I was out of bed and showered early the following morning, not simply because of the previous night’s events, although they still worried me, but it was a routine for me to check my guns before using them. I am, it’s true, a creature of habit, but habits can be good as well as bad.
This particular custom probably derived from my days in the army where the rigorous checking of guns, as well as the rest of the kit, was drilled into your memory by the company sergeant-major, there to remain no matter what rank you finally achieved.
It wasn’t only time spent in the military that made me disciplined in my approach to ordinary life. That started at the Methodist Church Preparatory School I attended until the age of thirteen, when it was reinforced at Eton College before university life made it
