through. It’s just a matter of waiting.’
‘That’s all right for those who can afford it. Some firms are making up their fellows’ salaries so they don’t lose by joining the army. Mine doesn’t. You’re quite happily placed, aren’t you, Uncle?’
‘Well, I’m not quite broke yet.’
‘Wish I wasn’t. It’s jolly awkward for me. Did you realize when we joined they’d make us pay for our food?’
‘Well, we don’t really. We pay for what we have to supplement rations. It’s very good value.’
‘That’s all very well, but I’d have thought the least they could do would be to feed us in war-time. It was a shock when I found my first mess bill. How do they expect us to live? I’m absolutely stony.’
‘I see.’ said Guy without enthusiasm or surprise, for this was not the first conversation of the kind he suffered in the last few weeks and Sarum-Smith was not a man whom he particularly liked. ‘I suppose you want a loan.’
‘I say, Uncle, you’re a thought-reader. I would be glad of a fiver if you can spare it. Just till the Army pays up.’
‘Don’t tell everyone else.’
‘No, of course not. A lot of us are in a bit of a fix, I can tell you. I tried Uncle Apthorpe first. He advised me to come to you.’
‘Thoughtful of him.’
‘Of course if it’s putting you in a fix….’
‘No, that’s all right. But I don’t want to become banker for the whole Corps.’
‘You shall have it back the moment I get my pay…’
Guy was owed fifty-five pounds.
Soon it was time to change into flannels and go to the gym. This was the one part of the day Guy hated. The squad of probationary officers assembled under the arc lights. Two Halberdier corporals were kicking a football about. One of them kicked it so that it smacked against the wall over their heads.
‘That’s damned cheek,’ said a young man named Leonard.
The ball came again, rather closer,
‘I believe the fellow’s doing it deliberately,’ said Sarum-Smith.
Suddenly there was a loud authoritative shout from Apthorpe. ‘You two men, there. Can’t you see there’s a squad of officers here? Take that ball and get out.’
The corporals looked sulky, picked up their ball and strolled out with, a plausible suggestion of nonchalance. Outside the door they laughed loudly. The gym seemed to Guy to institute a sort of extra territorial area, the embassy of an alien and hostile people that had no part in the well-ordered life of the barracks.
The Physical Training instructor was a sleek young man with pomaded hair, a big behind and unnaturally glittering eyes. He performed his great feats of strength and agility with a feline, and, to Guy, most offensive air of sang-froid.
The purpose of P.T. is to loosen up,’ he said, ‘and counteract the stiffening effects of the old-fashioned drill. Some of you are older than others. Don’t strain. Don’t do more than you feel you can. I want to see you
enjoy
yourselves. We’ll start with a game.’
These games had a deeply depressing effect even on the youngest. Guy stood in line, took a football when it came to him from between the legs of the man in front, and passed it on. They were supposed to compete, one rank against the other,
‘Come on,’ said the instructor, ‘you’re letting them get away with it. I’m backing you. Don’t let me down.’
After the game came exercises.
‘Make it smooth and graceful, gentlemen, as though you were waltzing with your best girl. That’s the way, Mr Trimmer. That’s very rhythmic. In the old days a soldier’s training consisted of standing stiff at attention for long periods and stamping the feet. Modern science has shown that stamping the feet can seriously jar the spinal column. That’s why nowadays every day’s work ends with half an hour’s limbering up.’
This man would never fight, Guy thought He would stay in his glaring shed, rippling his muscles, walking on his hands, bouncing about the boards like an
‘That’s all right for those who can afford it. Some firms are making up their fellows’ salaries so they don’t lose by joining the army. Mine doesn’t. You’re quite happily placed, aren’t you, Uncle?’
‘Well, I’m not quite broke yet.’
‘Wish I wasn’t. It’s jolly awkward for me. Did you realize when we joined they’d make us pay for our food?’
‘Well, we don’t really. We pay for what we have to supplement rations. It’s very good value.’
‘That’s all very well, but I’d have thought the least they could do would be to feed us in war-time. It was a shock when I found my first mess bill. How do they expect us to live? I’m absolutely stony.’
‘I see.’ said Guy without enthusiasm or surprise, for this was not the first conversation of the kind he suffered in the last few weeks and Sarum-Smith was not a man whom he particularly liked. ‘I suppose you want a loan.’
‘I say, Uncle, you’re a thought-reader. I would be glad of a fiver if you can spare it. Just till the Army pays up.’
‘Don’t tell everyone else.’
‘No, of course not. A lot of us are in a bit of a fix, I can tell you. I tried Uncle Apthorpe first. He advised me to come to you.’
‘Thoughtful of him.’
‘Of course if it’s putting you in a fix….’
‘No, that’s all right. But I don’t want to become banker for the whole Corps.’
‘You shall have it back the moment I get my pay…’
Guy was owed fifty-five pounds.
Soon it was time to change into flannels and go to the gym. This was the one part of the day Guy hated. The squad of probationary officers assembled under the arc lights. Two Halberdier corporals were kicking a football about. One of them kicked it so that it smacked against the wall over their heads.
‘That’s damned cheek,’ said a young man named Leonard.
The ball came again, rather closer,
‘I believe the fellow’s doing it deliberately,’ said Sarum-Smith.
Suddenly there was a loud authoritative shout from Apthorpe. ‘You two men, there. Can’t you see there’s a squad of officers here? Take that ball and get out.’
The corporals looked sulky, picked up their ball and strolled out with, a plausible suggestion of nonchalance. Outside the door they laughed loudly. The gym seemed to Guy to institute a sort of extra territorial area, the embassy of an alien and hostile people that had no part in the well-ordered life of the barracks.
The Physical Training instructor was a sleek young man with pomaded hair, a big behind and unnaturally glittering eyes. He performed his great feats of strength and agility with a feline, and, to Guy, most offensive air of sang-froid.
The purpose of P.T. is to loosen up,’ he said, ‘and counteract the stiffening effects of the old-fashioned drill. Some of you are older than others. Don’t strain. Don’t do more than you feel you can. I want to see you
enjoy
yourselves. We’ll start with a game.’
These games had a deeply depressing effect even on the youngest. Guy stood in line, took a football when it came to him from between the legs of the man in front, and passed it on. They were supposed to compete, one rank against the other,
‘Come on,’ said the instructor, ‘you’re letting them get away with it. I’m backing you. Don’t let me down.’
After the game came exercises.
‘Make it smooth and graceful, gentlemen, as though you were waltzing with your best girl. That’s the way, Mr Trimmer. That’s very rhythmic. In the old days a soldier’s training consisted of standing stiff at attention for long periods and stamping the feet. Modern science has shown that stamping the feet can seriously jar the spinal column. That’s why nowadays every day’s work ends with half an hour’s limbering up.’
This man would never fight, Guy thought He would stay in his glaring shed, rippling his muscles, walking on his hands, bouncing about the boards like an
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