THREE ROUNDS
At six o'clock next morning sergeant-majors and corporals went round the
hall stirring up the sleepers. There were groans and grumbles, but the
men turned out, and there was a general dash for the washing basins--one
among twenty men--and a free fight for the razors. Our two friends had
brought their own safeties and pocket mirrors, and when they had
finished operating upon their downy cheeks there was a competition among
their new messmates for the loan of those indispensable articles.
"Your bristles will ruin a blade in no time, Ginger," said Harry, as he
handed over the razor, somewhat ruefully.
"Perseverance, that's all you want," replied Ginger, through the lather.
"Yours 'll be as hard as mine in time."
At half-past six each man seized a mug and rushed off to the cook-house
across the yard for cocoa. They sat about the hall, swilling the
morning beverage, grumbling at the blankets, asking one another who'd be
a soldier; then they rubbed up their boots and made their beds, and were
ready for the seven o'clock parade.
Dressed only in their shirts and slacks they formed up in the
drill-hall. There was a good deal of disorder, and the N.C.O.'s, in
early-morning temper, roared above the din. It happened that Dick
Kennedy was orderly officer for the week. When the men were at last
ranged in ranks, dressed, and numbered by the sergeants, he posted
himself in front and, with a nervous twitching of the lips, said
gently--
"Battalion, 'shun!"
"Louder, louder!" whispered a fellow-officer who had come up behind him.
"This isn't a mothers' meeting."
The second lieutenant tried again.
"Battalion, 'shun! Advance in fours from the right. Form fours!"
Some of the men knew what to do, but many of the new recruits looked
about them blankly.
"You don't know the movements?" said the lieutenant. "Well, when I say
'form fours,' even numbers take one pace to the left with the left foot
and one pace to the right with the right. Now, form fours!"
The result was disorder--jostling in the ranks, cries of "Who're you
a-shoving of!"
"Sorry! My mistake!" said Kennedy, with a smile. "We'll try again. I
should have said, 'one pace to the rear with the left foot.' Now then,
form fours!"
His cheerfulness won the men's sympathy, and the order being now
correctly carried out, one or two of them cheered.
"Silence in the ranks!" roared Kennedy. "Right! Quick march!" and the
battalion marched off.
The day's work began with a run for three-quarters of an hour, to the
bank of a river some two miles away. A "run" so called, for it
consisted of slow and quick march and doubling in turn. At eight
o'clock they were back in the hall for breakfast: tea, bread and bacon,
sausage or cheese. The provisions were good, the men had healthy
appetites, and at 9.15, when the battalion orders of the day were read,
they were contented and cheerful.
Marching out to the parade ground, a field in the neighbourhood, they
spent an hour in physical drill under experienced N.C.O. instructors,
and then a couple of hours in company drill. Dismissed at 12.15, they
met again for dinner at 1, a plentiful meal of meat pie and vegetables.
Then came a route march and extended order drill, tea at 4.30, with jam
and tinned fruits, and at 5.30 company lectures.
"It'll be rummy to hear Kennedy lecture," said Harry, sitting beside
Kenneth on the form. "I wonder what he'll spout about."
"Poor chap!" said Kenneth. "I'm beginning to think the Tommies haven't
the worst of it. Keep a straight face whatever he says."
Somewhat to his surprise, when Kennedy appeared the men were at once
silent. The habit of discipline was strong in those who had already
served in the Regulars or the Territorials; the recruits were interested
in the novel circumstances, and subdued by the indefinable influence of
constituted authority.
"Now, men," began Kennedy, unfolding his notes and studiously avoiding
the eyes of his old school-fellows, "I'm going to say a few words to you
on Feet."
"My poor tootsies!" murmured one of the men.
"We have all got feet," Kennedy went on, "but do we all know how to use
them?"
"Give us a ball and we'll show you, sir," cried a voice.
"Well, I hope we'll have some footer by and by, but that's not the
present question. We have just done a ten-mile walk. Two or three of
you fell out, two or three were limping before we got back. Why was
that?"
"'Cos we ain't used to it, sir," said one of the unlucky ones.
"Ate too much pie and 'taters, sir," cried another.
"Got a corn inside o' my toe," said a third.
"Well, we'll leave out greediness for the present: that's a moral defect
which perhaps one of the senior officers will deal with. We'll confine
our attention to the proper care of the feet."
And he went on to give some simple and practical advice as to bathing,
greasing, methods of hardening, until six o'clock struck, and the men
were dismissed until first post at 9.30.
"Call that a lecture!" scoffed Stoneway, when the officer had gone.
"Does he take us for an infant school? Giving us pap like that!"
"You shut your face!" said Ginger. "The young feller spoke downright
good common sense, much better 'n you'd expect from a chap as went to
one of them there public schools. He said a thing or two I didn't know,
nor you either, Stoneway. 'Course he didn't go to the root of it;
dursn't cry stinking fish. What's the root? Why, boots. These 'ere
things they've gi'en us, they're no good. They're made to raise
blisters, they are, and they'll just mash when we get the rain."
"They're only temporary, I believe," said Kenneth, "till the factories
can turn out army boots in sufficient quantities."
