German mortar bombs were exploding in the middle of a small square only a hundred yards from Security Headquarters. Here I saw an ugly sight: a British officer interrogating an Italian civilian, and repeatedly hitting him about the head with a chair; treatment which the Italian, his face a mask of blood, suffered with stoicism. At the end of the interrogation, which had not been considered successful, the officer called in a private of the Hampshires and asked him in a pleasant, conversational sort of manner, "Would you like to take this man away, and shoot him?" The private’s reply was to spit on his hands, and say, "I don’t mind if I do, sir." The most revolting episode I have seen since joining the forces.
Norman Lewis, Naples ’44.