2. Don't get up when revally sounds. You'll find adjutant's parade
in the early morning, the very early morning, such a beastly bore,
and so bad for the liver that it is far wiser to stay in the
"palliasse"--(besides, hasn't your doctor often told you that it is
madness to suppose you can play such tricks at your time of life?)--they
can only give you a few years' imprisonment for repeated mutinous
conduct, and you could doubtless petition the Home Secretary for an
aggravation of your sentence.
3. Don't submit to harsh or cursory remarks from the adjutant. Do answer
him back. You know quite well that in private life you would not put up
with his hasty, ill-considered and offensive language, nor permit him to
hector you because your collar was not clean, and if you _have_ come on
parade without cleaning your belt or rifle, what right has he to say
that it makes him furious? Do point out to him how absurd it is to
expect such minute attention to discipline on the part of so
intelligent a volunteer as yourself.
4. Don't overtax your strength or weaken your heart by "doubling" up
impossible hills, merely because the colonel (on a horse) thinks it
looks pretty. Of course you would be perfectly ready to do anything that
was necessary, but how can the empire's safety depend upon your losing
your wind, when the enemy are some of your oldest friends, with a
handkerchief tied round their sleeves?
5. Do insist upon having hot water to shave with, and an extra blanket
when the nights get chilly. Very probably the captain of your company
would turn out of his bed and take your palliasse if you asked him
nicely.
6. Don't do any menial or degrading work, such as cleaning cooking
utensils or greasing your own boots. The Government ought to know that
gentlemen can't be expected to do that kind of work, and should provide
an efficient staff of servants.