"That's the English Government all over," said Stoneway, with a sneer.
"Nothing ready: no boots, no rifles----"
"Oh, stow it!" cried Ginger. "What did you 'list for if you're going to
grouse all the time? The worst of it is, you can't resign: we shall
have to put up with you, I s'pose, unless you mutiny, or strike your
superior officer, or do something else to get dismissed the army. Come
on, boys; let's go and see the pictures. We'll be back in time to draw
some soup from the cook-house, 8.30 to 9."
That is a fair sample of the day's work during the next two or three
months. It was monotonous, but, during the dry autumn, healthy. When
the rainy weather set in, hardship began to be felt. The men often got
drenched to the skin; their temporary boots, as Ginger had foretold,
became pulp. The factory was bleak and draughty, in spite of its gas
stoves. There was a certain amount of sickness, and an increase in the
number of offenders to be dealt with every morning by the colonel. But
the men were well fed, and cheered by presents of tobacco and cigarettes
from kindly townsfolk; and many wet, dull evenings were enlivened by
concerts and entertainments got up by friends of the officers.
Kenneth and Harry steadfastly declined offers of promotion as N.C.O.'s,
but owing to their knowledge of drill they were made right and left
guides of their platoon. They bought a football, and got up
inter-company matches in which No. 3 Company distinguished itself.
Indeed, both in work and play No. 3 Company became the crack company of
the battalion. The captain, an old army man who had been retired some
years and was some little time picking up the details of the new drill,
was a good sportsman and a hard worker, and by the end of January the
company was thoroughly efficient and knit together by that esprit de
corps which is the soul of fighting men.
Then came vaccination and inoculation. Stoneway was the ringleader of a
little group that declined the doctor's attentions, to the disgust of
Ginger and the majority.
"You're a traitor, that's what you are," said Ginger to Stoneway when
the latter flatly declined to be poisoned, as he put it. "You'll go and
catch some rotten disease or other and give it to us."
"This is a free country," retorted Stoneway. "And as to you, you're a
turncoat. Weren't you always spouting against the war? Didn't I back
you up? Who caved in as meek as a lamb?"
"Well, you followed along with the other sheep, didn't you? What you
joined for goodness only knows. You're always grousing about something
or other. Bacon's too fat, then it's too lean; cheese is dry, then it's
damp; you pick out little bits of lead out of the pear gravy, and spread
'em round your plate and put on a face like a holy martyr. You sit at
lecture with a snigger on your ugly mug; the pianner's out of tune;
nobody can sing for nuts; _you_ take jolly good care you don't do
nothing to amuse the company. Nothing's right; you always know better
'n anyone else; lummy, I believe you think you ought to be capting, if
not commander-in-chief. What did you join for, that's what I want to
know. I tell you straight, we've had enough of your grousing. Why
don't you take your grumbles to the officers? 'Any complaints?' says
they when they come round inspecting; why don't you speak up like a man?
No fear; you ain't got a word to say. All you can do is to growl when
they ain't by, and try to make yourself big before all the dirty swipes
of the regiment. Why, look at the other night, when they gave the
alarm, and we was all confined to barricks: what did you do then? When
all those nice young ladies came with their fiddles and things and sang
and played to us proper, gave us fags all round, too, you must get up in
a corner with your dirty lot and make such a deuce of a row we couldn't
hear a word of 'Dolly Grey'--my favourite song, too! If I'd been
colonel I'd have given you a good dose of clink straight away, and so
now you know it."
Ginger had fairly let himself go, and the applause that followed his
speech showed that he voiced the opinion of the majority. Stoneway made
no reply, but gradually edged away.
This was the culmination of an estrangement which had been developing
between the two men ever since the company was formed. Whatever had
brought them together previously, their enlistment had sundered them
completely. Ginger, whose backing Stoneway had been wont to count on in
any attack on authority, was now the most orderly as well as the
cheeriest man in the company. He passed off with a jest every hardship
of that trying winter. "Think of those poor chaps in the trenches," he
would say, if someone complained of the cold or a wetting. Stoneway
clearly resented his change of spirit, though it was a puzzle to the
better disposed among the men why he could have expected a display of
insubordination from these enthusiastic recruits in the New Army.
It must be admitted that Ginger took no pains to conciliate his old
companion. He did not launch out again into invective, but assumed the
still more irritating airs of a humorous observer. From time to time he
let fall a jesting word that had a sting, and took a delight in chaffing
Stoneway in the presence of other men. And since Stoneway himself
turned out to be no match for Ginger in these little bouts of wordy war,
and Ginger always managed to keep his temper, Stoneway became more and
more furious, and fell to meditating reprisals.
One Saturday afternoon, after a more than usually smart exchange of
banter on the one hand and abuse on the other, Ginger was sent by the
quartermaster to a farm some two miles away to fetch the balance of a
quantity of butter which had not been completely delivered.
"Just my luck!" said Ginger, in the hearing of a group that included
Kenneth and Harry. "It won't break my back, but I'd rather carry it two
yards than two miles. However!"
