And speaking of Naval princes—Lieut. Windsor (later George VI) was a turret officer in a British battlewagon that paid a call to San Diego. This was prohibition and a bunch of the younger limey officers lit out for Agua Caliente. Lieut. Windsor knew damn well that he should not go—a royal prince crossing into Mexico without letting the Mexican government know it—Jerry, you will understand the protocol matters involved even better than I do. But he went . . . and when he returned, his skipper required him to deliver up his sword and slapped him in hack for the rest of the cruise. Publicly, too—no attempt to save face. Duke and prince and second in line to the throne—no matter. To that 4-striper he was Mr. Windsor, a division officer who had goofed and must pay for it.