Never a day passed without its camp rumour. If Macgregor was
disposed to be over-credulous, his friend Willie was sceptical
enough for two.
'I hear we're for the Dardanelles next week,' the former observed
one afternoon.
Willie snorted. 'What the ---- wud they send us yins to the
Dardanelles afore we ken hoo to fire a rifle?'
'I heard it for a fac',' Macgregor returned imperturbably. 'They
want us yins for begnet wark, no for snipin'.'
'Begnet wark! I'll bet ye fifty fags I get a dizzen Turks on ma
begnet afore ye get twa on yours!'
Macgregor let the boastful irrelevance pass. 'I wonder,' he said,
thoughtfully, 'if we'll get extra leave afore we gang.'
'Plenty o' leave! Keep yer mind easy, Macgreegor. It's a million
in gold to a rotten banana we never get a bash at onybody. It's
fair putrid to think o' a' the terrible hard wark we're daein' here
to nae purpose. I wisht I was deid! Can ye len' 'us a bob?'
'I ha'ena got it, Wullie; honest.' Willie sadly shook his head.
'That moll o' yours,' said he, 'is awfu' expensive. Ye've nae
notion o' managin' weemen. Listen, an' I'll tell ye something. Ye
mind last Monday? Weel, I had a late pass that nicht, an' I thocht
I wud miss seein' ma aunt's ugly for wance--though it meant missin'
a guid meal forbye. So when I got to Glesca I picked up thon fat
girl we used to fling rubbish at when we was young. An', by Jings,
she was pleased an' prood! She stood me ma tea, includin' twa hot
pies, an' she gi'ed me a packet o' fags--guid quality, mind
ye!--an' she peyed for first-class sates in a pictur' hoose!
That's hoo to dae it, ma lad!' he concluded complacently.
'An' what did you gi'e her?' Macgregor inquired, after a pause.
'Ma comp'ny, likewise some nice fresh air fried in naething, for I
took her for a short walk. I could manage wi' ninepence.'
'Ach, I didna think ye was as mean as that, Wullie! Was--was she
guid-lookin'?'
'I didna notice her face a great deal; but she's a beezer for
stootness. I'm gaun to meet her again on ma next leave. If I tell
her we've orders for the Dardanelles, there's nae guessin' what
she'll dae for me.'
'She maun be unco saft,' Macgregor commented pityingly.
'Maybe the kilt had something to dae wi' it,' Willie modestly
allowed. 'They a' adore the kilt. Can ye no spare saxpence . . .
weel, thruppence?'
'I could spare ye a bat on the ear, but I'll tell ye what I'll dae.
I've got some money comin' the morn, an' I'll present ye wi' twa
bob, if ye'll tak' yer oath to spend them baith on gi'ein' the fat
yin a treat.'