We stopped for a moment at "The Mud Larks' Hair-dressing Parlor," a
very important institution if one might judge by its patronage. It was
housed in a recess in the wall of the traveling trench, and was open
to the sky. There I saw the latest fashion in "oversea" hair cuts. The
victims sat on a ration box while the barber mowed great swaths through
tangled thatch with a pair of close-cutting clippers. But instead of
making a complete job of it, a thick fringe of hair which resembled a
misplaced scalping tuft was left for decorative purposes, just above
the forehead. The effect was so grotesque that I had to invent an
excuse for laughing. It was a lame one, I fear, for Shorty looked at me
warningly. When we had gone on a little way he said:--
"Ain't it a proper beauty parlor? But you got to be careful about
larfin'. Some o' the blokes thinks that 'edge-row is a regular
ornament."
I had supposed that a daily shave was out of the question on the
firing-line; but the British Tommy is nothing if not resourceful.
Although water is scarce and fuel even more so, the self-respecting
soldier easily surmounts difficulties, and the Gloucesters were all
nice in matters pertaining to the toilet. Instead of draining their
canteens of tea, they saved a few drops for shaving purposes.
"It's a bit sticky," said Shorty, "but it's 'ot, an' not 'arf bad w'en
you gets used to it. Now, another thing you don't want to ferget is
this: W'en yer movin' up fer yer week in the first line, always bring a
bundle o' firewood with you. They ain't so much as a match-stick left
in the trenches. Then you wants to be savin' of it. Don't go an use it
all the first d'y or you'll 'ave to do without yer tea the rest o' the
week."
I remembered his emphasis upon this point afterward when I saw men
risking their lives in order to procure firewood. Without his tea Tommy
was a wretched being. I do not remember a day, no matter how serious
the fighting, when he did not find both the time and the means for
making it.