OUR INNOCENT SUBALTERNS.

The leave-boat had come into port and there was the usual jam

around the gangways. On the quay at the foot of one of them was a

weary-looking officer performing the ungrateful task of detailing

officers for tours of duty with the troops. He had squares of white

cardboard in his hand, and here and there, as the officers trooped

down the gangway, he picked out a young and inoffensive-looking

subaltern and subpoenaed him.

I chanced to notice a young and rosy-cheeked second-lieutenant,

innocent of the ways of this rude world, and I knew he was doomed.

As he passed out on to the wharf I saw him receive one of those white

cards; he was also told to report to the corporal at the end of the

quay.

I saw him slip behind a truck, where he left his bag and haversack,

his gloves and his cane, and when he reappeared on the far side he had

on his rain-coat, without stars. He had also altered the angle of his

cap.

He waited near the foot of the other gangway, which was unguarded. I

drew nearer to see what he would do. Presently down the plank came

an oldish man--a lieutenant with a heavy moustache and two African

ribbons. My young friend stepped forward.

"You are detailed for duty," I heard him say. "You will report to the

N.C.O. at the end of the quay." His intonation was a model for the

Staff College.

"Curse the thing! I knew I should be nabbed for duty," I heard the

veteran growl as he strode off with the white card...

I met the young man later at the Hotel ----, where he had had the

foresight to wire for a room. As I had failed to do this, I was glad

to avail myself of his kind offer to share his accommodation. After

such hospitality I could not refuse him a lift in my car, as we were

both bound for the same part of the country.

I did not learn until afterwards that a preliminary chat with my

chauffeur had preceded his hospitable advances. Whenever anybody tells

me that our subalterns of to-day lack _savoir faire_ or that they are

deficient in tactical initiative, I tell him that he lies.

* * * * *

"A Bachelor, 38, wishes meet Protestant, born 4th Sept., 1899,

or 17th, 18th Sept., 1886, plain looks; poverty no barrier; view

matrimony."--_The Age (Melbourne)_.

For so broad-minded a man he seems curiously fastidious about dates.

* * * * *

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, October 31, 1917 · 第 19 / 59 题