Chapter 8 No.8

Next day Blase-Bones had us all up for a lecture.

'You know, you fellows need a lot of bucking up. Of course, I can see that, being New Army men, you're a bit handicapped. And I think it's an awful pity, don't you know, that you couldn't have gone to Sandwurse. However, it's my good fortune to be in command.' (How he loved that word!) 'If you will pay attention to me, I hope to pull you through.'

'God help us!' mumbled Ginger, who was at the back.

'What's that?' he inquired.

'I was just saying, sir, how much you'd help us.'

'I see-I see,' he muttered, but quite convinced that Ginger was pulling his leg. However, he had a face of brass, and continued: 'I want your huts smartened up. They ought to be like a ship's deck, with everything in order. And there's too much "fug," too many d-- novels lying around. I saw one yesterday by that beastly fellow, H. G. Wells. If you feel you want to read, get Kipling and the Morning Post.'

'Do you permit the Daily News, sir?' inquired Nobby, in such a humble (but assumed) manner that Blase-Bones thought Nobby was actually appealing to his profound knowledge.

'Certainly not! But I should be awfully pleased to write you a list of papers and books, if you care to have it. I'm sure they would help you to understand the war. Another thing! I addressed one man yesterday, and he did not say "sir" when replying. This must not occur again. It's rotten bad form, and I won't have it! Won't have it! Dismiss!'

Ginger rose with a groan. All his Oxford Imperialism had vanished. He wanted to be a murderer and a revolutionary. We took him to the canteen and gave him a drink. He recovered!

'Say, boys, I reckon we've got to get busy,' said Tosher that evening.

'Your proposition?' demanded Ginger.

'Anything from slicing to lynching. I guess the world ain't any the richer for that production.'

'We'll catch him, duck him, and d-- the consequences.'

'Tar and feather him,' suggested Beefy.

'I think you are all very stupid,' remarked Billy. 'Why should you worry yourself about an atom? He can't go too far. The company officer will see to that. Give him a full rope and he'll hang himself.' Billy Greens was afraid of revolt.

'Well, boys, I'm a lawyer,' submitted Nobby. 'This man may be an ass; but he's got the Manual of Military Law behind him, and don't forget it. We're in the army, "don't you know," and this youth would come out top-dog. Again, I'm too jolly lazy to entertain the thought of getting chucked for my commission, and sent back to do orderly-man. Therefore, I say, give him rope, and, as the padre says, he'll hang himself.'

'Meantime we suffer,' commented Ginger.

'That suffering, old chap, is not as bad as fighting the Boche.'

'Isn't it?'

'Let's vote for Nobby's idea,' I said. 'We don't want to make bally fools of ourselves. Besides, there's the reputation of the school, and the old commandant. I don't think we ought to let the Old Man down. He's been good to us.'

'That's right, John! That's right!' exclaimed the padre, glad to think a budding mutiny was being quelled.

'Oh, very well. We'll study the brute,' concluded Ginger, recalling the lecture on psychology.