Chapter 6 No.6

It was a cold, crisp day, with a keen, but healthy, breeze. The ground was not too hard, and excellent for the show. We were delighted, for there's nothing like a glorious scramble across God's green acres. It cleans the lungs, refreshes the brain, and gives one a zest for the things that matter. I am no marvel at the business, yet in pitting one's strength against a fellow-man in friendly rivalry, one does acquire the sporting instinct, which is a fair instinct. And to an officer it does give a sense of values, a ready appreciation of all that is good in human nature.

Our company officer, Captain Bloggs, was delighted with the weather prospect. He was an old Blue, and he did want his 'boys' to knock spots off the other company. And, strange to say, when we all turned out in running attire, we found Ginger, Nobby, and Tosher already there. There was a suspicion of malicious fun in Ginger's eyes. I scented something, and said, 'Look here, Beefy; there's some move on. These fellows are grinning like cats.'

'Oh, d-- them! they won't be in my way. They're soft, and out of training'--

Bang! went the pistol just then. We went off. Two hundred men in running-kit make a pretty show. Our school, I may rightly say, were the cream of manhood, chosen spartans, and a sight for the gods. This was no preparatory school scramble. These fellows were all in splendid condition, and it was a treat to slog along and watch them. How easily they ambled, limbs and will working in perfect harmony! Hurdles and dikes were taken with an easy bound; no puffing, no exertion, no ungainly slithering on the other side. Just a leap and over. I am quite sure that two hundred Hun cadets could not have done so well. Then we reached the open, the crowd spread out, and the stragglers were more easily marked. These were the elderly men, but right merrily they did their best. They wanted to win. Wasn't that a perfect spirit? And isn't it the basis of our true nature? We may love to be top-dog, but we do prefer to get it off our own bat. If we have been very foolish in worshipping cups, caps, and blazers before the war, still it helped us at Mons, and certainly at Ypres. As I watched these fine fellows sprint by my side something welled into my heart; it was the pride of school, the pride of race, the mysterious something which makes us give our all to keep the old flag flying. I may be no Christian, but I do love my fellow-men and my country.

'Hello! the game's opening,' I muttered on looking ahead. I was a bit behind, for I had been dreaming. Away in the front was Beefy. He was heavy, but a splendid athlete. His staying-power was good, and he had no nerves. With all his faults, Beefy was a sportsman, and if there was one man consumed with the craving for victory, it was he. I saw a long figure slogging steadily by his side. The style caught my fancy, so I pushed on, and found it was Ginger. Close behind was Billy Greens, the parson, and gently dodging by him was Nobby. Where was Tosher? I looked behind. He was dogging me. I smiled, but inwardly. I was just a bit cut. These men were out for 'blood.'

I spurted out of my stride, hell for leather, took a good-sized dike, then pushed hard across a wide meadow. It was good going, and my nerves were all out. This was unwise, but I didn't want Tosher to head me off. On reaching a wood I looked back. He was just behind. With a curse I dashed on, but my foot went plump into a rabbit-hole, and I was violently thrown, wrenching my ankle.

'Are you hurt, old boy?' asked Tosher.

'Yes,' I grunted.

'Looks bad. Wait and I'll get you a bandage.'

He ran to a stream, tore the two arms off his running-shirt, soaked them, came back, and bandaged the now swollen foot.

'You had better go on now, Tosher. I'll hobble home.'

'No, child. I reckon I'll carry you.'

'Get off, man. I'll manage somehow.'

However, it was useless. I was hoisted on his back and carried through the ranks of the grinning stragglers, who shouted, 'Did ums do it-John Brown?'

I did feel an ass.