"I'm off duty presently," said Kenneth, "and I'll come part of the way
to meet you and lend you a hand."
"You're a white man," said Ginger. "Well, so long."
Some little while afterwards Kenneth and Harry started together by a
footpath across fields to the farmhouse. They had not gone far when
they caught sight of a figure in khaki about half a mile ahead, going in
the same direction as themselves. It was soon lost to sight behind a
hedge.
The path led over a hill that descended steeply on the farther side. On
reaching the top they saw two men in khaki at the foot of the slope
below them. One of them was Ginger, who had dropped his wicker basket
on the grass and stood with arms akimbo facing the other man, now
recognisable by his burly frame as Stoneway. Ginger, slim and wiry,
looked insignificant by comparison.
Just as Kenneth and Harry caught sight of the men, Stoneway lifted his
fist and with a sudden swift blow that took Ginger unawares sent him
head over heels. Ginger was up in an instant, and after skipping about
on his short legs for a few moments, made a rush at his opponent.
Stoneway staggered, but recovered himself immediately, clinched, and
profiting by his superior height and weight threw Ginger heavily, and
not being able to disengage himself, fell with him. The two men heaved
and twisted in a fierce struggle on the ground. Then Stoneway dragged
himself away, rose, and Kenneth, now running down the hill, saw him
deliberately kick the prostrate body of his apparently senseless
comrade.
"You cad!" shouted Kenneth, with Harry hard on his heels; "what do you
mean by that foul play?"
Stoneway, too much preoccupied to be aware of the approach of observers,
growled something under his breath, and was making off sullenly.
"No you don't!" cried Kenneth, seizing him. "Just have a look at
Ginger," he added to Harry.
Ginger, pale and shaken, sat up and smiled feebly.
"Time?" he said. "I'll have another round."
"Not a bit of it," said Harry. "He kicked you on the ground. Didn't
you know? It was foul play. What was it all about?"
"I didn't kick him," muttered Stoneway.
"That's a lie. I saw you do it," said Kenneth. "What's the row,
Ginger?"
"Well, what you may call a bit of a shindy," Ginger replied. "Just
between ourselves, like. I'm ready for another go."
"No. Come, out with it, man."
"Well, I was traipsing along with that there basket on my head when up
he comes and starts rounding on me for chipping him. 'I'm not having any
truck with grousers,' says I. Then we had a few words, and he got me
one afore I was ready, that I own. But I can't hardly believe he kicked
me when I was down, and a bit dazed like."
"He did. You take a rest and recover: we'll settle with him."
"What are you talking about?" Stoneway blustered.
"Giving you a hiding. Off with your coat," said Kenneth. "You'll see
fair play, Harry."
"I say, this is my job," said Harry. "You've been on the sick list."
"I'm all right."
"No, really."
"Well, don't let's waste time. I'll toss you for it."
And while Stoneway looked on in amazement, Kenneth spun a coin, won,
stripped off his tunic and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
"Two to one against the big 'un," cried Ginger, with a grin of delight.
Seeing there was no help for it, Stoneway slowly took off his tunic.
"And mind you fight fair," Harry warned him, "or I promise you I'll take
a hand myself."
The two men faced each other. They presented a striking contrast.
Stoneway was slightly the taller and much the heavier; his big chest
bulged under his shirt, and his biceps were thick. But Harry, scanning
him keenly, noting his fleshiness, decided that his muscles were rather
flabby than hard; and observing Kenneth's slighter but well-knit frame,
and remembering his promise as a boxer at school, felt pretty confident
of the result.
After the first few exchanges he was more doubtful. Stoneway had a
longer reach, and was clearly accustomed to the use of his fists. At
the start he forced the fighting, trying to get a knock-out blow, and
Kenneth needed all his skill to meet his bull-like rushes and
sledge-hammer strokes. He managed to land one punishing body-blow that
would have shaken up a smaller man, but Stoneway recovered himself
quickly, and the first round ended with little damage on either side
except that Stoneway found himself somewhat winded.
The combatants had now taken each other's measure. In the second round
Kenneth in his turn adopted forcing tactics, bewildering his opponent by
the whirlwind rapidity of his attack and his elusiveness in defence.
Stoneway began to realise that he had met more than his match. He
breathed heavily; his fat cheeks took on a yellowish tinge; and the end
of the round found him with a bigger nose and a bump over his right eye,
and greatly distressed in wind.
"Next round finishes him," whispered Harry, as he wiped Kenneth's face.
The third round was in fact conclusive. Stoneway made a desperate rush,
stopped by a neat upper cut, and before he could recover he was hurled
to the ground by a blow above the heart that might have finished a
professional pugilist.
"Now you'll apologise to Ginger," said Kenneth, as Stoneway slowly
picked himself up.
But Stoneway scowled out of his damaged brows, put on his tunic in
silence, and walked away without uttering a word.
It was much to Ginger's credit that not a man in the battalion ever
discovered how Stoneway had come by his bruises. There was an end alike
to his grumbling and to Ginger's rough banter. But there was an end,
too, to all show of friendliness between them. They never spoke to each
other, and Stoneway was always careful to keep out of Kenneth's way.