Shortly after
coming home he had an operation on his broken nose, and everything
seemed all right, but pleuritic pneumonia set in, and he died very
suddenly in a nursing home in St Andrews in February of this year.
There is one officer about whom innumerable stories could be told--no
need to mention his name. He, it was who, looking through a periscope,
well below the parapet, waved to a Turkish deserter to come in, and
could not understand how the Turk didn't see him.
When he was mounting his horse one day it collapsed and died on the
spot.
"That's a funny thing, Sergeant Cooper; I've never known this horse do
that before."
"Will you take my punishment or go before a court-martial?" "Your
award, Sir."
"Well, go away, and don't do it again!"
When asked how he got on when torpedoed on the way home, all we learnt
from him was, "It was very wet."
Then there is the oft quoted, "What are you complaining about? It's
only another five miles, and you've cocoa for your tea!"
Mac Lindsay,[14] the stock-whip expert and jack-of-all-trades,
confessed to only one ambition in life--to dress ---- in a little red
jacket and fez and lead him round on a chain! The report that he made
a Ford car out of bully-beef tins has, I understand, been officially
denied.
Just a week before the Armistice we lost Colthart, the best
quartermaster in the Army, and one of the best of fellows.
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