March 8, 1917 
LAND & WATER 
15 
factory were obviously out of the question, these 
intricate pieces were being turned and liled and lifted 
" righta here." Before I left the depot I returned to 
the shop to see this rejuvenated " Bosch " connected up 
with a testing machine and throwing out just as even a 
" star " of sparks as it ever did in the days when it wore 
its now discarded " Ua.de in Germany " casing. 
' ' The remarkable aptitude the average Itahan is 
displaying for mechanical work," said the distinguished 
General under whose direction these repair depots aru 
being carried on, " is no less gratifying as an aid to winning 
the war than it is reassuring of the extent to which Italy 
may achieve industrial independence after the war. It 
has been nothing less than a national tragedy that men 
capable of performing skilled work \\ith so little training 
as these should be forced to go abroad to earn a living ; 
but I have every hope that our war work will have shown 
us the way — through the development of our industries — 
to offer them sufficiently remunerative employment to 
keep them at home. If it does, that will not be the least 
of our fruits of victory." 
It would hardly be proper at this time to go into details 
as to what Italy has done for herself on the score of arms. 
I may be permitted to say, liowever, that, from being 
heavily dependent upon her AlUes for machine guns early 
in the war, she is now turning out in ample quantities an 
arm of her own which, for her own special requirements, 
has distinct points of superiority over any gun of this 
character in use in Europe to-day. In light artillery 
she has a gun that rivals the famous French " 75 "^ — 
after which it is patterned — in the speed with which it 
will eat up shells. Moreover, she is able to turn out these 
shells sufficiently beyond her own requirements as to be 
able to export liberally to at least one of her Allies. She 
is also able to export rifles. In trench-mortars, in experi- 
menting with which as an adjunct to infantry attack 
Italy was the real pioneer, she is still looking ahead, her 
latest weapons of this class coming pretty near to ranging 
as a veritable " arm of precision." Of big guns, though 
her output has been greatly increased, Italy makes no 
pretension to having enough. Neither does any other 
of the warring nations for that matter. 
Italy's motor-car industry was thoroughly started 
long before the war, and she had her problems of motor 
transport — more important to her than to any other 
belligerent — well in hand from the outset. The roads 
which form her main communications are distinctly 
better maintained than those behind either the French 
or British fronts, and I have recently talked with a visit- 
ing French officer' who said that, owing largely to the 
fact that the overwhelming majority of the Italian 
lorries are of the same type, the motor transport of the 
latter undoubtedly worked more smoothly than even 
that of his own army. Italy's principal motor works are 
also the largest in Europe, and their capacity to turn out 
heavy lorries must be very nearly equal to that of all but 
one or two of the great American factories. The surplus 
of cars for export is being increased every montli. 
Italy's remarkable record in war industry, it should be 
borne in mind, has been made under the hanclicap imposed 
by her non-production of either coal or iron, the importa- 
tion of which has been the principal factor in turning the 
exchange so heavily against her. Fortunately, all her 
great northern manufacturing centres are largely served 
with electrical power generated upon Alpine streams, and 
it is on the fact, that every important city of the ItaUan 
peninsula is within economic transmittingdistance of one 
or more points where hydro-electric development can be 
made to furnish power far in excess of any demands 
probable for many years to come, that she bases her 
hopes of an industrial future independent of the im- 
portation of coal from abroad. Wliat Italy has done 
imder this handicap augurs auspiciously of what she may 
do once it is thrown off. 
The Batman 
By Centurion 
A S we turned into the road to Cosham, our car 
/% met a " W.D." wagon, and the driver of the 
/ % wagon dropped his right hand smartly. 
^ -^- " When I first put this uniform on," said the 
subaltern with a faint reminiscence of Gilbert and 
Sullivan, " I was saluted in succession by a policeman, 
a comrhissionaire, a boy-scout, and a member of the 
Women's Emergency Corps. I felt very embarrassed. 
What ought I to have done ? " 
" The first two had probably been soldiers, the third 
hoped to be one," said the Major. " You should have 
saluted all three." 
" But what about the girl ? " 
" Kiss her, of course," said the Major, gravely. " A 
kiss is a salute. There's scriptural authority for it." 
" I never thought of that," said the subaltern wistfully. 
".What a target ! " exclaimed the Major as a platoon 
in open formation appeared on the sky-line. " Tangent- 
sight at eight hundred — I thinh." 
" But supposing she boxed my ears f " persisted the 
subaltern. 
" That's all right ; the penalty for striking an officer 
on active service is DEATH," replied the Major. " You 
could explain that to her. She can't have it both 
ways." 
" By jove ! that's true," said the subaltern. He began 
to look thoughtful. 
" That reminds me " . . . said the Major, medita- 
tively. " Eyes RIGHT," he said suddenly as he caught 
sight of the subaltern exchanging glanceswith a buxom 
wench on the left of our car as we shot past. 
" It reminds you," I prompted. 
" Of a batman— a fellow I had in the South African 
War. • Such a batman ! As a rule, if a batman's honest 
he's not intelligent, and if he's intelligent he's iiot honest. 
This fellow was both. He made my buttons shine like 
stars, he polished my boots tilll could see my face in 
them, and he never once forgot to call me in the morning. 
When I was sick he nursed me like a . . . like 
a . . ." 
" Like a woman ! " said the subaltern enthusias- 
tically. 
" Well, yes, like i woman. He made tea that was neither 
black as ink nor sweet as syrup. He did not smoke, 
neither did he drink. He took as much care of my liorse 
as he did of me. He never told a lie — except once. 
And he never whistled." 
" His name, please ! " I said, taking out my pocket- 
book. I have had two batmen — one honest, the other 
intelligent. I am looking for a third. 
" That I can't tell you. No, I don't mean I won't, 
I mean I can't. I don't know it^I never did. I can 
give you his address, though, if that's any good. 'Gal- 
veston, Texas,' — at least that's the post mark. D'you 
think if I knew his name I'd—. But I'm putting the 
cart before the horse. Well, I'll tell you the story. I had 
a commission in Trclawney's Horse— they gave me a com- 
mission in the regulars afterwards — which you may 
remember was a well known unit of irregulars. And a very 
hefty lot they were.' Avery scratch lot, too — colonials, 
mining engineers, remittance men, soldiers of fortune and 
so on. South Africa was swarming with levies of that 
kind, each one differing from the other in arms, kit, for- 
mation, and all the rest of it. They were enough to make 
a R.T.O.'s hair stand on end. But, as I say, a hefty body 
of men and not one of 'em but knew how to sit a horse 
as soon as look at it. Well, one day a likely-looking 
youth with an American accent you could cut with a knife 
came into camp and said he guessed he'd join us. There 
wasn't much attestation red-tape about Trelawney's 
Horse ; if it comes to that I daresay half of 'cm could 
have been court-martialled for fraudulent enUstmcnt. 
All a recruit was asked was ' Can you ride ? Can you . 
shoot ? ' and if the troop-sergeant was satisfied no one 
asked any more questions. In fact it was about as tactful 
to ask a man in Trelawney's Horse about his past as it 
