XI.

MY DEAR CHARLES,--When you have witnessed a military inspection, have

seen the Great Man going round the companies and have heard his few

kind words to the victims of his scrutiny, no doubt you have told

yourself that a soldier's life must be very smooth and comfortable and

his work as easy as kiss-my-hand. If further you assume, from the

clock-like regularity of the parade, that we must all be on very good

terms and intimate understanding with each other, I feel bound to

disclose the dismal facts.

The information that we were to be inspected by our Great Man on the

Friday was handed to me, with the soup, at Thursday's mess. I did not

appreciate its horrible significance and, wondering why it should put

the older hands off their ration beef, I ate my dinner in the usual

manner, cracked a jest or two with the slightly preoccupied Adjutant

and C.O., and later on strolled down to my company's billet to inform

them that they would be inspected on the morrow. I supposed they would

say to each other, "Oh! indeed," and turn in to sleep; but I am

credibly informed that they had no bed that night.

On the following morning I was dumbfounded by their dazzling

appearance and could not help remarking that here at last was the

Perfect Thing. I was just sufficiently soldierlike, however, to

examine them with an icy disdain before we set out. _En route_ to the

rendezvous, I pictured to myself the Great Man's delight at beholding

us, his superlative admiration expressed in a voice choked with

affectionate emotion, and his final jocular farewell to myself--"As

for _your_ company, my dear Henry, it's marvellous."

I cannot record the actual event in all its details, which were mostly

bootlaces and whiskers. The first I knew of the trouble was a face so

ominous as to divert attention even from a splendid uniform. Such was

the look in the inspecting eye that, had I been my own master, I

should have bowed as lowly as to Allah, and said, "Your Highness, I

regret that urgent business at the Bank compels the instant departure

of myself (with my company)," and we should have been gone at the

double before he had gathered the gist of my remark. As it was, I had

to stand fast and pretend that we were all very glad to see him and

hoped he would make a long stay with us.

At about the third man, he stopped dead, very dead, and called my

attention to the fact that this private was all whiskers and no

bootlaces. What had I to say to that? I might have said, "So he is,

Sir, now I come to look at him. He should, of course, have been all

boot-laces and no whisker," or merely, "Well, I never!" or, again,

with some truth, "As to his laces, Sir, they were there a minute ago

but have just fallen out of his boots; and the hair has all grown on

his face while you and I were saluting each other just now." Instead I

was mute by the visitation of Heaven and we passed on, to pause at No.

8, whose feet and face also were by now all that they should not be.

Again, I was called upon for a speech--in vain. You will notice,

Charles, that Brigadiers and Colonels are poltroons at these times;

they push the company-commander into the forefront of the battle and

skulk behind his back.

The Great Man interrupted his examination to chat with his A.D.C.,

mainly, I fancy, about whiskers and bootlaces. Being also interested

in the subject, I took the opportunity to look along my company and

see (believe me or not, as you please) the whiskers coming into

existence and the laces going out.... I gathered later that things

were much the same with every company in the brigade. The Brigadier

gathered this also, but at once and from the Great Man.

That night the Brigadier sent for our C.O. The next morning our C.O.

sent for us. In due sequence we sent for our section-commanders, and

what was left of them, when we had finished, went to interview the

private. The last-named, having no one to whom to express his

contempt, utter loathing and devilish intentions for the future,

adopted the only alternative and took the necessary action.

The news of a second inspection reached me a week in advance, during

which I took no food because I was left no time and had no appetite.

It was a gloomy period, which was relieved only by two small

incidents. The one took place at the C.O.'s inspection, and I will

call it "The Private and the Toothbrush." Asked why it was so black,

he replied that he cleaned his teeth with permanganate of potash, thus

defeating the little crowd inspecting him, since none knew whether

that chemical could be used for cleaning teeth and, if it could,

whether it would turn the brush black. The other I will call "The

Memo. of the Transport Officer," who was so upset by what was said to

him that he "begged to certify that he had that day purchased 3 new

altars for his Transport service." This was officially passed on to me

to cheer me up a little, and I am authorised to divulge it to you.

The week elapsed in a hurricane of harsh oaths, and again I paraded my

company. Upon examination it now appeared to me to be the most

revoltingly untidy and deficient sight I had ever seen, an opinion

heartily endorsed by the Adjutant, C.O. and Brigadier. _En route_ to

the rendezvous this time I pictured nothing to myself; I merely

shifted my service revolver to a position from which I could more

easily destroy myself in an emergency.... And when the Great Man

approached he smiled at me, and no sooner had he remarked to his

A.D.C. that the buttons and bayonets of the brigade did credit to all

concerned than those stolidly dull buttons of mine brightened up and

bayonets grew where before there had been empty and depressed

scabbards.

I don't know exactly what the Great Man said to the Brigadier, but

expect it was much the same as the C.O. said to us and we to the

section-commanders. I doubt if the section-commanders said anything

nice to the private, but no doubt the latter knew by instinct that

this was an occasion upon which he might with impunity, but only once

in a way, step slightly aside from the straight and narrow path. I

guess, my dear Charles, that it is only the _second_ inspection to

which you, as representing the ignorant public, are invited.

The forty-eight hours' leave (by way of reward or for convalescence)

which ensued I spent with my wife. With feminine perversity she at

once started inspecting my moustache, one of the most astonishing

productions of these astonishing times. "Say what you please now,"

said I, quite imperturbable. "At the next inspection you'll find

yourself remarking that it is the best disciplined and equipped

moustache you have ever seen." And so it is.

Yours ever,

HENRY.

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 148, January 13th 1915 · 第 56 / 62 题