_By_ Barry Pain
_Royal Naval Air Service_
“Eliza!” I said, after we had retired to the drawing-room, as we almost
always do after our late dinner nowadays, unless of course the lighting
of an extra fire is involved, “Eliza, I have this afternoon come to
rather an important decision. I must ask you to remember the meaning of
the word decision. It means that a thing is decided. It may be perfectly
natural to you to beg me not to risk the exposure to the weather, and
the possible attacks by criminals or German spies, but where my
conscience has spoken I am, so to speak, adamant, (if you would kindly
cease playing with the cat, you would be able to pay more attention to
what I am saying). What I want you to realise is that no entreaties or
arguments can possibly move me. This nation is at present plunged——”
“By the way,” said Eliza, “you don’t mind my interrupting, but I’ve just
thought of it. Miss Lakers says she can’t think why you don’t offer
yourself as a special, and I don’t see why you shouldn’t, either.”
“This, Eliza,” I said, “is one of the most extraordinary coincidences
that have befallen me in the whole course of my life. If an author were
to put such a thing in a book, every reader would remark on its
improbability. But the fact remains—at the very moment when you spoke I
was on the point of telling you that I had decided to become a special
constable.”
“That’s all right, then,” said Eliza. “I’ll tell Miss Lakers. Wonder you
didn’t think of it before. Anything in the evening paper to-night?”
“You are hardly taking my decision in the way that might have been
expected,” I said. “However, we will let that pass. We must now take the
necessary steps.”
“What do you mean?” said Eliza. “You just go to the station and——”
“I was not thinking of that. There is this question of exposure to the
weather. A warm waistcoat—sufficiently low at the back to give
protection to the kidneys—is, I understand, essential. We must also
procure a flask.”
“Well, I shouldn’t if I were you. If you take whiskey when you’re on
duty, and then anything happens, you only put yourself in the wrong.”
[Illustration: “I had forgotten my cocoa flask” (page 139).]
“My dear Eliza,” I said, “I was not dreaming of taking stimulants while
on duty. Afterwards, perhaps, in moderation, but not during. I was
referring to one of those flasks which keep soup or cocoa hot for a
considerable period. This question of exposure to the weather is rather
more serious than you seem to——”
“Oh, that kind of flask! Well, that’s different. And do be more careful
when you’re uncrossing your legs. You as near as possible kicked the cat
that time.”
As I told her, she had quite failed to grasp the situation or to take a
proper interest in it. Her reply, that I was too funny, simply had no
bearing on the subject.
* * * * *
I am not a snob. Far from it. But I do think that in the special
constabulary a little more regard might be paid to social status. I was
required for certain hours of the night to guard a small square building
connected with the waterworks. It was in a desperately lonely spot,
fully a hundred yards from the main road and approached by a footpath
across a desolate field. I make no complaint as to that. Unless a man
has pretty good nerves he had better not become a special constable. But
I do complain, and with good reason, that in this task I was associated
with Hopley.
Hopley is a plumber, in quite a small way. Some ten or twelve years ago,
when I was merely an employee of the firm in which I am now a partner, I
gave Hopley some work. At the time of taking the order he called me
“sir,” and was most respectful. Later, he used very coarse language, and
said he should not leave my kitchen until the account had been settled.
I remember this because it was the last time that I had to pawn my
watch.
Fortunately, Hopley seemed to have forgotten the incident and to have
forgotten me. On the other hand he seemed quite oblivious of the fact
that there was any social barrier between us. He always addressed me as
an equal, and even as an intimate friend. Making allowances for the
unusual circumstances, the nation being at war, I did not put him back
in his place. But after all, I ask myself, was it necessary? With a
little more organisation it would not have happened.
I will admit that I found him useful at drill and generally tried to be
next him. He seemed to know about drill, and gave me the required pull
or push which makes so much difference.
But when we two were guarding that building I found him most depressing.
He took a pessimistic view of the situation. He said that any special
who was put to guard a waterworks was practically sentenced to death,
because the Germans had got the position of every waterworks in the
kingdom charted, and the Zeppelins had their instructions. Then he
talked over the invasion of England, and the murder of a special
constable, and told ghost stories. By day I could see, almost before
Eliza pointed it out, that an incendiary bomb would do more active work
in a gasometer than in a reservoir. But in the darkness of the small
hours I am—well, distinctly less critical.
And I may add that the only mistake we have made yet was entirely due to
Hopley. It was a nasty, foggy night and I saw a shadowy form
approaching. I immediately went round to the other side of the building
to report to Hopley, and he said that this was just the sort of night
the Germans would choose for some of their dirty work. It was he who
instructed me about taking cover and springing out at the last minute.
We sprang simultaneously, Hopley on one side and myself on the other,
and if it had been anybody but Eliza we should have made a smart job of
it. I had forgotten my cocoa flask and Eliza was bringing it to the
place where I was posted. This was unfortunate for Hopley, as she hit
him in the face with the flask. I think that I personally must have
slipped on a banana-skin, or it may have been due to the sudden surprise
at hearing Eliza’s voice. Eliza said she was sorry about Hopley’s nose,
but that we really ought not to play silly jokes like that when on duty,
because we might possibly frighten somebody.
The other night I was discussing with Hopley the possibility of my being
made a sergeant.
“Not a chance,” he said. “No absolute earthly, old sport.” And then he
passed his hand in a reflective way over his nose. “But if only your
missus could have joined,” he said, “she’d have been an inspector by
now.”