Early in January, 1914, Enver became Minister of War. At that time he was thirty-two years old. Like all the leading Turkish politicians of the period, he came of humble stock, and his popular title, “hero of the revolution,” shows why Talaat and the Committee had selected him as Minister of War. Enver enjoyed something of a military reputation, though, so far as I could discover, he had never achieved a great military success. The revolution of which he was one of the leaders in 1908 cost very few human lives; he commanded an army in Tripoli against the Italians in 1912--but certainly there was nothing Napoleonic about that campaign. Enver used to tell me himself how, in the second Balkan war, he had ridden all night at the head of his troops to the capture of Adrianople, and how, when he arrived there, the Bulgarians had abandoned it and his victory had thus been a bloodless one. But certainly Enver did have one trait that made for success in such a distracted country as Turkey--and that was audacity. He was quick in making decisions, always ready to stake his future and his very life upon the success of a simple adventure; from the beginning, indeed, his career had been one lucky crisis after another. His nature had a remorselessness, a lack of pity, a cold-blooded determination, of which his clean-cut handsome face, his small but sturdy figure, and his pleasing manners, gave no indication. Nor would the casual spectator have suspected the passionate personal ambition that drove him on. His friends commonly referred to him as “Napoleonlik”--the little Napoleon--and this nickname really represented Enver’s abiding conviction. I remember sitting one night with Enver, in his house; on one side hung a picture of Napoleon, on the other one of Frederick the Great, and between them sat Enver himself! This fact gives some notion of his vanity; these two warriors and statesmen were his great heroes, and I believe that Enver thought fate had a career in store for him not unlike theirs. The fact that, at twenty-six, he had taken a leading part in the revolution which had deposed Abdul Hamid naturally caused him to compare himself with Bonaparte, and several times has he told me that he believed himself to be “a man of destiny.” Enver even affected to believe that he had been divinely set apart to re-establish the glory of Turkey and make himself the great dictator. Yet, as I have suggested, there was something almost dainty and feminine in Enver’s appearance. He was the type that in America we sometimes call a _matinée_ idol, and the word women frequently used to describe him was “dashing.” His face contained not a single line or furrow; it never disclosed his emotions or his thoughts; he was always calm, steely, imperturbable. That Enver certainly lacked Napoleon’s penetration is evident from the way in which he had planned to obtain the supreme power, for he early allied his personal fortunes with Germany. For years