"I've been thinking about my war," I said. "Every shot that was fired
while you were counting I paid for; I paid for the food of every
soldier and sailor; for the separation allowances of their wives; for
hospitals and ambulances and doctors."
"How lovely it sounds. I hadn't thought of it like that. It makes
eleven seconds seem an age."
"It is an age. For eleven seconds FRENCH and JELLICOE were my men."
"Then I think you might have warned me," said Celia reproachfully, "so
that we could have shared them."
"I'm sorry," I said. Then I had an idea. "It's all right," I said. "I
made a mistake. Those weren't our eleven seconds at all; CARNEGIE or
somebody paid for those. We'll have ours together later on."
"Well, let's see that they are good ones ... when we're having a
victory. We might tell people that the last eleven seconds off the
Falkland Islands were ours."
"But I hadn't paid then. Anyway, I don't think they begin to use my
money till April 5th ... I say, Celia, let's do our eleven seconds in
style. Let's make an occasion of it."
"Oh, do let's." She looked at her diary. "What about April 15th? I'm
not doing anything then."
"But why the 15th?"
"I thought perhaps the KING might like the first few days for himself.
Or doesn't he pay income-tax? Anyhow, the 15th is a Thursday, which is
a nice day."
So we have decided on Thursday, April 15th. Starting at 1.30 (because
we want to pay for as much bully beef and jam as possible), for eleven
seconds we shall support alone the British Empire.... And, when those
fateful moments are over, then we shall raise a glass in gratitude to
the men who have served us so well.
* * * * *
Oh, you lucky millionaires, who may be gods, perhaps, for
half-an-hour--have you filled in your income-tax forms? If not, fill
them in properly this time. Leave out no quarry, no alum mine, no
stream of water. Who knows? That salt spring which you were forgetting
may well be the deciding second of the war.