they would then become free men. Most of their crimes were of a political nature, some included murder. They seemed to have an intense loyalty towards their officers and I encountered them in the following way; for our sports minded colleagues just kicking a soccer ball around wasn't sufficiently satisfying, they wanted a regulation sized pitch marked out. The hard baked sand didn't take paint very well but discarded engine oil could be used instead. Since I could measure with a steel tape and knew how to construct right angles using the three, four, five principle and could count beyond 50 I was given the pitch proportions and told to get on with it. For help I was put in charge of six Indians who would hack out the narrow shallow channels with their picks along string lines that I had laid out and these they would fill with oil producing very dark lines. There were six of them all armed with picks and only one of me armed with an empty rifle. However I was told that they were quite harmless and could be persuaded to behave under the threat of confiscating their pay books which would have the effect of breaking their contracts resulting in their going back to prison. I had no trouble at all, in fact they were a cheery group quite happy to work. In the army I came across quite a cross section of humanity, running the whole gamut of characters. I am reminded of a sergeant-major, a peace time regular, who discovered one day that things were missing from the Company Office; he decided to do something about it. In the office there was a large wicker basket used for laundry and into this he contorted himself pulling down the lid nearly shut so he could peep out and identify the thieves. He waited and waited but nobody came in because the word had got around; eventually he emerged very stiffly, defeated. Early one morning he had occasion to phone the captain; it was a wall mounted instrument, he took the receiver off its hook and stood rigidly to attention facing the mouthpiece; when the captain answered he snapped a perfectly smart salute and said, "Good morning, Sir -- I am now saluting you." And then he carried on with whatever else he had to say. I forget exactly how it came about but one time when I was in Baghdad I got roped in for guard duty, this time it was to watch over a prisoner. The prison was only a tent top surrounded with barbed wire and there was only one prisoner. It was all very informal, we chatted a bit and he didn't seem to be at all concerned with his predicament. I asked him what he was doing there and he said that he was being charged with theft. "Of what?" I asked. "A jeep," he replied.