_Time_: 7.30 P.M. _Scene: A large disused barn, where forty
members of the local Volunteer Training Corps are assembled for
drill. They are mostly men well over thirty-eight years of age, but
there is a sprinkling of lads of under nineteen, while a few are men
of "military age" who for some good and sufficient reason have been
unable to join the army. They are all full of enthusiasm, but at
present they possess neither uniform nor arms. Please note that in the
following dialogue the Sergeant alone speaks aloud; the other person_
thinks, _but gives no utterance to his words_.
_The Sergeant._ Fall in! Fall in! Come smartly there, fall in
And recollect that when you've fallen in
You stand at ease, a ten-inch space between
Your feet--like this; your hands behind your back--
Like this; your head and body both erect;
Your weight well poised on both feet, not on one.
Dress by the right, and let each rear rank man
Quick cover off his special front rank man.
That's it; that's good. Now when I say, "Squad, 'shun,"
Let every left heel swiftly join the right
Without a shuffling or a scraping sound
And let the angle of your two feet be
Just forty-five, the while you smartly drop
Hands to your sides, the fingers lightly bent,
Thumbs to the front, but every careful thumb
Kept well behind your trouser-seams. Squad, 'shun!
_The Volunteer._ Ha! Though I cannot find my trouser-seams,
I rather think I did that pretty well.
Thomas, my footman, who is on my left,
And Batts, the draper, drilling on my right,
And e'en the very Sergeant must have seen
The lithe precision of my rapid spring.
_The Sergeant._ When next I call you to attention, note
You need not slap your hands against your thighs.
It is not right to slap your thighs at all.
_The Volunteer._ He's looking at me; I am half afraid
I used unnecessary violence
And slapped my thighs unduly. It is bad
That Thomas should have cause to grin at me
And lose his proper feeling of respect,
Being a flighty fellow at the best;
And Batts the draper must not----
_The Sergeant._ Stand at ease!
_The Volunteer._ Aha! He wants to catch me, but he----
_The Sergeant._ 'Shun!
_The Volunteer._ Bravo, myself! I did not slap them then.
I am indubitably getting on.
I wonder if the Germans do these things,
And what they sound like in the German tongue.
The Germans are a----
_The Sergeant._ Sharply number off
From right to left, and do not jerk your heads.
[_They number off._
_The Volunteer._ I'm six, an even number, and must do
The lion's share in forming fours. What luck
For Batts, who's five, and Thomas, who is seven.
They also serve, but only stand and wait,
While I behind the portly form of Batts
Insert myself and then slip out again
Clear to the front, observing at the word
The ordered sequence of my moving feet.
Come let me brace myself and dare----
_The Sergeant._ Form fours!
_The Volunteer._ I cannot see the Sergeant; I'm obscured
Behind the acreage of Batts's back.
Indeed it is a very noble back
And would protect me if we charged in fours
Against the Germans, but I rather think
We charge two deep, and therefore----
_The Sergeant._ Form two deep!
_The Volunteer._ Thank Heaven I'm there, although I mixed my feet!
I am oblivious of the little things
That mark the due observance of a drill;
And Thomas sees my faults and grins again.
Let him grin on; my time will come once more
At dinner, when he hands the Brussels sprouts.
[_The drill proceeds._
Now we're in fours and marching like the wind.
This is more like it; this is what we need
To make us quit ourselves like regulars.
Left, right, left, right! The Sergeant gives it out
As if he meant it. Stepping out like this
We should breed terror in the German hordes
And drive them off. The Sergeant has a gleam
In either eye; I think he's proud of us.
Or does he meditate some stratagem
To spoil our marching?
_The Sergeant._ On the left form squad!
_The Volunteer._ There! He has done it! He has ruined us!
I'm lost past hope, and Thomas, too, is lost;
And in a press of lost and tangled men
The great broad back of Batts heaves miles away.
[_The Sergeant explains and the drill proceeds._
_The Volunteer._ No matter; we shall some day learn it all,
The standing difference 'twixt our left and right,
The bayonet exercise, the musketry,
And all the things a soldier does with ease.
I must remember it's a long, long way
To Tipperary, but my heart's----
_The Sergeant._ Dismiss!